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shofics · 3 years

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So tumblr ate the ask (thanks! I hate it!) but @knifemartin sent the prompt 13. pirate au but make it... sky pirates with Earhart, Zolf, Sasha, and Wilde! This got frighteningly long so I had to put it under a cut, I hope you enjoy my ramblings. <3 They’re going to kill a dragon!!

I think I genuinely might clean this up and make it into a proper fic. Watch this space.

Zolf Smith is a miner. Zolf Smith dreams of the sky. Zolf Smith kills his brother. Zolf Smith takes flight.

The Meritocracy doesn't have air forces- don’t really need ‘em when you’re a huge fuck-off dragon who can fly- but they’re worried about the increased presence the separatists are having in the skies above their lands, so they’re building one. Zolf leaps upon it like a life raft.

When the ship goes down, there are two reasons he doesn’t die; his past, and his god.

The Reliant answers the emergency call, and that surprises Zolf- a known separatist vessel, making an attempt to save the crew of a ship in the Meritocratic Air Force- but a lot of things surprise him about Captain Earhart. It’s not the Reliant’s fault that he is the only survivor. It is due to the Reliant that there is an only survivor at all.

His family were Harlequins. Captain Earhart recognises him, visits him in the sick bay as her medics do their best to save his legs, asks after his father, asks after his brother. Gives an understanding nod when he refuses to speak about them. Offers him a job, because he desperately needs one.

It’s a lot all at once, and they can’t save his legs, but he finds he doesn’t need them. Dwarves don’t have the build that most of the Hermes lot have, but he’s never let not fitting in stop him. The feeling of the wind in the rigging is like wings on ankles he doesn’t have anymore. He’s freer than he’s been his entire life.

When he is thirteen years old, Brock Rackett successfully makes it out of Other London and out of the clutches of the Rackett clan by chopping off his ring finger and escaping on the first air vessel that will take him. At least, this is what Sasha believes. She’s sad he left without her, but she knows well that when an opportunity comes, you take it. She hopes he made it out safe.

Nine years later, at twenty-two, Sasha’s opportunity finally comes. She heads for the aeroport. Maybe she’ll be able to find him.

Barrett’s men are following her, she can feel them on her tail all through the crowd like a bad smell; she needs a cover, needs somewhere to hide. There’s a drunk in the corner of the bar, some once-foppish-looking dandy, and Sasha decides to make him her cover.

She slides into the seat next to him and tries to be as inconspicuous as possible, but the drunkard starts and leaps to his feet, swaying. “Keep your trousers on,” she hisses, jumping up to pull him back down in front of her- he’s tall enough, he should provide good cover.

The man staggers out of her grip and produces a dagger from nowhere. He tries to fend her off with it- poorly- and then his eyes roll up and he collapses. Sasha just barely manages to catch him before he hits the ground.

Wilde knows the Meritocracy is crumbling. He can feel it in the air; something big is coming, something very bad, and he really doesn’t want to be here when it finally arrives.

Though maybe the sense of impending doom he’s getting is just from lack of sleep. But he’s sure that’s fine. It’s fine. He’s fine.

So he puts his bardic talents and his espionage training to work, following the trail of the odd orders and the disappearing agents, and realises quickly that if he stays, he’ll probably end up disappearing as well- or worse, become one of the people giving the odd, conflicting orders. He doesn’t know what that’s about. He doesn’t want to find out.

Wilde fakes his own death in the hopes it will throw off the scent, and decides, like so many others seeking the separatists, to head for the Americas.

In a bar at the aeroport he is accosted by a mugger, and he knew he was being conspicuous, but with everything blurring and the ringing in his ears he’s in no shape to properly defend himself. Instead of killing him, though, the dark figure hauls him up and runs.

He’s not lucid enough to take in the scene of the room she drags him into, and so he doesn’t resist as someone snaps something cold around his wrist, and he at long last sinks into a deep and dreamless sleep.

Earhart knew the look of people like Zolf Smith- lost, angry, needing. She’s seen plenty of it, in her years as an airship captain, because there are only a few reasons why people set out for the skies. And so she took him on, and he proved a fantastic first mate, knew his stuff inside and out and indulged her more reckless tendencies.

Plus, he’d been fleeing the Meritocracy. That automatically put him in Earhart’s good books.

Famous (and infamous) Harlequin airship captain Amelia Earhart was, by that point, becoming famous and infamous enough to become a thorn in the Meritocrats’ sides. They decided to target her. The fact that they tried to take down the Reliant was not her fault. The fact that she turned the whole ship around to attack back, causing a wreck that killed almost all of her crew and blew the Reliant into unsalvageable bits… that was.

The only reason she hasn’t drunk herself to death by this point is her ‘fantastic’ first mate (she’s regretting that now, in an angry way), who for some unknowable reason is unwilling to let the guilt swallow her whole.

Zolf Smith was an airman. Zolf Smith dreams of gods and wings and roads not taken. Zolf Smith is given a choice. Zolf Smith chooses no.

Zolf Smith loses his magic.

Earhart is trying to die, and he’s doing his best without access to his healing magic, but it won’t work forever, not when she’s this determined to let herself waste into nothing. He’s not good at talking, and that’s what she really needs- someone to talk to. Someone to listen. But he’s got no legs, and he’s got no magic, and he’s got almost no hope left, and nowhere to go.

They take refuge in a seedy bar in the closest aeroport and report the crash; two survivors, him and Earhart. They’ve been there a month and a half when the door to their room bursts open and a terrified kid with dark shaggy hair and an enormous jacket practically falls through the doorway, lugging an unconscious man in a blue and green waistcoat.

For a split second they all just stare at each other- everyone except for the unconscious man, of course, being as he is unconscious (and bleeding, from the nose and from the ears, and Zolf may not have magical healing but he has medical training and he knows that’s bad)- and then the kid drops her charge like a sack of potatoes, slams the door closed, and dives under the bed.

“Are you in trouble?” is all Zolf asks, and the kid nods, petrified and utterly silent. “Fine. Stay there.”

The unconscious man begins to shake and cry out as Zolf manhandles him into his bed, as though having a nightmare. He wakes with a scream, eyes wide and terrified. Someone bangs on the door. “Do you mind?” Zolf yells. “Little busy in here!”

The door bursts open a second time- those poor hinges- and two men of the kind who aren’t holding knives until you look at them from the right angle, and then they definitely are, and they’re pointed right at you, appear in the doorway. They take in the sickroom and the man with the two prosthetic legs, look nonplussed for a second, and then one nudges the other and tells him to “get a move on, she’s in here somewhere,” and they disappear down the hall.

Zolf pulls the door shut behind them and goes back over to the man in the waistcoat. It takes a bit of figuring out, but eventually, in desperation- the man is obviously dying- Zolf fishes out the anti-magical handcuffs issued to him as soldier and medic in the Meritocratic Air Forces, and clips one around his wrist. He goes limp.

He turns around to find the dark haired kid staring at him with eyes as wide as saucers. “Were they lookin’ for you?” he asks, and her eyes narrow.

“Why do you want to know?” she asks defensively- as though they could be looking for anyone else. The kid has ‘runaway’ written all over her.

“‘Cause I’m tryin’ to save your life,” Zolf snaps, and that seems to shock her, “so if you could work with me here, that’d be great, I’ve got enough on my plate tryin’ to save her life-” jerks a thumb to Earhart- “and apparently this one’s as well-” to the now asleep man taking up his bed. “Who are you? Who’s he?”

“I dunno,” says the kid, “he just kind of fell over.”

Sasha does not make the decision to trust him then. She doesn’t even tell him her name. She makes the decision to trust him when he tells her, a day later, as they sit against the wall and watch the man in the waistcoat mumble in his sleep, that he used to work on an airship.

“I’m Sasha,” she says. “Can I come with you?”

The white-haired dwarf named Zolf Smith- he looks too young to have white hair, but Sasha knows not to judge from appearances- grimaces. “I mean,” he says. “Dunno why you’d want to.”

“I want to see the sky,” says Sasha, who has spent her entire life underground. Zolf looks at her and seems to see something in her that pains him.

“I dunno where I’m goin’,” he warns her mournfully, looking back at Earhart, who is also sleeping. “But you can come with if you want. ‘S your choice.”

He doesn’t ask Sasha’s surname. She decides to trust him.

The name of the man in the bed next to her is Oscar Wilde, and Earhart starts frantically reaching for a gun, any gun, forgetting in her automatic fury that Zolf had taken them all off her weeks ago. A Meritocratic agent-

“Ex-agent,” says Wilde politely. “Please don’t shoot me, Captain, I’ve almost died once this week and I’m not really eager to repeat the experience.”

Earhart feels more lucid than she has in ages as she listens to him describe the strange series of events that brought him there, how sure he is that something is brewing within the Meritocracy’s upper ranks, the disaster that is coming. She can feel Zolf’s eyes on her as all her grief and guilt and despair and boiling anger calcify inside of her.

Wilde is like her, like Zolf, like Sasha- lost, angry, needing.

Wilde has information she can use.

“Mr. Wilde,” Earhart says, her voice hoarse with disuse but filled with more fire than she’s felt since the crash, “you are going to help me kill a dragon.”

She didn’t like him at first- he talked down to her, and his posh affectations grated on principle- but Sasha has to admit that Wilde is smart. She stares in disbelieving wonder as he produces a bag of holding full to the brim with more gold pieces than she’s ever seen in her life. His Meritocratic funding, he tells the spellbound group, because he can spellbind even without his magic. He liquified as many assets as he felt he could get away with before leaving.

“Pick a ship,” he says, “any ship. We can buy it. No need to steal.”

“We’ll need elementals,” Earhart says. “At least two.”

Wilde turns to Zolf. “You’re a cleric, aren’t you?” he says. “You can summon elementals.”

“Not anymore,” Zolf bites.

“Why?”

Zolf makes a face. “I don’t- when- okay.” He sighs. “Look-” and casts Spark into the fireplace. He jumps back in shock.

“I… don’t see the problem?” Wilde says after a good minute of silence, looking from the roaring flames back to Zolf. Sasha gets up and goes to dry her hair by the fire; the weather around the ports has been awful lately. Zolf stares into the flames in surprise.

Zolf Smith was a cleric. Zolf Smith dreams of a new ship. Zolf Smith finds a team, full of people who need healing, the kind he can now provide. Zolf Smith has hope.

#my post #answered #prompt fill #my writing #knifemartin #rqg #rqg fic #rusty quill gaming #rqgaming #sasha rackett #zolf smith #rqg wilde #wilde rqg #rqg earhart #earhart rqg

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pastelpaperplanes · 3 years

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Part 5

Optimus had never worn as little as he was in that moment, and considering the situation, he would normally be a lot more anxious about it, but when you're suspended this high off the ground with only two thin strips of fabric holding you up, that was the least of your worries at the moment.

Jadarite, Eion and Calipso were all on the ground, calling up words of encouragement to him as he managed to get the wrap around his torso properly.

Unverlo was up in the rigging alongside some of the workers who maintained said rigging, mostly there to let him know if something got tangled and they’d have to drop him onto the massive padded mat directly under him on the stage.

He took a moment before he began the next stunt to question how Jadarite had even got him into this.

Something about his upper frame physique and how the crowd would love it?

After that thought was done, he let himself go, letting the flow of the fabrics let him spin around and around and around.

Just as he was about to hit the mat, he shifted, and the roll stopped, leaving a perilous amount of fabric left underneath him and his optics having to recalibrate to adjust to the sudden change in depth.

There was a round of applause from those around him as he put his servos and knees to the mat and untangled himself from the fabrics.

Once they were free hanging again, Unverlo and the mechs up in the rigging started to pull it all back up for storage, that had been the last trick he had wanted to get right, so the session was over.

Jadarite offered her servo to him, which he took as she helped him off the mat. “You’re a natural Pax, the crowds gonna love you even more when you get up the confidence to do it in front of them.” She praised, shifting to walk with him off the stage and down to where the tables and chairs were for the guests, a servo resting on his opposite shoulder as the predominantly white femme led him down and around to the doors that led to the network of workers only corridors that would in turn lead to the dressing rooms.

He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. “You sure Boss? I’m still feeling pretty wobbly.”

Jadarite chuckled with a lot more conviction than his own. “How many times do I have to tell you I’ve got an optic for talent Pax? Everyone is wobbly to start with! Why when I was at your level of experience I ran face first into a pole in the middle of a performance and knocked myself out!” She exclaimed, whacking her forehelm with her palm to emphasise the incident.

He gave her an awkward chuckle. “Hopefully I don’t do that…”

She went to reply back when the ships intercom came to life, and one of the Captains, it wasn’t easy to tell which with just the voice, started to speak. ::Attention all Passengers and Crew, we will soon be arriving at the Intergalactic Port, Galvara-5, if this is your departure call, please make sure you have everything you have brought with you packed away, as we will not be turning around for an errant data pad. For those who are not departing us at Galvara-5, we will be docked for two cycles, if you are not back on the ship exactly two cycles after we arrive, we will leave without you.::

He made a face. “That’s a bit harsh…”

Jadarite shrugged. “Think of it from their perspective, The Polaris is a literal city, does a city stop for one data pad?”

“No?”

“No, plus, being blunt about this and having it as part of the policy prevents grounds for lawsuits… it’s been company policy since the time of their Grandsire being in charge of the fleet.” She explained.

Optimus nodded. “That makes sense… so… Galvara-5? What’s it like? I’ve never been off Cybertron before.” He explained.

“Oh it’s hectic, because The Polaris and the rest of the fleet have it as their first docking spot after Cybertron, there’s always at least ten companies fighting and throwing money to have their cargo to get the fast track treatment.” She explained. “That’s something the Captains handle though, everyone else gets two cycles to hit up the clubs and tourist traps that have sprung up since the Fleet started using this place, before the Fleet took it as their first landing spot, it was apparently a pretty standard space port, now, it’s supersized and handles everything coming through this Quadrant, The Polaris is still the largest docking ship by leagues, of course.” She puffed up a bit as she stated that.

That was something he noticed, all the mechs and femmes who worked on this ship seemed to hold a great deal of pride, especially those like Jadarite, who felt like someone who knew the ins and outs of the ship better than she knew how to dance, which was saying something, he’d seen her during some of the shows, she could cut a rug and make artwork out of it.

“So, want to see Galvara-5 for yourself?” Jadarite offered. “We don’t have to put on shows during docking periods, it’s expected most bots will get off to take in the scenes and sights instead.”

He shrugged. “If that’s the case I certainly don’t mind.”

Jadarite beamed. “Wonderful, we can all go as a group and do a bar crawl! How does that sound?”

He chuckled. “Sounds good… so long as I’m not the only one carrying everyone’s drunk afts back to the ship. Especially Drakus, I don’t know about you, but I might need to go see Dust for a thrown out back strut if I tried to carry him!”

Drakus was the ‘big mech’ of the entertainment department, and was apparently very good at tossing the smaller bots into the air for more dramatic stunts, luckily Optimus was just above the weight that Dust allowed the mech to toss.

Jadarite chuckled in turn. “Ah’ll remember that kiddo! Now how about you go and get changed out of that get up? Hmm? Before a lost passenger sees you and catches feelings!” She jested, nudging him ahead of her and into the changing rooms.

Suddenly reminded of just how little he was wearing, Optimus yelped and tried to cover himself up, earning another truly raucous laugh from Jadarite.

Cybertron

Megatron had to admit, he was having a hard time paying attention to what he was doing.

He had the star map for the Trans Galactic fleet folded up on one side of his desk, if the Polaris was making good time, they’d be arriving at Galvara-5 soon, and hopefully one of his friends would have the chance to give him a call.

He was itching to hear about Orion, make sure the dancer was doing alright.

He’d sprung the change of employers so quickly on the mech, he’d wanted to give him time to pack and the like, but his concerns over Shockwave pulling something had overruled that wish.

A knock at his door drew his attention away from the paper work he’d been looking at without actually reading. “Come in.” He spoke.

The door opened and he would admit to himself, he was surprised to see who walked in. “Blackarachnia?” He asked in surprise as the femme walked in.

The femme, known infamously as the Queen of the Insecticons, looked murderous, melt a poor soul into the sidewalk for being within her vicinity murderous, he was surprised Lugnut let her reach his office with that expression. He might need to go and check for his body...

“What. The frag did you do?” The femme hissed out.

“You know full well your going to have to be more specific than that.”

“Optimus. What the fuck did you do to him!” She snapped, lips pulled back in a snarl.

“Who?” He asked, he’d never heard of a mech called ‘Optimus’. He had a feeling BlackArachnia was misplacing her anger. “BlackArachnia, if one of your… associates has gone missing, I am not the one responsible.”

She blinked at him dumbstruck for a moment before snarling again. “Don’t pull that slag with me! You’re in deep slag you idiot! The Elite Guard’s started a murder investigation on you!” She snapped out.

His optic ridges shot up. “...What…”

She nodded. “You killed their informant. I knew him… he… he used to be my friend… before… this…” She gestured to herself. “Words spreading fast… surprised you didn’t hear about it before me… So… what the frag… did you do… to Optimus?”

He shook his helm. “I’ve never met a mech by the designation ‘Optimus’.” He tried to explain.

She sighed. “Baby blue face, bright blue helm piece with finals, waist that should not be supporting a chassis as broad as his?” She began to list off.

That was all he needed to hear for his attention to go to a black and white photo on his desk, framed in a quaint wood frame, he slowly turned it to face her. “Your… Your describing Orion.”

“Orion? Frag… he used a cover name… wait… you didn’t know he was an informant?”

Megatron felt something in his spark drop. “No… I didn’t…”

She looked at him confused. “Then… why did you kill him?”

“I didn’t!” He exclaimed, affronted at the very idea of him being responsible for Orion… Optimus… Orion’s death. “He’s not dead!”

“Then where is he?! He was Magnus’ favourite once upon a time! And he’s using the fact that he’s not been seen in weeks to build a murder case on you! They’ve had ships trawl the docks for his body!”

He froze then. “What… wait… the docks?”

She nodded. “Yes! Everyone knows you took him to the docks with Lugnut and Shockwave! Everyone… came to the conclusion you… put him in the Docks… you didn’t… put him in the docks…”

He shook his helm. “No… I had his contract changed from being in my name, to the name of an old friend. He’s on their ship as we speak.”

BlackArachnia’s shoulders dropped in relief. “He’s not dead…”

He nodded, but his expression soured. “Now that we’ve established that… what’s this about him being an informant?”

BlackArachnia made a face. “That I don’t know much about… but what I do know is… it’s a scandal in the Elite Guard… Magnus apparently never cleared this… Sentinel Prime went behind his back and made Optimus work as an informant for him… Optimus wasn’t part of the Guard… he was a civilian… that it seems… Sentinel strong armed into getting information on you for him… That’s all that’s gotten out into the rumour mill so far…” She explained.

He hummed and intertwined his digits. “The ship with… Optimus… on it… is soon to arrive on Galvara-5… I will address the Captains and see about getting proof that he is alive and well on the ship… that will hopefully enough to clear me of murder when a trial comes… Thank you BlackArachnia… for bringing this all to my attention… Now I know to be prepared...”

BlackArachnia nodded and took that as her que to leave.

It would seem, it was more than just Sol and Neb that he would need to speak with on the Polaris… directly.

The Polaris Bridge.

Nebularburst yawned as she watched the bid prices roll in, Solarstorm was handling the auction itself in Galvara-5’s trading hall, everytime they flew through here, wealthier and wealthier companies and syndicates were throwing more money at them to get their stuff along the flight path they had.

A chipper autotone voice pipped up from the main console. “Tired Pilot?”

Nebular snorted. “Me? Tired? Child who do you think you are suggesting that?”

The voice snickered through the speakers. “This child~ Who knows you haven’t recharged in four cycles.”

“You’ve been using the security cameras in our quarters to spy on me again… haven’t you?”

“........... Fraggit…”

“POLS!”

“Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!” The voice yipped.

Nebularburst sighed, rubbed the sides of her helm. “No… no… I’m sorry… I know it’s pointless thinking we can have you keep some of your innocence… what with what we have you do on the outer rim…”

“What I do on the outer rim is my duty… I’ve known my duty since the cycle you brought me online… I should still try not to swear like those who work in my engines...”

She patted the console gently. “It’s okay… HOLY FPPPFTTT…” She suddenly exclaimed, puffing out her cheeks to stop herself from cursing as she pointed at the sudden spike from the Auction count. “Someone just bet a brand new mining colony filled with rare ores!”

“WHAT?!”

“... Looks like we’re going to be even more busy now…”

“Think there will be useful stuff to be found?”

“I don’t know… but it looks like that plus a whole warehouse full of credits is the winning bid… the others are declining raising the stakes… Looks like the Prince of the Empire of Falgranum… Wonder what he wants us to ship for that much…” She mumbled.

She didn’t get anymore time to ponder as the bridges com-link was pinged by a familiar number.

Nbbularburst beamed. “It’s Megzy!” And sent the clearance for the call to go through.

:We need to talk.:

Her optic ridges shot up. That didn’t sound good.

#CiaF RETURNS!!#I’m screaming at the nickname #cops and mobs creations #submission

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scottfuckingreed · 4 years

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It’s a Pogue thing - JJ Maybank

NOT REQUESTED

Warnings!: Swearing, drugs and alcohol, and SMUT!

“Morning guys!” I beam as the boat comes to a steady stop at the edge of my front garden. It’s almost like a routine. More often than not we sail into an open set of water. Sometimes we fish, mostly we just simply do nothing. Pope extends his hand out to help me onto the boat. It strikes me sometimes that, although we are all the best of friends, it probably seems a strange mix of people to some people. We’re the scraps of the island. The ones who no one really acknowledges. Kiara and I would technically be Kooks. Both of our families have money but it doesn’t really mean shit. Everyone from ‘our end’ are airheads. They care about nothing and no one but themselves. Pope’s parents have worked their asses off, so they’re in a stable place. They don’t understand why Pope hangs with us, and sometimes I wonder the same thing. He has a real chance of getting out of this place. John B and JJ are childhood besties. Their upbringing is similar, except John B’s technically an orphan, and JJ’s father’s a piece of shit. But that’s just pogue life.

“Is your mum still out tonight?” JJ asks, making my head slowly turn towards him. Do I even need to ask? “I mean, yeah-” “Great! We’re throwing a party,” I raise my eyebrows. “Hahahahaha, definitely not.” The last time I had a party with these idiots, so much shit broke in my house. I’m not getting grounded again. “Come on Y/N! It’s summer. We could all use a party!” I roll my eyes at his words. I open my mouth to shut him down but John B lets out a cough. “Actually, Y/N, I agree.” Kiara looks just as confused as I do. His father’s been missing for almost a year. Recently he’s been looking more in depth, which I support to a certain extent, but it’s at on overload right now. I’m surprised a party would even be on his radar. “I need to talk to Sarah Cameron.”

Sarah Cameron. She’s like Kook royalty. I don’t think she’s too bad. A bit sheltered maybe, but her and Kiara have a history. So you can imagine the change in look on her face as he mentions her name. “She mentioned something that might help me figure out what’s happened with my father. Do you think she’d come?” Okay that makes sense. Ki’s face doesn’t change, and the rest of us just glance between each other. “I mean, probably... but I don’t really wanna hang-” “I just need to talk to her, then you can call the party off,” a smile - too shiny and wide - spreads across his face. John B’s always had this affect on people. He gets exactly what he wants.

As soon as I get home I scan my house. Anything fragile, valuable, or anything of the sort needs to be hidden. Vases, mini statues, ashtrays from holidays abroad. Things that make this house a home will be locked in an upstairs bedroom. I’d like to live this life a little longer.

So here I am; picking an outfit for a party I don’t wanna go to. A party that I’m apparently hosting! Since I’m not dressing for anybody, I go for a simple short black dress. It really resembles my mood. Almost as soon as I put it on, I hear my front door shut. I jog down the stairs, adjusting my boobs into their rightful positions to come face to face with my intruder.

“You should really announce yourself or something. I thought I was gonna get murdered,” in front of me stands JJ. His outfit consists of a pair of lovely beige shorts and a colourful shirt; left open to show off that torso of course. “I could kill you,” he flirts. His eyes immediately go to my cleavage. This is nothing new. I think he’d fuck a table if it gave him the right vibe. “Hey!” I snap my fingers at him. “My eyes are up here you know.” Before I go to kick him, he makes a very boyish comment of how I look sexy and whatnot. He wanders away into the kitchen, probably to raid my fridge before the party. Let’s get this over with.

More and more people start to gather in my house. In the Outer Banks, everyone kind of knows everybody. I don’t actually know all these people, but I’ve seen them around. I close my eyes for a second, before pouring a drink for myself into a classic red cup. “Are you okay?” Ki nudges me with a smile. Ki and I are very similar people. She probably doesn’t wanna be here either. She could leave, but I know she won’t. “I just realised I’m the host, and I don’t wanna be here,” I laugh it off and hold my drink up to her. “Cheers!” I add.

After about 2 and a half drinks, I’m really starting to feel this party. The music is average. It’s the ‘for everybody’ kind which means it’s majoritively overplayed and everybody more or less knows it word for word. Despite that, and despite the fact that I didn’t really want this party to happen, I drag Ki into the dance area and boogie with her. Well- I dance, she stares at me with a concerned look on her face. “The trick is you have to pretend you’re having a good time,” I giggle into her ear in a slightly tipsy tone. Although she shakes her head, I can see her trying to contain herself from moving to the music. I take her hand and spin myself into her. Her eyes give me the ‘can I go now’ look. Grunting, I give in. “Fine! Please if you see anyone doing or touching shit they’re not meant to, beat them!” I smile innocently after my words, and she scurries faster than she should. Damn. Am I that bad of a dancer?

Music vibrates the walls. It’s been almost 2 hours since the party started and it’s actually going quite smoothly. John B has asked every 5 seconds if Sarah’s here yet. I shush him with my finger. “I promise I will let you know when I see her. Honestly, you sound a bit obsessed with her...” I chuckle. “Hey!” I poke JJ on the arm. At this point, just call me mother. “Please don’t smoke that in here,” I gesture towards the spliff in his hands. “It’s a party Y/N! Relax!” With that, I snatch it out of his hands. His face grows serious. Confusion fades as I realise it’s not aimed at me. Both JJ’s and John B’s eyes stare at the group entering my house.

First in, Sarah. Like I said, I don’t really have a problem with Sarah. She comes across a bit self centred sometimes. That’s minor.

With her, her boyfriend Topper. Topper’s a dick but I think he’s harmless. He’s honestly a pussy.

And his best friend. Her brother. My ex boyfriend. Rafe.

There’s a saying; dead things should stay buried, or something like that. That relationship should be 6 feet under, but times that by 10. I guess it was a ‘serious’ relationship. It lasted about a year. It was almost perfect at the beginning, that I can’t lie. As both of our families are respected, and very close anyway, it just seemed right. There was no disgust. He was accepted. I was accepted. We did everything a couple should; went on dates, were around each other 24/7, even did weekends away together. And we argued. The thing about Rafe is he’s an over thinker. He’s paranoid. When traits like that mix they can... make a monster. The last time he set his hands on me was about 4 months ago. I’ve avoided him like hell ever since.

“This is why I shouldn’t have a party,” I sigh. My eyes can’t seem to leave that area. It’s strange to see him. I don’t want him here. “Why’s he even here? He does have some balls,” John’s tone sounds somewhat impressed. I’m not. I’m not sure if my body is ready to cry, or laugh, or scream. Finally, I blink my eyes away, and set eyes on my two friends. Before I speak, JJ opens his mouth. “We can kick him out,” he assures me. The slight nudge on my shoulders by each boy is comforting. “It’s fine,” I sigh, taking JJ’s drink out of his hands. As much as I’d love to see Rafe get his ass kicked and thrown out, and I can promise you I would, this is my battle. I can’t avoid him forever. “Fuck,” I whisper, knowing what I’m about to do. I bring JJ’s cup up to my lips and tip the entire contents into my mouth. “Shit Y/N, I wouldn’t-” before he can warn me fully, I swallow. My eyes instantly water. “What the fuck!” I gasp at the disgusting taste. I’m sure a toilet would taste better than that. And yet, that concoction would be easier to digest than the conversation I’m about to have with Rafe.

The walk over felt somewhat unreal. As if, if this was a movie, my passionate walk would be in slow motion. Between the music and my racing heart, my dramatic ‘I am the main character’ strut was complete. If only I wasn’t totally shitting myself. A brave face Y/N. Just fake it.

And then I’m in front of them. Perhaps my slow motion moment wasn’t quite slow enough. It could’ve been everlasting for all I care. “Hey Sarah,” I smile. Her sympathetic smile is warming, but ultimately useless in this situation. I doubt Rafe told her the whole story, but I can imagine she knows too well what he can be like. Maybe he even made something up. I wouldn’t be surprised. She drifts away rather quickly. I don’t know what the deal is with her and John B, but I imagine Topper intends to watch her like a hawk. He’s that type of guy. Topper doesn’t even speak, just stands slightly behind as if he’s one of Rafe’s minions. To be honest that kind of describes him perfectly. I wouldn’t be surprised if Rafe just has him around to lick his ass. When I have to, I finally look at Rafe’s face. “What are you doing here?” I ask. My eyes scan everywhere on his face but his eyes. The thought of doing that makes me uncomfortable. “It’s a party Y/N,” the smirk on his face screams fuckboy. “Plus, I wanted to see you,” he raises his hand to my face, going to tuck a piece of my hair behind my ear. My hand forcefully bats his away, making a loud slap sound; even over the music. “I’ve missed you,” he leans closer so his shouting can quieten a little. My limbs instantly tense at his words. Somehow it makes me feel kind of sick thinking about it... thinking about us. The fact that it was a thing is just... “You need to leave Rafe,” my attempt to sound blunt and assertive is a massive fail. Instead my voice echoed in a wobble, making me sound weak and pathetic. “You don’t mean that, come on-” his hand wraps around my wrist, taking my back to a time I’ve tried desperately hard to forget. I pull my arm away once, but his grip holds too strong. As I go to pull away again, a pair of large hands push against Rafe’s chest. “What the fuck man?!” Topper’s voice erupts from Rafe’s shadow. A henchman fighting his duties. I turn to see JJ, red faced, standing with a threatening stance. “We don’t want no trouble JJ, my girl here is just being a tease,” Rafe’s tone is patronising. “Leave it, JJ,” my right hand gently squeezes his left shoulder. “Let’s get a drink, Topper,” I wanted him to leave, but I watch him walk towards my kitchen. I hate that he’s in my house, but at least he’s away from me. For now.

I fade away. Without full control, my body makes it’s way upstairs. Just to breathe for a second. Almost as soon as I drop my body onto my bed, the door reopens. Startling me, I come face to face with JJ. “Hey,” his voice rings soft. When he closes the door behind him, the music becomes muffled. Peaceful. I press my lips together into a forced smile. “Should I tell everyone to fuck off home?” He gestured towards the door. I shake my head, cracking a smile. “It’s fine. I just needed a minute away from... that,” his arm extends, a red cup at the very end. I screw my face up at the smell. “How do you drink this?” Just from sniffing it, I feel myself getting more and more tipsy. “If you need it, it goes down quite easily-” he pauses as I take it. “Plus I’m really cool and manly so.” “Ah, of course.” A big part of my body (probably my stomach and liver) starts screaming no. I have no idea what alcohol is in this cup. I know it’s a lot. After this cup, I will probably be more or less gone. A micro part of me says fuck it. That’s the part I listen to. The liquid burns down my throat, and yet it strangely goes down quite smoothly compared to the first.

“I am sorry about Rafe,” JJ has taken a seat next to me on my bed. Usually I’d banish people away from my room, but I feel like JJ saved me tonight. He’s a bit of a prick at times, and an absolute idiot, but I trust him. Maybe I trust him too much. “It was gonna happen at some point,” I shrug. “He’s such a pussy,” when I start laughing at JJ’s words, I realise that the alcohol may have sunk in. A hiccup escapes my mouth. “Fuck.” I whisper to myself as my smile fades. I’m an idiot to have ever gotten with him. Young and dumb maybe. “Hey...” JJ rests his hand on my knee and squeezes gently. My body, in my tipsy state, reacts to this motion is a strange way. Why did that just give me butterflies? He’s only comforting me. My eyes drift up to look at him properly. Is he... leaning in?

I stand up before he gets close. I rub my eyes frantically. Maybe I’m about to wake up from a nap or something. “I’m sorry... I just...” I breathe. The crazy thing is, I felt it too. My body is reacting in crazy ways right now. I think I’m turned on? By JJ? That’s something I never thought I’d say. I mean... he’s hot. I’m not blind. I guess I’ve never looked at him like that. But I am now. I’m looking at the blonde hair, and the jawline, and the smile. Okay, that’s enough. I’m just in shock of seeing Rafe again. That’s it: “Pogue on Pogue isnt allowed,” I state, mainly to myself. I need massively convincing right now. I need JJ to tell me that I got the wrong idea. Tell me it’s disgusting and I’m too much like a sister. We’re meant to be family. Come on Y/N! That’s gross! Before he says anything, he shrugs. That damn fucking shrug. In my state of mind, it’s attractive. “I don’t really care,” that’s it. I’m convinced. I needed him to say something else, but that’s ultimately the answer I hoped for. “Me neither.”

I practically jump onto him, straddling him and crashing my lips onto his. The softness, yet passion, against my lips is something I’m not sure I’ve ever felt. This should feel wrong. Only, as JJ’s hands smooth up and down my body before sitting on my waist, it couldn’t feel more right. Without a second thought, I glide my tongue into his mouth. I can sense it takes him by surprise. The most attractive moan escapes him, which I can imagine was not intentional. The kiss proceeds to get more and more intimate. Somehow we just move in sync. He slowly lays back, our lips not separating once before he’s fully beneath me. Maybe JJ was previously holding back, but a rush of ‘horny teenage boy’ suddenly rushes over him. Both hands go to my ass. As much as I don’t want to fall apart under his touch so fast, the immense pleasure radiates through my body. I break away from his kiss slightly and moan massively into his mouth.

We stop kissing for a second. Our heavy breaths bounce against each other. It’s a strange moment to be in. Was this always bound to happen at some point? “Should we stop?” Confusion hits as he speaks those words, and yet he proceeds to trail kisses down my neck. I push his head down onto the pillow with my right hand cupping his chin, bringing my face close enough to his that our noses are pretty much touching. “Do you want to?” I simple ask. I’d be almost offended by his words, but only if his hands weren’t grinding me down onto his crotch. Perhaps it’s a guilty conscience. We are both massively likely to regret this in the morning. We are also likely to get caught and get grief from our small circle of friends. They are good enough reasons to stop. They are good enough reasons for this to have never started to happen in the first place. They just don’t amount to one thing, and that’s that I want this right now. His head begins to move side to side. I can’t help but begin to smile massively. “Then shut up and fuck me.”

It was as if that was a jump start. JJ’s manly hands flip us over immediately. I let out a giggle as he begins to undo his shorts. The speed of the removal of both his shorts and boxers was impressive. They get thrown wherever they go. My eyes quickly glance at his penis, before looking back up to his eyes. I suck in my bottom lip before pulling him back down to kiss me again. This shouldn’t be this easy. His tongue slides back into my mouth, battling with mine for dominance, all too easily. I’m not even a little bit nervous... until I feel his fingertips glide up under my dress. He hooks his finger under the waist band of my thong and does nothing for too long. It might’ve only been seconds, but those seconds were some of the longest seconds of my life. He pulls them off ever so slowly. I was becoming a literal puddling mess beneath him.

He knows what he’s doing. He knows he has me wrapped around his finger right now. His tongue plays against mine skillfully; slow and passionate. He’s doing everything right. Once my underwear finally reaches my feet, I just can’t hold it back anymore. “Are you done teasing me now?” I practically beg. I’m soaked, a mess, and almost fully sober. If anything, I wanted this more now than I did when we started. My heart continues racing, but I stay composed and reach over into my bedside table. I rip it open. I simply hold his shaft with two fingers. JJ takes a deep breath in. Fuck. He watches my hand roll the condom down with his mouth slightly open. “Time to break some Pogue rules,” he whispers before lining himself up. I should not be this ready for this.

Even with just the tip, I could’ve come apart then and there. I haven’t had sex in months. Whether you believe me or not, I had not imagined it would to be JJ Maybank who I was going to break my ‘no boys’ commitment to myself with. When he begins inserting himself inside me, I realise this is actually happening. The slow, easy slide in had me in pieces. I was already moaning and he wasn’t even moving properly yet. He stops. “This-” I pause to steady my breath. My entire being is, dare I say it, excited. “This has to stay between us,” I compose myself. Although this is a one time thing, it has potential to ruin a hell of a lot. So, even as I wrap my legs around his body, we have to make this promise. “Scouts honour.” He brings his pinky up to me. Kissing the backs of our hands, it was sealed.

He starts pulling out slowly, making my jaw gradually open wider and wider. He pauses before pushing back in. His eyes lock with mine, and he smiles cheekily. I’m not certain what that smile means, but I can sure take a guess. There is a part of me that wants to stop. Nothing’s really happened yet. But no part of me actually wants to. When he pushes himself back inside me, my fingers spread into his hair. His lips land back on mine, my tongue swirls around his like it’s an everyday activity. I pull gently on his hair as he begins steadying a pace. “Shit,” I moan against his lips.

Fingertips glide across my thigh, tracing patterns and sending my stomach into spirals. I couldn’t hook my legs around him tighter if I tried. The wave of tremendous pleasure of each thrust was like a drug. Every time his body collided with mine I wanted more. I needed more. To feel this, in this moment, with JJ was wrong. So why doesn’t it feel that way? His lips leave mine slowly, tracing kisses across my cheek until his lips land near my ear. “You feel so fucking good,” the vibrations of a deep husky moan forces a moan out of me. His teeth latch around my ear lobe, sucking down before moving down to my neck.

The friskiness of JJ’s lips and tongue is like motivation. With strength I didn’t know I had, and confidence in myself I thought I’d lost, I push against JJ and flip us over. Lust fills his eyes. I just sit there, only for a second, actually liking the way JJ is looking at me. Yes, it’s because I’m straddling him half naked. It’s still nice. His hands squeeze the tops of both of my thighs as well as moving up to my hips... then my ass. It was as if he pressed fast forwards.

I move my body up to start thrusting onto him again, with his helping hands guiding back down. “Fuck JJ,” I moan, leaning forwards to bring my face close to his. My moans become more and more prominent between our kisses. The hands, that remain on my ass cheeks, remain strong and steady. The way he still controlled my body, even though I was on top, was such a turn on. I reach for the headboard. If there wasn’t a party going on downstairs I think everyone would be hearing us loud and clear. The bed starts making a rather persistent squeaking noise. I let out a laugh-moan when the headboards makes a ‘one time’ bang against the wall. I could tell, with the way I was grinding myself down onto him, he was close. What a relief!

“I’m so close,” I moan against his lips in a muffled whisper. Although my body grew tired, JJ continues helping my body thrust up and down. The knot in my stomach started to tighten. My heart rate increases quite a bit. “Fuck Y/N, you feel so good around me!” His fingers grow stronger against my hips as he came closer and closer to finishing. Even with his grip being quite forceful, all I could feel was an astonishing amount of pleasure flushing through my body. The release felt like a long time coming. Once I started to let go around him, it only took seconds for JJ to reach his climax too. With his help, we ride out our highs. I grow slower and slower, until both of our climaxes finished. My heart is racing. I lift my body with the last piece of energy I had. My sensitive core flinches as he pulls out from me once more. Collapsing onto him, I fall into the crevice on his arm all too well. “Shit,” I mumble. I don’t think it’ll actually sink in until tomorrow. I’m too scared to punch myself in case I don’t wake up. “That was... uh...” he doesn’t even need to finish his sentence. “I know.”

The next morning

I wake up in a strange yet awfully familiar place. The walls, the blanket, and the view outside my window are all home. The curtains weren’t drawn last night. When I roll over, there’s something that shouldn’t be familiar. I set eyes on a naked JJ sleeping soundly next to me. My eyes widen. I can’t help but sit up drastically fast. I first find my thong. As quietly as I can, I open a drawer beside my bed and rummage for a t shirt. I find one and put it on, only to turn and see JJ’s eyes staring my way.

“Morning sunshine,” he smirks. His bed hair sticks up in every direction. I notice his boxers across the room so I stand and throw them his way. I watch as his face changes, but the proud smirk on his face remains. “We fucked last night,” he chuckles, standing to put his boxers on. I press my top and bottom lips together. “Don’t look too impressed with yourself,” using the hairband around my wrist, I quickly whip my hair up into a ponytail. My legs make their way to stand next to the boy. “It was better than I’d imagined it,” he adds. I backhand him on the arm. “Hey!” His eyes are warming. This is when I realise that I don’t regret it. At least, not half as much as I thought I would. It’s not even awkward. Part of me automatically assumed it would be. “Right,” I clap my hands together. “Are you ready to clean a house?” I ask. His rolling eyes scream loudly. Before he can even protest, I butt in. “This is your party, your mess. You’re lucky I’m gonna help you!”

With each step down the stairs, more of my messy house is revealed to me. “If anything’s broken, you’re replacing it,” I warn him. Red cups, empty beer bottles, even clothing was scattered across the floor. I start imagining the way people probably started behaving when JJ and I went upstairs. What if people fucked on... well... anywhere?! “I think we should just go back upstairs,” JJ suggests. This is going to take so long to clean. I feel JJ’s hand slap against my ass. “It’s never happening again,” I say simply. Yes, it was pretty amazing. No, I do not regret it. No, it should never happen again because our friends will kill us. “Whatever you say babe.”

Click here if you’re interested in reading PART TWO

#outer banks #jj maybank #outer banks jj #jj mayback x reader #smut #obx jj #jj obx #jj maybank smut

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theywontletmebeprincipal · 3 years

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can you give me drowsy headcanons, ramble, or anything please, i am so deprived. do not be afraid to make it super long, the more the better, i just love drowsy chaperone and love to hear other people (plus you’re one of the only people i’ve seen who knows a lot abt it)

ASK AND YE SHALL RECIEVE

I’ll divide this into a few different parts, going from least to most excruciatingly sad :)

1. general headcanons

2. in canon things i noticed and think about daily

3. a full analysis of man in chair’s connections with the drowsy chaperone as an in universe show (trigger warning for abuse ment, alcoholism ment, suicide ment)

SECTION ONE: HEADCANONS

- okay the chaperone is trans I don’t make the rules

- also her name is ambrosia :) she forsook her last name :)

- she’s about 12 years older than janet and kinda hung with janet’s family after leaving her own for a while . essentially she’s a big sister to janet

- aldolpho has some lines where he asks if the bride is big and/or burly and while in canon this is supposed to show he’s kind of a womanizer I like to believe it’s because he was fully prepared to fight her if needed

- speaking of which Of Course janet is ripped she does gymnastics

- my batshit crazy headcanon for this show is that dee dee allen from the prom is a descendant of roman bartelli no I will not elaborate

- is aldolpho one of those bitches with pets that definitely shouldn’t be legal? yessir

- post show kitty becomes a star okay I just want her to be happy

- the “pastry chefs” do discover a love of baking post show and now run a shop along with performing in feldzeig’s follies which might maybe be a front for some crime too

- TRIX DROWSY AND ALDOLPHO WORLD TRAVELING POLYCULE CAUSING PROBLEMS ON PURPOSE

- underling’s name is james I will not elaborate on this either

- show never says what trix does so I’ve decided she’s an explorer. she charts maps and punches colonialists and drags her stupid friends along with her, the only bitch in the show with a braincell

- drowsy was a former vaudeville child star pre transition - she left the business but was a mentor to janet

- I do have a headcanon for mic’s name but in the spirit of every actor who’s ever played him I won’t fucking tell

SECTION TWO: SHIT I NOTICED

- robert refers to himself by full name a lot of the time which is v interesting given he’s named after the writer, bob martin (whose wife is also named janet van de graaf). the real bob martin is like five feet away at all times playing mic

- idk how to describe it but the dynamic kitty and feldzeig (VICTOR felgzeig. we have a name from one (1) line) have when talking to each other is so snappy and funny and good

- aldolpho’s lines in spanish are mostly romantic bullshit but his first one hints that he has/had a wife who, if we’re taking the translation literally, refused to touch him. yeah I’ll bring this up in analysis

- the “pastry chefs” provide liquor for the wedding even though it has absolutely no relevance to their mission of stopping it :)

- drowsy is like. SUPER endearing towards janet and despite her bad social skills it’s super clear she cares a lot about her

- robert speaks fluent french apparently

- everyone says “ew” after aldolpho reveals his affair with drowsy despite her being a certified milf

- the body language of drowsy in the end of the show where she takes mic’s hands and breaks the barrier between reality and fiction is just so good. she was iconic the whole show but I honestly think this final bit is what won beth leavel the Tony in the end

SECTION THREE: OH NO

before diving into the way the drowsy chaperone affects his character, we need to understand what exactly it’s playing off of. to fully understand mic’s attachment to the drowsy chaperone, we need to outline what led him to isolating himself and living in fiction to the extent that he does.

mic’s father left his family at an early age and his semi estranged alcoholic mother was the one who began his love for theatre. mic grew up in a broken household and eventually moved on to land in a one sided marriage, which lasted a few months until he slipped up and expressed his discomfort with the situation, after which he and his wife split. nowadays, he lives alone in his apartment surrounded by records he uses to escape to a better life - his favorite of which being the one his mother gave him, the drowsy chaperone.

symbolism in the drowsy chaperone regarding mic’s life can be split into two main categories - mommy issues and internalized homophobia. there isn’t nearly as much mom symbolism as there is the latter, so I’ll cover that first.

drowsy covers both bases, but she definitely has some undeniable mom symbolism going on. drowsy marries aldolpho and mom dreams of being swept off her feet by a latin lover, both feel they’ve wasted their chances at love, both drink to forget, etc. this is where the idea of the drowsy chaperone being mic’s ideal way for things to work out, a positive parallel, comes into play. given that we don’t hear too much about mic’s mom other than her connections to major life events and the record itself, we can assume they grew apart in one way or another. the key difference is that drowsy finds a happy relationship for herself and retains her bond with janet, unlike what we’re led to assume mom was like.

further elaborating on the drowsy chaperone representing mic’s ideal fantasy version of events is the wedding the drowsy chaperone’s plot centers around. here’s a list of the things that didn’t stop that damn wedding:

- a minister not showing up

- the groom cheating on the bride with the bride

- the bride having a complete mental breakdown

- indirect mafia interference

- direct mafia interference

on the flip side, what little mic says about his wedding indicates it sucked absolute ass. he spent the entire ceremony in internal distress as he went through with a life changing event he, at that point, knew at least a bit that he didn’t want. I think he also implies he had severe diarrhea on the wedding day? it gets worse when you realize mic’s relationship before the wedding wasn’t any good for him either - he was playing along the whole time because it would be cruel not to, right?

throughout the show, mic is pretty clearly shown as an extremely repressed gay man. there are five specific instances that point at romantic and/or sexual attraction to men directly and another moment outside of his commentary that pretty much confirms it if you look a little bit deeper. thus, here is what I propose - to mic, the drowsy chaperone’s wedding plot represents a world where he was able to ignore that part of himself and have a happy marriage with his wife despite all the overwhelming obstacles thrown at him. however, bits and pieces of that internalized homophobia manage to show themselves throughout the drowsy chaperone anyway despite its happy ending. here’s a rundown on a few significant instances:

- by the end of the show, the “pastry chefs”, who had literally been planning to kill feldzeig, have left their life of crime to perform with him. this symbolizes how in mic’s ideal world he would have been able to turn away from what he perceived at the time as living wrongly - his homosexuality

- at the same time, the “pastry chefs” have this line, spoken in regards to janet: “if she gets married and leaves the show... there ain’t no show.” this is a take on mic’s subconscious concern that he might lose himself if he goes on with his marriage pretending everything is alright - of course, as we already know, he doesn’t listen

- “cold feets” is a pretty obvious instance of mic’s hesitation

- aldolpho’s line in spanish regarding the wife who won’t touch him flips to reflect on mic’s treatment of his own ex wife - she was alien to him as a lover, just as aldolpho was to this woman

- janet recalls her meeting robert at a point in the show and states “we spooned, briefly, then he proposed.” though mic’s relationship pre marriage was much longer than that, it must have felt that way to him - just as quick and nonsensical as janet describes

- just as janet is caught in showbiz but has a toxic love for it, so does mic with his own repressed life

- janet has a line in “show off” that alludes to her experiencing harassment/assault: “I don’t wanna be cheered no more/ praised no more/ grabbed no more/ touched no more/ loved no more” , which I believe represents the way mic perceived his intimacy with his wife - labeled as love yet unenjoyable for him

- “I look into his eyes... I get all woozy. and that’s... love, isn’t it?” is another very clear nod to mic’s misconception of love based off the only thing he’s ever experienced, relationships with women he’s had to fake

- this is the part where I tell you the lyrics to toledo surprise are a metaphor for actively suppressing gay thoughts. I’ll just leave you with “if it tries to rise; don’t let it”. these lyrics are not comprehensive enough to make a dish - trust me, I have tried. it’s also notable that they serve a double entendre as instructions on how to beat the shit out of someone, but several lyrics are also directed towards the singer/audience. for example: “it’s a snap/ try it folks/ whip your whites/ split your yolks” is an easy metaphor for the unhealthy mental gymnastics required to repress oneself so wholeheartedly

it’s also worth noting the obvious just for the sake of it - mic copes with all this by isolating himself in a safe spot where he can use musicals to escape and live his ideal fantasy, even if it’s only for a short time. there are plenty of nods to this throughout the drowsy chaperone as well. in “as we stumble along” drowsy notes that “the best that we can do is hope a bluebird/ will sing a song/ as we stumble along” - to mic, musicals are his bluebird. while mic mostly indulges in these fantasies, he knows to a certain extent the sheer amount of time he’s spending in them is unhealthy. the first line of the show is “I hate theatre” and I think that to an extent? he does. obviously mic loves theatre as a concept, that can’t be denied. what he hates is the way he’s allowed it to confine him.

with all that out of the way, let’s move on to the most important moment of the show. if you’ve ever seen the show, you’ll know exactly which scene I’m talking about immediately. I’m referring to, of course, the infamous “l-ve while you can” scene. as janet stands at the alter she asks drowsy for one final word of advice, which is partially obscured by aldolpho dropping his cane. “l-ve while you can.” it’s a simple moment, but mic reveals to us that he’s been agonizing over it for years - did drowsy say “live” or “leave”? it occurs to everyone eventually, whether a couple days after the show like with me, or years after like with bob martin’s replacement on broadway that the most likely answer is that she had said “love while you can”. it’s this moment, when you realize why mic had never seen that as an option, that the drowsy chaperone’s status as a musical within a comedy within a tragedy is solidified. mic had no love in his life - his parents hated each other and he was forcing himself into relationships in which he felt nothing. to him, living and leaving were options, but loving never was. so he locked himself away.

as the final note on the record is playing, all power in mic’s apartment shuts down and the fantasy is ruined. the superintendent arrives and further invades his space, breaking the private sanctity he had built up for so long. she fixes the power and before mic can stop it from happening, the final note of the record plays. and the super recognizes it as a musical. she makes a remark about how much her wife loves musicals and leaves, completely unaware of what she’s just done.

mic sits in silence for a while. and then he begins to sing. gradually, the cast members begin to echo their songs, dancing around him but never touching him. then drowsy appears and sings harmony to mic. and she takes his hands. the show ends with the entire cast, including mic, taking off on trix’s airplane as the curtain falls, drowsy handing mic his record as the plane takes off.

some people interpret the ending as mic committing suicide, finally deciding between live and leave. I don’t personally believe that and neither does writer and original mic bob martin, but it’s still a valid interpretation. the drowsy chaperone’s ending is ambiguous, yes, but not to that extent. no matter what you believe the ending means, it was brought on not by the interruption of the fantasy, but by whatever realization the super’s remark about her wife triggered. as I see it, there are two main options here.

option one - mic realizes he still has time to live and to love. when he was younger the prospect of living as himself was unthinkable to him, yet now he sees that while he was spending countless years alone the world grew. drowsy offers mic her hand, an invitation to finally become what he had admired in her - someone who isn’t anywhere near perfect, but is damn well trying and living life without regret. he accepts.

option two - mic realizes that while he spent years alone the world moved on without him and he’s isolated himself so much from social interaction that he’d no longer be able to make a meaningful connection with anyone outside. so he stays inside instead, never trying, always trapped between live and leave. drowsy offers mic her hand - at least he’ll have a tune to carry with him.

I really want to believe we got option one. I think option one is the intended, really, given mic ends the show with a joyful goodbye to the audience. but the way that the ending is still left open for interpretation makes it so that we can never really know - we as the audience only get to be privy to a small part of mic’s life, and we don’t get the answers we want because at the end of the day they’re irrelevant to us - all we can do is make our own choice.

#the drowsy chaperone #musical theatre #musicals #broadway #musical meta #man in chair

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favefandomimagines · 3 years

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I Never Planned On You 1

AN: Chapter 1!!! I plan for this series to go all the way to Deathly Hallows and probably a few years after in an epilogue, so I have A LOT of things planned!

Kendra Black didn’t have a conventional childhood. She was just a child when her mother was killed and her father taken away. Imprisoned for a crime he didn’t commit.

Her entire life was met with scrutiny. Being a Black didn’t come with the best reputation. A family full of pure bloods who would do anything to keep their bloodline pure.

Kendra thought it was the old generation but her generation was kinder, more accepting. With the exception of an occasional Malfoy.

She was sent to live with her aunt Narcissa and her cousin Draco. But the second Remus Lupin, her dad’s best friend from Hogwarts, caught wind of the news he informed Andromeda. She was quite aggressive with making sure Kendra went to a good home that wasn’t filled with her family’s blood supremacy motto.

It was the first time Andromeda and Narcissa spoke since Andromeda was cast out of the family.

Kendra was always meant for greatness. That’s the one thing she remembered about her father. He’d make sure to tell her that she was going to do amazing things. And blood purity wouldn’t change that.

Her first four years at Hogwarts were filled with two things: teasing and mocking for being the daughter of a convicted killer and keeping an eye on Harry when he arrived.

Remus made sure Kendra knew the stakes if any of the Dark Lord’s followers or sympathizers knew of Harry’s enrollment at Hogwarts.

She often thought back to the first time she met Harry. It was the first quidditch match of the term and she could tell he was beyond terrified. She did the best to ease his nerves but she was her father’s daughter after all.

Kendra found herself at the Leaky Cauldron the day she was set to go back to Hogwarts. She descended the staircase and noticed the Weasley’s plus Harry and Hermione.

“Kendra Black! Wonderful to see you again my dear!” Mrs. Weasley greeted the young girl. “Hello, Mrs. Weasley.” Kendra smiled at her. “Have you got all of your things? Extra robes, all of your textbooks?” She questioned. “Yes, they’re all in my trunk. Even a few extra in case I want to get head start on lessons.” Kendra said.

“Good girl, now go get some breakfast in you! You’ll need it for the train ride.” Mrs. Weasley instructed her.

Kendra happily obliged, knowing not to disobey Molly Weasley’s orders. She walked over to the long table and sat in between Fred and George Weasley.

“Hello, Weasley’s. How was Egypt?” She asked. “Ask Ron, he’s been going on and on about it. Telling every bloody person he’s seen.” Fred answered.

Kendra laughed lightly as she grabbed the paper from George’s hands and went to look at the picture. “Have you not seen the paper yet?” He asked. “No. I’ve been in America with Andromeda and Ted. I got back a couple days ago.” Kendra answered.

“Why?” She asked. “Take a look at the front page.” Fred said. Kendra furrowed her eyebrows and flipped over the newspaper and her face fell.

Fred and George saw the girl grow white as a sheet against her dark hair. Her father’s mugshot adorned the front page of the Daily Prophet.

“Escaped?” She questioned out loud. “I’m sorry, Kendra. Where do you think he’ll go?” George added. “I have no idea.” She answered quietly.

But she knew of her father’s plans. And she knew he was going to be coming to Hogwarts.

“Let’s not worry about my father. We’re starting our fifth year, we’ve come so far!” Kendra said, quickly changing the subject. “Considering you hated us first year.” Fred commented. “I did not hate you! You just weren’t my two favorite people that’s all.” She rebutted.

“Well, now you love us. Couldn’t survive a day without our charm.” George added. “In your dreams, Weasley.” Kendra teased. “You show up there quite often, Black.” The youngest twin teased back.

The dynamic between Kendra and George Weasley was quite complicated. At first, it was clearly just innocent teasing but once puberty became a factor, the tone became less innocent. It became murky what the meaning and intent behind the otherwise innocent teasing was. Kendra didn’t know how George felt but to her it was very confusing.

The rest of the Weasley clan plus their three strays, made their way to King’s Cross Station to board the Hogwarts Express. It was customary, almost tradition, for Kendra to sit with the twins and their other friends Lee Jordan and Angelina Johnson.

Kendra didn’t have many friends but they were the small few who didn’t see her for her last name. House Black had a very grim reputation and most students couldn’t see past the rumors and its unfortunate history.

“Kendra! I can’t believe your father escaped Azkaban! He’s the first to ever do it!” Lee commented as the five got comfortable. George nudged Lee at his comment, not wanting Kendra to feel uncomfortable. “Well, us Blacks are quite ambitious.” She said with a breathy laugh.

“I’m sure he’s nowhere near Hogwarts. You’ve got nothing to worry about.” Angelina said, trying her best to make her friend feel at ease. But it was hard to feel at ease when Kendra knew of her father’s plans. Well at least she thought she did. She hadn’t seen her father since she was all but two years old. A lot can change in 12 years, people can change.

Kendra was afraid she would see her father and not recognize the man. George could sense something was wrong with the girl by the way she looked out the window. Her eyes moved with the rain drops that slide down the window of the train, head clearly anywhere but with them.

“Are you alright, Kendra?” George whispered to her. Kendra looked at the redhead but was unable to speak when the train came to a grinding halt, the lights flickering. “What was that?” Angelina asked. “Maybe it was a malfunction.” Lee answered.

The lights went out completely and the whole compartment became increasingly cold, the windows frosting. To them, nothing was going on but the windows getting cold and the lights going out. But to Harry Potter, he experienced something else. And it wasn’t long until words made its way to the cabin of five.

“Did you hear? Dementors were on board, Potter fainted. Apparently, they were looking for Sirius Black.” A second year told them. Kendra’s face fell before she stood. “I’ll be right back.” She announced. “Where are you going?” Fred asked. “Going to make sure Harry’s okay.” She answered, as if it were the most normal occurrence in the world.

Kendra made her way down the narrow passage to where she knew the trio would be sat. She noticed the compartment door open and peaked her head inside. “Harry, are you alright? Word travels fast.” She questioned.

Harry always found it quite strange that Kendra was always so worried about his well being and if he was okay. He asked her about it once and all she said was that she knew his mother and father. They were nice to her and she wanted to make sure that Harry would be out of harm's way.

“Yes, I’m okay. Just fainted is all.” Harry answered. Kendra’s glance moved from Harry to the man sitting next to him. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. We should be arriving at Hogwarts soon.” The girl said before making her exit.

She waited outside for a moment until Remus exited the compartment. “They think he’s coming to Hogwarts, don’t they?” She asked the man. “They have suspicion. His daughter and godson both in attendance. It wouldn’t be that far off.” Remus answered. “Do you think he will?” Kendra questioned.

“After your mother died, you were all he had. He’ll want to see you, innocent or not. The Ministry knows that.” The man answered. “And we can’t tell Harry?” She further questioned. “Tell him what?” Remus retorted. “The truth. That my father did not kill his parents.” Kendra answered. “He already knows that I knew Lily and James, he’s going to start asking questions.” She added. “And you will say you knew them through Andromeda and Ted. We cannot shift suspicion on to you, Kendra. Your father will not want you getting hurt.” Remus said.

“Now, I’m going to have a word with the driver. Make sure we do not stop for anymore Dementors.” He added before walking away. Kendra huffed before walking back in the opposite direction.

“Oi, Black! Heard your lunatic, blood traitor of a father escaped prison.” A voice called. The way Kendra could describe Draco Malfoy’s voice was like nails on a chalkboard.

And that was after his voice dropped. Living with the Malfoy’s for about a year made her hatred for youngest Malfoy grow even more.

“What’s it to you, Malfoy? I thought we were done with the whole ‘we’re family, let’s be civil’ thing?” Kendra questioned. “Aw come on, Kendra. There’s still time to accept your family.” Draco said. “I’d rather die than be a part of a legacy filled with hatred and ignorance.” She sneered before pushing past him roughly.

Kendra despised Draco Malfoy more than the entirety of Hogwarts. But the problem was she has also seen the way he was treated at home. Lucius Malfoy was the cause of Draco’s most loathed qualities. He was trapped in a family that didn’t see anything other than blood purity and that was ingrained in his head long before he started at Hogwarts.

And an ideology like that was very difficult to get rid of.

Kendra arrived back at the compartment with her friends and sat down with a huff. “Uh oh, someone does not look happy.” Fred said. “Just my usual run in with Malfoy.” Kendra said. “How you’re related to him is still a mystery to me.” Angelina said.

“I’d say the only relation is the family tree.” Kendra added. “Thank Merlin for Andromeda Black for falling in love with a muggle born.” George joked. Kendra sent him a grateful smile, as he was always able to make her feel better after any and all rough interactions.

The train stopped at the Hogwarts station and they quickly climbed in the carriages to make their way up to the castle.

Kendra thought of Hogwarts as more of a home than her actual home. She of course loved Andromeda and Ted for giving her the best life given the circumstances. But she felt a sense of comfort being at Hogwarts. It was her safe place.

All anyone could talk about, however, was the fact that Sirius Black was on the loose. She couldn’t blame them though. No one knew the truth, even Harry didn’t know so she felt she couldn't be upset with anyone.

She sat down at Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, making light conversation with her fellow housemates, as the choir gave their annual performance.

“How are you really feeling about the news of your father, Kendra?” George asked her quietly. “Honestly?” She questioned. George nodded his head with a soft smile before she answered.

“It feels strange. The staring has gotten worse but nothing I can’t handle.” She said. Their conversation was cut short by applause and Dumbledore beginning his usual start of term speech.

“Welcome! Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. Now, I’d like to say a few words before we all become too befuddled by our excellent feast. First, I’m pleased to welcome Professor R.J. Lupin who’s kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher,” Dumbledore started.

Kendra overheard Hermione and Harry discussing their own interaction with Remus in regards to the Dementor attack. She wondered why Remus really took the position. Was it to protect both her and Harry? Or just Harry?

“Our Care of Magical Creatures professor has decided to retire in order to spend more time with his remaining limbs. Fortunately, I'm delighted to announce that his place will be taken by none other than our own Rubeus Hagrid,” He continued.

Hagrid was always a favorite of Kendra’s. Mainly because he knew how it felt to get rumors spread about you that were so far from the truth.

“Finally, on a more disquieting note at the request of the Ministry of Magic, Hogwarts will, until further notice, play host to the dementors of Azkaban until such a time as Sirius Black is captured,” The older man said.

Kendra physically and noticeably stiffened at the grand announcement of her father’s escape. She felt the eyes of everyone on her, teachers included. She just wished she could apparate away and never be seen again.

“The dementors will be stationed at every entrance to the grounds. Now whilst I've been assured that their presence will not disrupt our day-to-day activities.” Dumbledore continued.

“A word of caution. Dementors are vicious creatures. They'll not distinguish between the one they hunt and the one who gets in their way. Therefore, I must warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. It is not in the nature of a dementor to be forgiving. Given the circumstances of Sirius Black’s own child here at Hogwarts, there will be no hexing or jinxing of any kind tolerated until he is apprehended. But you know, happiness can be found even in the darkest of times if one only remembers to turn on the light.” He finished before the feast commenced.

Kendra could hear the whispers from not only the other houses but those of her own housemates. It made her wish that Dumbledore wouldn’t have mentioned her in the first place. She could take care of herself and she doesn’t want to be seen as weak to anyone.

“I love being the center of attention but this is not what I had in mind.” Kendra muttered. “Ignore them. Like you said this is our fifth year, we’ve come so far let’s not impede our progress now.” George told her.

Kendra smiled at him before they continued with the feast.

When they had finished their food, some having bigger portions than others, Kendra and the twins made their way back to the Gryffindor common room. Of course the Fat Lady was more concerned about her voice than letting the students in but that was common at that point.

Kendra made it to her dorm, the one she shared with Angelina, Alicia and Katie and began unpacking her things.

“What do we all think about the Ministry sending Dementors to school?” Alicia asked. “I think it’s a terrible idea. What are our parents going to think?” Angelina answered. “I think it’s not safe. Especially for you, Kendra. They know you’re his daughter, what if they hurt you?” Katie questioned her friend.

“I hope they don’t. I didn’t do anything and I definitely do not know my father’s whereabouts. Though the entire school seems to think so.” Kendra answered. “We don’t think so. Your friends wouldn’t think that.” Angelina added. “I was hoping this was going to be a good term but with all of this going on, I can’t help but get the feeling something bad was going to happen.” Kendra muttered.

Of course her friends wished they could help her but given her situation, it was very difficult to make her feel any better.

Later that evening, Kendra was sitting next to George on the couch while Fred sat on the floor facing them. It was like any other evening with the Weasley twins despite their usual need to get into or cause trouble.

“Kendra, Professor Dumbledore would like to have a word with you.” Percy said entering the room. “Why?” She questioned. “He didn’t say. He just told me to send for you.” Percy answered. “Oooo Kendra’s in trouble.” Fred teased. “How can I be in trouble on the first night?” She asked. “You have a knack for getting into trouble, darling. Why do you think we’re such good friends?” George added.

Kendra rolled her eyes and exited the common room towards Dumbledore’s office.

It wasn’t every day you were summoned to the headmaster’s office but she had no doubt it had to do with her father.

She had only been to Dumbledore’s office once before and yet it was still just as magnificent as the last. She stepped inside carefully, not wanting to disturb any of the artifacts that were inside.

“You wished to see me, Professor?” Kendra asked. “Ah, yes, Ms. Black. I sincerely hope you do not take what I’m about to ask personally, but do you know of your father’s whereabouts?” Dumbledore questioned.

“With all due respect, Professor, I only found out about my father’s escape this morning. I don’t know anything about where my father is or how he escaped.” Kendra answered. “I figured as much. The Ministry has been very interested in your knowledge of his escape. I will write to the Minister and tell him there is no reason for his suspicion.” The man said.

“Thank you, Professor.” Kendra smiled at him. “Now, get some rest. I have taken a peek at our classes this term and you will need the sleep.” He instructed. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. Goodnight, sir.” She said. “Goodnight, Ms. Black.” Dumbledore replied.

Kendra walked down the corridor back towards the Gryffindor common room, her mind reeling with thoughts and theories.

The Ministry thought she was behind her father’s escape? Now the teachers find her suspicious? If it wasn’t bad enough that her peers whispered about her in the halls, now so will her teachers.

She sighed as she slowly approached the portrait and sighed. She was already fearing that this was going to be a very long year.

#imagine #imagines #harry potter imagine #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley #fred weasley #ron weasley #hermione granger #ginny weasley #draco malfoy

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geminimoonbeamx · 4 years

Text

And the snakes start to sing

A/N: Okay, so my anxiety since this entire Covid-19 situation came to light has been...pretty deteriorating to say the least. It’s funny(which it’s really not),The only thing I can think might help is to dig back deep into my writing. I really want to live in the fantasy worlds I can create in my head right now. So I will.

Warnings: Some angst(it is during the Marauders era), cursing, SMUT, and I feel like I should add this here- I wrote this as self therapy so this reader insert def has some specific looks and traits, if that bothers you I understand, but also I warned you so...

Summary: Sirius Black and Y/N steal a tender moment in the middle of the war. Marauders Era. Young Sirius Black(Ben Barnes) x Plus Size Reader

The way you slam your body into mine reminds me that I’m alive,

But monsters are always hungry darling- and they're only a few steps behind you.

Finding the flaw,

The Poor weld,

The place where we weren't quite stitched up right- Richard Silken

Part l

Adrenaline is a hell of a drug.

You mull on that fact as you sit in the driver's seat of the muggle car, gripping the wheel, skin pulled tight across your knuckles. You’re shaking - vibrating from deep in your core with so much velocity that it makes your teeth chatter. Your muscles ache as you try to regain control of your body, of your breathing- the only thing keeping you from completely crumbling is the focus that you have on the road in front of you-

Even then you don't really see the asphalt, dimly lit by street lamps that seemed to be few and far between the further you drove.

All you can see is that alley.

Dark, dank and frigidly cold, the death eaters that weren't supposed to be there, but who had seemed to show up in puffs of smoke. In three’s- and then four.

Five.

Six.

You hadn’t been able to keep count.

Faster than you, James and Mad Eye could take on.

For a moment, everything had been lightning speed. Time passed fast, in a blur. Blood and screaming. Spells, violent spells that you’d never uttered before thrown left and right, by both sides.

You'd watched bright green flashes pass by like shooting stars, almost grazing you. Illuminating the corridor in razor sharp rays.

So close that you could taste them.

Death tastes acidic. Bitter. Fizzles on your tongue and sticks to the back of your throat.

You still swallow around it even now, hours later, as you drive.

You’d forgotten how much you hate muggle travel. You’d much prefer to apparate, but James is in no state. He sits beside you, slumped in the passenger seat, clutching his side and wincing at every bump. Having grown up with his pure blood parents, there's no way he could have driven anyway, didn't know how. Perfect Potter isn't capable of everything, turns out.

That's fine, you’d assured him. You needed to be able to focus on something before the very little part of your brain that was still loosely wound, unraveled.

You hadn't shared that part, but you think he knows.

The radio crackles and a muggle band plays lowly.

The car makes its way down the long winding roads in silence. Shock settling over the two of you like a heavy blanket. There’s nothing that can be said- no words that could describe the ice that still ran through your veins or that could balm what had happened.

When you hit a particularly nasty pothole, cajoling the car roughly he hisses through his clenched teeth.

“Sorry’, fuck, I’m sorry” You apologize, righting the wheel in a tight jerk to the right, pressing on the brake. “Are you okay? Still bleeding?”

He’s damn lucky that that Confringo charm hadn't caught him directly, but still. When he’d flown into that brick wall, he’d done it with a bone crunching thud. You knew a few of his ribs were broken, his skin rubbed raw and cut open.

“M’fine. Moody did what he could- stopped the bleeding. I think. It stings like a son’va bitch though” James sounds tired, gravely. Voice void of that usual mirth it carried- his chestnut skin pale, clammy. “Drive faster- hopefully Dorcas is already back”

He’s right, Dorcas has healing hands. She’d whip up an ointment, utter an incantation, and he’d be good as new. You step down on the accelerator, foot heavy and mind eager to get somewhere that feels safe, even the trees you pass by feel like they’re watching you, waiting to leap at any turn.

Would you ever feel safe again? After looking into those eyes, seeing that face-

———-

The ride takes hours,

Your mind zones to dark places,

The two of you reach the current makeshift safe house.

———

Protective charms line it heavily, Dumbledor himself had drawn them

To the naked eye, you pull up onto what looks like an old decrepit factory in a row of old decrepit factories- all concrete and broken glass windows. Gritty rust covered metal high beams and caved in ceilings, the tires crunch on the gravel out front- you can barely put the car in park before you’re overcome by a sea of red-

Red hair, soft hands. Vivid green eyes.

Lilly comes bounding out, long legs propelling her forward fast.

“Y/N!” She shrieks as you climb out, you don't blame her for how she runs to James' side of the car. He looks far worse than you do, you think. But then again you haven't seen your reflection because the glance over she gives you is horrified.

“I’m okay, just get James! Lets get him inside” You hurry, your legs feel heavy as you meet her on the other side of the car.

It’s begun snowing again, fat flurries falling from the inky night sky, cold enough to start the shaking again. Your hands are uncoordinated paws, good for nothing and yet you help Lily, take one of James arms around your own shoulder as she takes the other, the two of you supporting him - dragging him towards the entrance.

“Gideon! Go find Dorcas!” She yells for one of the fiery headed Prewet twins who are spilling out of the building. Merlin, they look similar- she could be their kin. “Mad Eye was able to send us word about what happened in London! We’ve been waiting for you! I’ve been so scared- thank bloody God you two are even alive”

“We’re okay-“ you start, trying to calm your friend down. She seemed like she was two seconds away from blowing a fuse and well- you were one of the few who knew about her condition. You weren’t so sure complete emotional breakdowns were good for developing fetus’.

“Only because Y/N. She saved my life. She saved us all back there” James is barely conscious and defining not coherent.

You hadn’t saved, you’d killed. Innocent people included.

Lily is staring at you past James' bowed head and you can’t see her eyes.

Not when James is dragged in and whisked away by Dorcas who is already whisking something in a bowl, her braids piled atop her head and her deep eyes worried- yet sage. Calm, as she calls to you from over her shoulder. “That gash on your forehead is nasty! I’ll get to you next”

You hear them laying James down on the makeshift kitchen table and for some reason your feet are frozen in place. You can’t follow. Don’t care to see the chunk that was taken out of him back in the alley.

In the alley. In the snow; cold and frigid. Voldemort had appeared from the shadows and raised his wand high and you knew you were going to die, even though you weren’t ready to. Didn’t want to-

“Y/N” you raise your eyes-your mint and her emerald meeting somewhere in the middle. Lily’s are worried, the almond shape exaggerated.

You wonder if yours convey how far away you feel. How close you are to drifting right out of your body and floating up- somewhere quiet.

Because everything was too loud now- everyone bustling in and around you. Emaline Vance, Sturgis Podmore, Frank Longbottom- where was Marlene? And Sirius?

Had the night been as bloody and brutal for them as it had for you?

“Go” you croak at her “Go with him, Lil. Mending bones hurts like hell- I’ll just- I just need to-“

She looks torn, and you imagine she is. Her best friend is quite obviously on the verge of a panic attack and her fiancé is bleeding out on the kitchen table.

“Go” you insist once more, squeezing her forearm through her maroon cardigan, trying to encourage her.

You don’t inculpate her for James taking precedence, she all but peels herself away from your side to go sit next to him, to grasp at his hand as Dorcas covers his wounds in dittany and he grunts loud and pained.

You stumble backwards, not wanting to see anymore blood for the moment.

Maybe ever.

No, focus.

You force your brain not to check out yet as you limp back into the open space that seems to be slowly but surely filling up with other members of The Order.

People talk over each other and it's hard to get anyone to answer your questions.

When Remus, Shacklebolt and Peter walk into the fort, all looking disheveled but uninjured- you finally start getting somewhere.

Peter’s speech is fast and broken and nervous- you keep telling him to slow down. You can't manage to understand what he's saying.

“Fuck, Peter! Merlin just shut up- shut up for two seconds. Remus, what happened?”

Edgar Bones and his family were killed, but everyone else was still intact- just scattered. Trying to find their way back home, back to headquarters or any local safe house.

You gape at Remus, as he tells you the news. His voice is sturdy even though he looks like he might keel over at any moment, which is why you’d always sought him out, since you were kids. Remus was in a constant state of suffering, and yet he was nearly always the most clear headed person in the room.

His eyes though- they always did betray him. You can see it in the amber iris. The horror. The sorrow. The fear.

Edgar Bones was dead.

Edgar, and his husband, and his two children- he’d show them to you once. Opened the silver locket that was ever presently around his neck and two smiling waving dark haired cherub cheeked kids waved back from the photos inside.

Bile rises in your throat and you stare up at Remus, still just trying to process it all. His mouth is still moving and is certainly forming words, but the loud whomping in your ears keeps you from hearing them.

You’re all going to die, the thought is sharp and ragged and cuts up your brain.

“Oh”, is all you can manage. It’s a whisper, the most you can force. Remus reaches for you and you easily avoid his big scarred hand, stepping away from it before it can land on your arm.

You choose to ignore the hurt look that flashes briefly on his face.

Kingsley Shacklebolt starts listing off the known locations of other members then. Dumbledor is delivering the news to the Bones, Feniwick is held up at Hogwarts- there had been an attack in Hogsmeade. Four Muggle borns had been killed in the street. Sirius and Marlene along with Alice Longbottom have made fort at the McKinnon’s cabin, a known safe house, stuck for the moment as most are.

“Mad Eye’s gone to rally with Aberforth. I think they’re trying to track the Lestranges- that’s w-who ambushed us tonight”

By the look they give you, you know they know those aren't the only people who you’d crossed wands with.

“You know who is on the move, we heard it- he’s angry cause’ of what happened back in London. What did happen? Is James okay?” Peter questions and you really do feel bad for snapping at him, for telling him to shut up. He's just scared, for himself and for his friends.

You know how much Peter cared about James.

“He’s fine, he’s in the kitchen getting mended by Dorcas- Lily’s with him”

The rest of it, the story that everyone seems so eager to hear, you hold back. Tight lipped, chest heavy. The stout blonde man looks like he wants to ask more, go forward, but he just nods and scurries into the kitchen.

That’s fine. James’ll relay it all to his friends, to the Order.

And everyone will know just what you did.

Your stomach rolls threateningly.

————-

Adrenaline is a hell of a drug.

First- you soar on it. It carries you through, you can’t feel pain or time as it curses through your bloodstream. But then,then, after your body’s flight or fight checks off, it makes you crash. You stumble down from the high- pain throbbing and world going molasses slow. Your stomach churns and your head pounds from the whiplash like stop.

You empty what feels like your soul into the porcelain toilet of a spare bathroom that you’d barley found before you started spewing. It’s violent, your whole body convulses with every gag, and it seems to go on for an eternity even though you can’t even remember what and when you’d last eaten.

You choke on bile a bit before you stumble over to the sink, turning on the creaky faucet and putting your mouth right in the stream.

You’d been able to stand the questioning and the looks and the pricing for just about a half an hour before that familiar wave of anxiety that you’d managed to keep at bay overwhelmed you and sent you running.

A breakdown was very much due. You’d rather no one bare witness to it.

Not even Lily who’s threatened to plow down the door at least twice now.

When you connect eyes with yourself in the mirror you almost look away. The reflection that stares back at you is alien. The woman feels so far away- that you raise a shaky hand, touching the glass. Trying to convince yourself that it’s real.

That you’re real.

There’s blood, mostly dried, that has run into your eye from the cut in your hair line that’s really more of a sloppy open bruise and you rinse it off, scrubbing with your fingers til’ it hurts. The blood won’t come off, your hands stained red. Blood everywhere. Your blood. James blood. That Death Eater’s. Those muggles that had just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time-

Your breath goes choppy again, sobbing on air as you think about it. You just need the red to be gone, you’ll feel better once it’s gone.

In the corner of the mirror, you side eye the shower behind you.

——————

Part ll

The rooms in this place remind you of the girls dormitories back at Hogwarts.

Or maybe you just miss the girls dormitories back at Hogwarts.

You bet it’s the latter, because the only thing similar is the fact that there’s a row of beds. There’s no Lily laughing, or Marlene painting, or Mary dancing. All of those things feel so distant now, memories that you never thought to cherish but that you now hold on to with claw like ferocity.

You’d do anything to be fifteen again, cooped up in the castle on a sunny afternoon.

Instead you stand in the middle of a drafty room, your skin raw and flushed from the blistering temperature of the shower, the ends of your curly hair dripping down your back as you clutch the towel that someone (Lily) had left outside the bathroom door to your body.

You sit down on the bed where your nap sack had been dumped- the extender charm you’d put on it had been a bitch to get right, but you're grateful for it as you dig around it’s never ending contents- able to find a clean cream colored sweater and leggings.

You're shimmying the clinging black fabric up your thighs when there's a knock at the door.

You sigh. You can’t keep putting her off. You’re being a shitty friend when she’s trying to be a good one, and you know it.

“Come in, Lily. I’m dressed” You call, back to the door as you drag the towel over and through your hair, frowning at the curly untamed state, before beginning to twist it into some semblance of a bun.

“Actually, not to disappoint you but it’s just me”

The voice is deep, silken. Familiar. Distinctly masculine, and definitely not Lily’s.

You turn fast, and hopeful. Your eyes wide when they land on the tall figure that looms in the doorway.

“And I was hoping you wouldn't be dressed”

Sirius stands there, his slate eyes combing over you, a small grin tugging at the left side of his mouth. He looks a little tired- the fine lined wrinkles on the outer corner of his eyes and the bags under them both deep, pronounced. He obviously hasn't shaved since you’d last seen him, weeks ago. What had been a shadow was now dark scruff. His hair is scraped away from his face, tied in it’s usual knot at the back of his neck and he’s donning his signature worn leather jacket. He looks so familiar that it almost brings tears to your eyes. Standing there, being crude and handsome and real.

You felt so foreign in your own skin that seeing him so solid is a relief that you can't quite explain. He’s a strong boulder, a rooted tree, that you can tether yourself to.

You want to tell him that. That you didn't realize how much you needed him until that moment. You kind of hate that realization because needing Sirius Black was stupid, so stupid.

“What are you doing here?” Is what comes out instead. Wrong, you always say the wrong thing when he’s around “I thought you we’re stuck at the Cabin”

He doesn't look offended, but he does look concerned, as he closes the door behind him. “I was. I was able to slip past them though.'' He shrugs, casually, as though he hadn't risked his life leaving the McKinnon’s.

He was always so blase about everything. It drove you absolutely bonkers.

“I’m taking it you did that on four legs?”

Ever since you’d learned about Sirius, James and Peter's Animagi sized secret, everything made sense. You knew they weren't lucky enough to get away with all that shit they had back in school. Definitely not smart enough, either.

He shrugs again and you bite the inside of your cheek hard as he sits down on the bed that you had claimed for the night as your own. He's so much taller then you that even sitting in this position, the two of you are almost eye level.

“I heard what happened, I wanted to make sure you guys were okay. Plus, once my cousin got her pound of flesh she took off- left Crabbe and McNair in the forest. Fucking idiots couldn't find their own noses in a mirror. There’s no IQ test for up and coming Death Eaters, is there?”

Of course he’d heard. You can't meet his gaze- that intense stare that he’s been giving you since he’d walked in. You don't know what to make of it, don't really know how it makes you feel.

But then again none of that was anything new. There was no label to slap onto what you and Sirius had started, onto what you felt for him. Marlene had accused the two of you being fuck buddies, but that wasnt it.

You’d have to have been friends before it for that to be accurate, which you weren't.

You weren't even sure that you were friends now.

All you knew is that you were glad to see him, even if that happiness was laced with confusion.

“I suppose not. Your cousin isn't the brightest bulb either. She’s just cunty enough to be through most of the time” You’ve always despised Bellatrix Black- ah, no, she’s a Lestrange now isn't she? Figures she’d marry one of those fucked up inbred brothers. Trash congregates with trash.

“True. She always was committed to being cruel”

“She needs lend some of that commitment to brushing her hair regularly”

Sirius snorts, shaking his head a bit. You’re good, so fucking good at deflecting “You know Dorcas is still looking for you. She wants to check out your head”

“It’s a shallow cut, I’m fine” sounds hollow even to your ears and his small scoff is honestly what you would've given him if the roles were reversed. “I am” you start stronger, trying, really trying “I’m just...tired. I’m rubbish at combative spells- I know you remember me in D.A.D.A. I could barely pass my Newt. It took a lot out of me, is all”

Sirius lets you ramble, which is a nicety for him because you can see that he’s fighting himself from cutting you off. Sirius doesn't take bullshit, can't stomach it.

“You went head to head with Voldemort tonight and you’re trying to tell me that you’re ‘rubbish at combative’ spells? What the fuck, Y/N?” He says bluntly, grabbing you by your wrists as you try to back away, holding you steady, not letting you run away. “It’s just me. Talk to me”

The vulnerability you feel in that moment is only just weighed out by your stubbornness as you stare right back at him, teeth clenched, unwilling to break that eye contact. He was calling you out, almost challenging you.

“What do you mean what the fuck? You what the fuck, Sirius! I don’t know what you want me to say-” You’re defensive, your hackles are raised and your voice is razor sharp.

“What happened?”

“Oh, bugger off. Don't act like you didn't talk to James before you came up here. You know exactly what happened”

“I want you to tell me what happened- no, don't look at me like that. I’m not the others, I’m not- I’ve told you everything. All the ugly that I’ve seen, that I’ve done. I would never judge you, and what you were forced to do tonight? That’s not something that anyone is going to judge you on” His voice is too soft, it doesn't match the strong grip of his long fingers around your wrist.

Doesn’t match the rough way he usually fucks you or the lukewarm looks he gives you when the two of you are in public.

You tug on his hold, if only to make sure he won't let go.

He doesn't.

Tethered, your brain again supplies that word for the feeling of security he gives you.

“I killed three people tonight, I think. I don't know- it was all so fast, everything happened so fast. We were just supposed to be gaining intel, you know? And then out of nowhere they were swarming us, Sirius. Blocking is in. James got hit right before Voldemort apparated in and I- I knew we were going to die. So I- I just blew everything up” Tears are rolling down your face as you recount the events. You don't know how to describe to him how cold it was, how scared you were. You’d never experienced fear like that “I didn't have control of that spell, I’d read about it, but I had no idea that it was going to…”

The fucked up part is that you knew it might. You knew that it could incinerate everyone and everything. Including you and James and Moody. But in that moment...that desperation you felt out weighed it all.

“Hey, hey look at me- we’ve all been there. You did what you had to do. You dont think we all throw out spells that we have no fucking idea how to use In the heat of the moment?” You didn't realize that you’d said that last part aloud, but confessing to Sirius had gotten all too easy these last few months.

He made your lips loose, lowered all your inhibitions without your permission. You hated him for it. Craved him every moment that he wasn't around for it.

This war was turning you to stone. Cold and rigid, but You didn't feel like you had to be marble hard when he was around.

“I could've killed us all. I killed those muggles- fuck. They didn't know- they didn't do anything” You’re sobbing again, soft underbelly exposed. He could gut you right now if he wanted to. “They were innocent”

“Shh, C’mere” He pulls you in between his spread legs, lets go of your wrists in order to envelope you in his gangly arms, to squeeze at your thick waist and shoulders as he holds you. “You didn't kill them, Y/N. James said it was the counter curse that Voldemort used that hit them- think about the positioning. They were on the same side of the alley that you were- crossing that street, they got hit with a curse that was meant for you”

You shake your head, burying your face in the soft thin skin of his neck because he’s wrong. You know he is. James was out of it, pain clouding his senses. You knew what you did.

Sirius doesn't argue it further, just lets you cling to him. Allows your cries, ugly and snotty, to shake you both.

He lets you get it all out- until you're hiccuping on the last of your tears. You're completely slumped against him, pretty much sitting in his lap as he supports all of your weight. You’d be more self conscious in that moment if you had any energy left to be.

“It was so horrible. There were...pieces of people. Everywhere” You shudder because you can still see it. Like you're still there.

Sirius’ arms tighten at that, squeezing you to him for a minute. A hug within a hug,

“There are casualties in war...it sounds fucked up, and it doesn't make any of what happened tonight better, but it is what it is”

He’s not nice, not really. He gives you the hard truth that you don't want to swallow. They aren't the pretty words that you want, but they are what you need.

War is ugly, and up until tonight, you’d been willingly ignorant to that fact. You’d heard the horror stories of what Voldemort and the death eaters had done, and were doing, but you'd never experienced any of it first hand.

Seeing changed everything.

No one, from either side would come out of this clean. Everyone and everything would be blood stained, tainted.

It’s a heavy realization, that the world you were fight for would never be the same.

You pull away from Sirius then, grabbing his hand and losing your fingers with yours when he goes to grab, to keep you close. He watches, dark brows pulled together, as you lie down on the lumpy old bed, head resting on the singular flat pillow.

“Lay with me? Please?” You give his hand a tug, tac on that pretty please at the end.

Like it’s necessary.

Like he wasn't planning on staying since the moment he’d walked through that door- you could have thrown a fit. Hit him, hexed him, and he still wouldn't have left you. “I’m so tired”

He stands from the bed and you make a small hurt little sound.

“I’m not going anywhere, hush” He smiles, canine grin and crinkled nose as he sheds his leather jacket, combat boots and scratchy dark jeans coming off next, leaving him in a long sleeved t-shirt and a pair of threadbare black boxers that had seen better days and definitely were sporting a hole or two.

“Lumos Nox” with a flick of his wand, the lights in the room go out.

The bed really wasn't big enough for two people, but you made due. Sirius all but laid his entire long lean body on top of yours, acting as a sort of human blanket.

“Oof, bloody hell, Sirius!” you tease, squirming under him for a minute but loving every inch of him pressed down on top of you. You felt secure, safe. So different then you had in the car when you’d wondered if you’d ever feel this way again. You twine your arms around him, giving him the room to nuzzle his face into your bosom, nosing at the soft fabric of your sweater as your fingers bury themselves in his thick onyx hair.

He’s all but purring as you scrape your nails against his scalp. He’s not really a big scary dog at all, no. He’s more pussycat than anything.

The silence is peaceful, his head rests on your chest and everything smells like him. Sandalwood and cigarette smoke, and something sweet that you could never quite put your finger on. Dark and sensual and overwhelming. It always sticks to your clothes, after nights like this. You know you'll smell him in your hair for days.

Sometimes it’s still mind boggling that this is where the two of you had ended up. That you got to have him like this. You remember the days that you would pine for him, years one through four at Hogwarts had been hard on your fragile little heart. Too young to fully understand that boys like Sirius didn't look twice at girls like you.

And he hadn't.

The girls he dated, and Merlin was there a slew of them, had been beautiful in a way that you just...weren't. You’d never have a thin nose or mile long legs. And so you dropped the torch you carried for him, let the flame die out until all that was left were low simmering, angry, embers. Because fuck Sirius Black for not wanting you.

Even now, you wonder if he really does.

Want you.

Yes, the two of you had shown each other your bleeding hearts, had let each other see the dark, odd, ugly puzzle pieces that didn't quite fit into the persona’s you publicly displayed...but you wonder all the time if it wasn't just...trauma bonding.

Clinging to the only available warmth during a blizzard, trying to find someone to weather the storm with.

Without this war, without the two of you being forced together by the horrible things that were being done, that you were doing, would there even be anything there? The two of you weren't James and Lily, weren't destined to be together, to get married and live happily ever after. Your love, if that's what it was at all, wouldn't survive the war like theirs would.

“Your going to hurt yourself” Sirius’ words are muffled as he speaks them into your sweater.

“Huh?”

“You’re thinking too hard. I can practically hear the muscles straining in your brain Y/L/N” You tug on his locks at his statement, lightly enough to not cause pain- even though you knew now that he liked that.

“It’s nothing” you insist.

The last 24 hours has been hard enough, you aren’t about to fuck them up further by questioning feelings, stirring up the inevitable end of this...thing.

“”It’s something” he’s an insistent pushy tosser.

“I’m just wondering why you came back tonight, is all” you try to keep a casual cadence to your tone, but still.

Sirius props his chin on your chest. The room is dark enough that you can’t see him, but you can feel him studying you “When I heard about what happened and then found out that it was you and James that’d been there...I knew I had to find a way to get here. The two of you-“

There’s a long gap of silence. You wonder if he can hear your heartbeat hummingbird fast in your chest as you wait for him to continue.

“- Are my best friends. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost one of you. And then I hear that I almost lost both of you at the same time? It was fucked. I don’t know what I would’ve done if...I’d things would’ve gone differently”

You know this is hard for him.

Sirius is just about the most emotional person you’ve ever met- he feels everything so intensely, it’s alarming really. And yet he can’t ever voice those feelings in a way that’s not screaming or drunken declarations.

His parents had really done a number on him.

“We’re friends?” Your question might sound stupid, but really, you were curious. You never thought he wanted you as a friend.

“Blimey, Y/N, are you serious?” He sits up even further, voice laced with disbelief as he rests his elbows on either side of your head, his face hovering above yours now.

“I’m just asking! I never knew, and you’ve never said. Don’t be a dickhead about it” Is your barbed reply.

He lets out a barking laugh and you can’t tell if he’s annoyed or amused. Probably some mixture of the two.

“I told you about my father breaking my fingers when I refused to learn the piano” He sounds...guarded. You hate it, that you caused that. His guard to go back up. You should’ve kept your big mouth shut. Your right hand planes up and across his biceps. Resting on his shoulder.

“I know. I’m sorry”

“Don’t be sorry, just know that I would never tell that to someone that I didn’t consider a friend. That I didn’t care about”

See? Emotional. So emotional. It’s like it bubbles up within him, always threatening to overflow. You could never guess when the next outburst would be.

“Well that’s good, I guess I consider you a friend too. I never did before, when we were kids, but now I don’t know what I would do...without your friendship”

Friendship is a deceitful word, a mask of something else that was far too big for either of you to attempt to tackle.

“I don’t know what I’d do without your friendship either. I never want to find out. I really did lose it a bit when I heard about what you did. Ask Marlene. She said I was overreacting”

This is a confession- it’s I love you without the strings. It’s I need you without the commitment.

It’s not fair, to either of you and it’s messy and doomed.

But it’s beautiful, all the same.

“I bet you were” you give a watery chuckle, and he presses his forehead to yours, nudging your nose with his.

“Maybe just a bit, but if we would’ve lost you tonight, I would’ve-“ he breathes deep through his nose “I don’t know what I would’ve done. Hunted them all down, probably”

It’s hot, no, physically hot. You’re burning up, his words striking a match and lighting an inferno inside of you that’d laid dormant for years.

“You can’t leave me anytime soon, got it Y/L/N?” His mouth is less than an inch away from yours, his words feel feathery against your parted lips.

“Mmhmm, I’ve got it” you're breathless already, on the verge of whining and Sirius is just a man, only human. How is that not supposed to drive him mad

“Good” he grunts out fast, before slamming his mouth to yours. He’s not slow like he’d like to be, like he knows you deserve. His kisses are hungry and wet and consuming and you just part those pretty lips and whimper into his mouth, begging him to keep going. To keep taking, so he does. Bracketing his hands on either side of your face, using it as leverage to fuck his tongue in and out of your mouth as his skin hips slot between your fatty thighs.

You pant into each other's mouths as tongues explore the places behind teeth, and Sirius hips find a rhythm that matches his tongue.

“Fuck” you pull away with a gasp and Sirius just drags his spit wet mouth down, across your chin, down your neck. When he sucks an earlobe between his teeth you mewl, legs coming up, your feet propped against the back of his thighs as you pull him closer, nestling him even deeper into the center of your thighs.

He very much likes being between your legs, as he’s told you that very fact before.

It’s warm and you’re plush and soft all over, his fingers dig into the meat of your thighs, hips, belly as yours muse his hair, slipping the elastic out so that the tendrils fall freely, long enough now to curtain the two of you, brushing against your cheekbones.

It’s needier than it’s ever been, and when Sirius tugs off your sweater impatiently he literally groans as his hands map out your bare skin touching all the places that usually make you flinch. Rolls and stretch marks- it’s like he needs to feel everything. When he cups your large breasts, one in each palm you full body shiver. He paws at them, thumbing your nipples until they pebble under his touch, before his mouth takes over.

His tongue swirls around the hard buds sloppily. Too much spit, less teeth that usually are biting and sharp. He’s suckling, all over, marking you up, taking his time.

“Sirius, please” your whines are high in your throat and almost pitiful as you fist his hair. He hushes you gently, suckling turning to open mouthed kisses, before he pulls away, stripping his shirt off, in one elegant sweep.

His torso, long and lean- yet toned and sturdy is on display then and honestly you kind of want to turn the lights back on just to look at him for a while.

Usually, Sirius loves to tease. To draw things out at an almost painful pace. It’s maddening. But not tonight.

No, he’s helping you peel your leggings off your curvy calves, then stripping himself of his boxers quickly.

Things are different- somethings shifted. Everything feels all consuming, passionate, both of you are gulping for air as you rut against each other, rubbing and writing. Trying to press as much bare skin together as possible.

He presses two fingers inside of your wet cunt as he rubs his scruff against the sensitive skin of your neck and you keen, high and loud.

Instead of shushing you, he reaches blindly and clumsily for his wand. “Muffilato”

He really is a great multitasker- he manages to cast the silencing charm as he crooks his fingers inside of you, padding at your g spot and making you wail brokenly.

“That’s it, pretty. You can be as loud as you want, go on love” he coos in your ear and holy shit sex with Sirius has been good since it’s inception- but this is something else.

Maybe it’s because of what you’d experienced earlier- all of those negative emotions being combated by all of these good ones but fuck. It felt so good.

He fucks you with his fingers, two and then three and you’re sobbing even before he kisses down your body. Lips scorching and brandishing. When his hot wet tongue slithers between your lips, zeroing in on your clit you’re done for.

It’s embarrassing how little time it takes for your body to tense up, for you to clench around his pounding digits.

“S-s-shit- oh fuck! Sirius!” You grapple at his shoulders, yank at his hair as you convulse, lost to the orgasm that rips through your chest like a bullet.

He works you through it. With little licks, and then soothing words as he pulls his fingers out of you. Your legs fall even farther open and you feel like a well wrung out dish towel.

He’s still being so sweet, as he situates you both on your sides, spooning you from behind. He nuzzles at your still wet curls and really, you’re almost asleep at this point- but not so out of it that you’re unaware of him hard against your lower back.

“Sirius” you mumble, reaching behind you, your short chubby fingers wrapping around his cock. It’s so perfect in your hand- skin hot. Rock hard and velvet smooth.

He groans low at the contact, stills your hand with his “No, it’s okay. I just wanted to take care of you”

You frown at that, whining- and not a happy one “But I want you inside of me”

“You’re barely coherent right now- you’re gonna’ fall asleep any second” he counters back, although you can hear there’s little fight in his strained voice.

“So fuck me while I’m asleep. I want you. We can do it just like this, gonna feel so good” you’re exhausted, but you’ve never wanted anything more. You rub your ass against him, you can feel the tip at the top of your crack and he’s breathing raggedly into your hair.

“Fuck woman. You’re insane” It’s a laugh, or maybe a moan as he grabs the back of your knee, raising it, giving him access to the wet hot flesh between your thighs. He hisses as he guides himself inside of you, and you both sigh when he bottoms out.

Hells, this angle is so good. You get to be completely lazy, just laying there like a doll and taking it as he holds you close and pumps his hips.

The room is filled with wet slapping and breathless panting.

There’s no way you can come again so soon, you’d never been one of those multiple orgasm kind of girls- Sirius gives a strong thrust, the tip of his cock brushing your cervix and sending shockwaves down your tailbone.

Your nails dig into his forearm as you gasp. You’re totally going to come again. Everything is hypersensitive, molten fire, pleasure so bright it’s almost pain as you hold onto him.

“God- you feel so bloody amazing” Sirius’ mouth is right at your ear, you can hear how close he is, that stutter in his breathing “I’m not gonna last- I can’t- fuck. It’s too good”

“Come inside me. Please. I want- fuck I want you closer. Never want you to stop. Want you like this forever, Please” It’s your own words that tip you over the edge for the second time. Thinking about Sirius being close like this, forever. You want him, balls deep inside of you for the rest of your life. You’d never really had an orgasm that was completely internal, your neglected clit not responsible for the tightening of your walls, for the screech that leaves your throat.

Sirius curses, chokes on a loud moan, and then stills inside you. Grabbing you, holding you still as he buries himself to the hilt and empties himself in hot spirits into your womb.

He feels shaky and uncoordinated as he tries to regather himself. Merlins fucking beard- he’d never come that hard. Ever. He swears he’s still feeling the shock waves minutes later when he’s finally able to move.

He breathes in through his teeth and you let out a squeaky mewl as he pulls out.

“Sorry, I’m sorry” he kisses your shoulder soothingly.

Never want you to stop

The words that you’d spoke in the throws of your pleasure ring in his head as he manages to locate that towel you’d used earlier and clean both of you off. It’s half assed and you’d both certainly need to shower before you but back on clothes but at least he’d tried.

“You still awake?” He whispers to you because you’ve gone so still, your body loose and your breathing even.

You make a noncommittal sound, half of an ‘mmhmm’ and he chuckles, managing to get the blanket up and around the both of you before curling himself back around your body.

He’ll let you have the only pillow, that’s fine. You’re so plush and soft anyway. One big pillow, really. More comfortable than the expensive peacock feathers his mom used to fawn over when he was little.

You’re out like a light, and yet Sirius’ mind is going a mile a minute.

I want you closer

You’d almost died, less then twelve hours ago. James has told him how close it had been for both of you. How narrowly you’d escaped death's grasp.

Sirius presses his face onto your back, off centered from the nape of your neck. You smell like your shampoo here- blackberries and sweet lavender.

He had ran, lungs heaving and paws aching through the woods around the McKinnon Cabin. Desperation fueling him. He’d been so scared. The moment he’d been out of sight, he’d appirated to this safe house. He’d only been here once and could barely conjure the image in his head, but he’d still done it.

He could’ve gotten caught, he could’ve been splinched.

Even now, he doesn’t care.

He can pretend that it was out of concern for his best friend, and yeah a big part of it was. James was his brother. The only family he had left and seeing him to make sure he was safe and okay was important to Sirius…

But in the dark, with his arms wrapped around you and the smell of you all over him, he can admit that he’d snapped in a way that he never had before. When he’d heard that you’d been the one to lift your wand and fight, that Voldemort had thrown curses directly at you…

He was terrified.

Not much scared him these days- and that was the sad truth. He was brave to the point of recklessness, he’d always prided himself on that fact.

But the idea of losing you? That he was scared of.

Want you like this forever.

Please.

Another thing that Sirius Black was scared of? The fact that he wanted you forever, too. He wasn’t made for love, not the kind that he knew you wanted. Not the kind that he watched his friends partake in.

He’d let you down eventually, he knew it, and with as smart as you were, he knew you knew it too.

But not tonight.

Tonight he’d hold you, breathe you in, and pretend that there wasn’t a war waging in the world outside.

————

Many years later, while he lay on the dirty stone floor of his Azkaban cell- he stares wordlessly at the ceiling and remembers how you smelled of lavender and blackberries. How you’d giggled like sunshine and fought like hell.

And he remembers, most, how much he loved you.

Alright guys! Thank you for taking the time to read this massive one shot! I hope you enjoyed it. As always I ask that you comment, and reblog if its possible. Love you all!

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@peacefulwriter88 @jalapenobarnes @jaamesbbarnes @gifsbysimplysonia @brieannakeogh @allaboardthereadingrailroad @all-about-sirius @spidey-babe-parker @propertyofpoeandbucky @hufflepuff-always-and-forever @autirobo @louisianaspell @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @hufflepuffing-all-day-long @threeminutesoflife @writeturnlove @benbarnesescape

Well, that was painful lol. I’ve been feeling really angsty with everything that’s been going on in the world- so I decided to lean into it. I will be writing some fluff pieces soon too, to cope with this quarantining, so keep an eye out.

Okay so we all have the time I thought I’d write a kind of long author's note down here. Harry Potter is my all time favorite Fandom(and fun fact, was the first fandom I ever wrote for) and I definitely don’t give it the love it deserves here on my page.

Sirius Black *chefs kiss while sobbing* That man taught me how to love. He was my first true male character love.

My Fan-Casting has always been a little different then everyone else’s, but lately I’ve really tightened up my dream cast and I love it so much so I thought I’d share(obvs, please feel free to imagine whoever you want in these roles):

Sirius Black: Okay this is probably the only casting I have that is like OG dawn of time Sirius fan cast. BEN BARNES IS SIRIUS BLACK. He always will be to me and nothing will ever change my mind. I imagine Ben with like some Harry Styles mannerisms when I write my Sirius.

James Potter: Chance Perdomo. James Potter was brown and that is that. Chance won me over as Ambrose in Sabrina. He’s so cheeky and thoughtful and arrogant and perfect.

Lily Evans(Potter): Sophie Skelton! This is actually a pretty popular cast for her which makes me so happy because Sophie is so perfect for Lily. I could never get behind the Karen Gillian wave. Sorry.

Remus Lupin: Daniel Sharman- I recently came across a post with Daniel as a young Remus and omg my life is changed for the better!

Peter Pettigrew: Okay so I feel like Peter is so hard to cast- but when I think of Rowling’s book desript of him I always come back to one actor. Jonah Hill. I feel like he would tear this part uppppp. Also he’s plus sized unlike all the other actors I always see people fc him with.

Marlene McKinnon: Okay so idk where this came from but I’ve always seen Marlene as Latina? Like always. Her fc has jumped around for me but has recently landed, hard, on Ana De Armas

Dorcas Meadows: Ashley Blaine Fearherson!!! Dorcas is cannonly black which I fucking love because she was so bad ass that Voldemort’s bitch ass had to go take her out himself. A queen. She’s always been a fave of mine

Alice Longbottom: Florence Pugh! She didn’t make much of an appearance in this particular one shot but I love her!

Frank Longbottom: So I know Nevilles like really white in the movies, but I’ve never been able to get over Diego Luna as Frank. Sweet sunshine man.

#Sirius Black #sirius black x plus size reader #sirius black x reader #harry potter #ben barnes #ben barnes x plus size reader #Sirius black x plus sized reader #billy russo #billy russo x plus sized reader #Jilly #james and lily #james potter #lily evans #marauders #wolfstar

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suffering-and-happy-about-it · 4 years

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Gasoline (Favored Ones, Part 20.)

Series description: Many things were surely fucked up in the year 2038, but no-one ever told anyone how all of it went down. What happened before a group of people left for Seattle to handle personal matters? Why did one girl refuse to leave all of it be? And why there were so many dead in the end?

Quote for the chapter: “And I heard, as it were, the noise of thunder. One of the four beasts saying, 'Come and see.' and I saw, and behold a white horse.” - Johnny Cash

Part summary: When you arrived to Seattle, it was becoming more and more apparent that the things won’t go as planned at all. Especially when you had Tommy slipping between your fingers.

A/N: So, we’re slowly getting to the more important stuff. How you guys feel about it?

Warnings: Mentions of blood, torture, killing, infected, mentions of WLF, angst, arguments, cuss words.

Word count: 6.7K

Tagging: @nemodoren @xxgoldenhour @missdictatorme @peakymarvels @davnwillcome @pickleriiick @jodiereedus22 @gladiosamicitias @tamkashi @eternallyvenus @avengerssstuff @fangirl-inthe-us @avery-miller @mikah-writes @mad-hatter-98 @sadiaafrin99 @flavorishy @mr-robot-x

Series master list: H E R E

Joel Miller’s playlist for the bonfire occasions: H E R E

Youtube playlists: JACKSON DAYS | SEATTLE DAYS

Seattle, day first - morning:

The journey to Seattle wasn't as long as you expected it to be. It was barely two days on horseback - if you wouldn't get lost so much. Ellie proclaimed herself the leader of your group and well, it was what it was, he sense for orientation was bat shit bad. You've spent five days in total on the road - and given that you had to hunt and prepare some safe sleeping places, you were quite quick for a group of four people. Hunting was usually Joel and Ellie's thing - he was good with the bow, which you knew perfectly and Ellie learned how to hunt during a winter when she was with Joel.

Joel was a man of many secrets and some wild past, you've known that, but you thought that maybe, Joel just taught the girl how to hunt. Neither of them told you otherwise - that Joel was in pain, high fever with his hip drilled through with iron support protruding out of the ground. You didn't know many things, in fact - you still didn't have an idea that Ellie is immune to the Cordyceps fungus. Sure, you knew all about the chemical burn, tattoo, and once, when she was drunk, she told you about how Joel had to lead her to the Fireflies through half of the United States. Why? She didn't tell you. She just mentioned she was supposed to die there because of some vaccine - you didn't know for what. Sure, logically, you knew that shes talking about the fungus infection, but you never thought about it that much.

You've never asked her. Maybe it was some different decease? Maybe not? But you've never asked her about fungus and infected.

Anyway, while Joel and Ellie set on an evening hunt every day once you found a good spot, you and Dina made sure to check the spot for supplies, to secure the place, take care of the horses and to prepare the sleeping area. Against your wildest expectations, it was quite nice to have them around. You meant such close people whom you saw as members of your family. The old man and Ellie got along pretty well in the end - as far as it came to work and surviving, Joel and Ellie were an excellent team. While these two were the main characters of your group, you and Dina tended to stay put and to follow instructions these two gave you. Sure, you two were enough of a pain in the asses and characters as well, but there wasn't any need for you to express so far.

Nighttime patrols were sure a necessity - so you made pairs. Usually, you had the first patrol with Ellie to check on the surroundings, on which you played card games, and told each other dumb jokes, and Joel with Dina took your place shortly after midnight. So far, it didn't even seem like a revenge trip - it was more of a family-only secluded trip. But as soon as you saw the first cars on 99 leading in the direction of Seattle, you realized how close to the city you were.

What if the WLFs won't be there anymore? What if you'd come late? What if they will be there and you'll find them? How could you be sure that you'll find every person who was at the Baldwin mansion? How long will it take? And how high was the probability of all of you surviving? With a sigh, you tightened your arms around Joel's waist gently, leaning your cheek to his back as you watched the woods and wildlife around you.

"You good?" - Joel asked, quickly glancing at you over the shoulder. You picked your head up, looking at the highway in front of you.

"Yea, I'm fine. I'm just a bit tired, I guess. Hadn't slept much last night." - And it was true - you couldn't fall asleep properly because of the storm raging outside. Bolts of lightning were flashing behind the windows, thunders were shaking the ground and even if you were safe inside the sleeping bag, laying just a few meters from the fireplace, you couldn't fall asleep for shit. Dina, on the other hand, slept on the other side like a newborn baby with a small grin on her face.

"Some nightmares? Your leg? What's goin' on?" - Joel asked and you caught Joel's side tightly when Sadie jumped off of a small edge. While you had this serious conversation, Dina and Ellie were grinning and snickering as they rode at least ten meters in front of you. You grinned at Joel's caring mood, shaking your head after a small moment. - "Hey, you can tell me, you know that, rite?" - The man asked you after a moment of silence.

Sure, you could tell him that the proximity of the city is what is making you nervous, but all you'd get back is a question 'Are you sure that you wanna do this, baby girl?'. And with that, you didn't want to be bothered with. You could describe him the wild dreams you were having about Abby and the other WLFs and how much it was intensifying in the last few days as Seattle got closer. But Tommy was out there. Sure, Joel would agree to turn Sadie back to Jackson, but... His brother was in Washington city. Somewhere out there, alone and possibly dead or taken captive. Joel would go back for you, but you'd tear him apart if you'd make him choose between you and Tommy. At this moment, it was less complicated, because you wanted to find and save Tommy.

"Maybe I would sleep better if you'd come and cuddle me tonight, just a bit, huh?" - You grinned, running your tongue along your lips as you straightened, putting your chin on his shoulder as you watched the profile of his face while Joel kept his eyes on the road. But he let the rein go with one palm to smooth your thigh. And you'd be lying if you'd be telling that your sensitive spot didn't throb at that bit of human contact.

"That's exactly why we don't have patrols together, baby girl." - The man said and put his hand back on Sadie's rein, making her fasten up a bit. At that, you scoffed, mumbling a quiet 'funny'.

"Hey, let's turn to the woods here. Seems like a road and we'll see when it takes us, what do you say?" - Ellie cried in your direction suddenly. The man turned your horse to follow Shimmer and the girls. Both horses needed some rest as soon as possible - the road was long and tricky at times, plus they had to carry two people and their stuff on their back, so the poor animals were tired enough already. The whole group hoped that as soon as you'll ride into the town, there won't be such big need to use the horseback - and you'd be extremely lucky, you'd find some refuge to hide at, where you could make the animals rest a bit as well.

Yet instead of the city, everything you've been greeted with when you arrived in front of the entering Seattle, was a long wide wall with white graffiti on it, saying 'WLF - trespassers killed on sight'. Well, that was great. Joel stopped your horse next to Shimmer, looking at Ellie, who's eyes were already flying all over the place as she looked for a back door.

"Okay, okay. I see something. So, Joel, will you come with me? Y/N and Dina can search through the buildings here and take care of the horses while we figure it out." - The girl asked everyone. Dina opened up her mouth with a furrow, getting ready to oppose Ellie, so you spoke out before the girl. - "Great plan. You two take care of the passage, we'll look around." - You agreed with the girl, already jumping off Sadie's back. Slowly, you petted her neck and took the reins from Joel, watching the man getting down as well.

"You two be careful." - Dina sighed, smoothing Ellie's shoulder before taking Shimmer away as well. You did exactly what you told them you'll be doing. Neither of you could see the man or Ellie, but you still could hear them bickering, so you knew they're alright. Dina seemed to be the ideal person for you to confess about your fears. Joel would turn the house around in instant, Ellie would rant about the whole revenge thing. - "Spill the tea, honey. I know something's bothering you ever since you got up." - The girl asked you as she went through some unlocked wardrobes, taking a look at old work overalls.

"This will sound weird," - "Babe, you've already told me a shit ton of weird stuff and now, when I would be worried about you if you wouldn't be scared, ou think you're too weird?" - The girl answered as you went through some old WLF documents scattered around the tables.

"The closer to Abby we get, the more my heart wants to see Abby suffer, I can't sleep, all I think about is her. I want her to hurt the way I did. But my head... I think this is all a bad idea." - A whisper left you as you watched Ellie climb on the upper side of the gate, Joel being under her to catch her is shed be falling. They were still bickering and yelling stuff at one another, so you knew they're just fine.

"Do you want to kill all of them, or..." - Dina whispered, turning her face at you. But to your surprise, you shook your head almost immediately. You didn't want to kill anyone. Sure, your own goal was to find Abby, clip her wings, and to do her the same shit she has done to you, make her realize that you'll kill her if she comes for Joel... But you didn't want to kill her. What would be the purpose of that? You could make her realize that she should stay the fuck away from Jackson without having her blood on your hands. Unfortunately, Tommy was apparently on the other side of the spectrum. And Ellie was too. Yet Dina seemed to be getting uncomfortable with the topic. - "Y/N... Listen. I know you were a Firefly earlier and that they haven't sent you out, I know you killed only infected... But behind this gate, some bad people won't spare a single second with thinking about shooting at you. I don't want to be an asshole and even if your willingness to spare Abby's life is admirable, but if things go to shit... And they will go to shit... You will have to kill someone."

Dina slowly walked to you, licked her lips as her palms gently smoothed your shoulders. Honestly, killing someone wasn't the first thing that came to your mind when Ellie said We are going to Seattle. It made sense - Seattle was most likely inhabited by various groups and clans, cannibals, and hunters. All you could see was Owen, the woman, and her friends. Those were the people you wanted to see suffer, not killed, but suffering for sure. Yet the reality found its way to you rather quickly as the realization came suddenly.

Given how you reacted to the first kill, could you overcome the feeling of being sick of yourself? In the exact moment when you watched the arrow driving through the man's neck, you thought of yourself as of something else. Not someone, but something. You were disgusting, you weren't a human being if you could consciously kill another man, right? But Seattle was full of worse people than the group you've met near Jackson in summer.

"Listen, I know it's making you feel bad, but... Once you'll get into the adrenaline rush and when you realize that it's either you or them, you'll be fighting for your life as a true survivor. I am sure of it. They should be terrified of you." - The girl hugged you and closed her eyes for a moment, and after that, you left to search the other building. It didn't take you a long time before finding a piece of paper full of codes. - "Well, look at this beauty. You think it can help us?" - You asked Dina, showing her the paper - and just at the moment, you heard Ellie yelling something about code from the other side. As you yelled some numbers back at her, Joel and Dina got the horses ready, making sure you'll get them on the other side too. It was just a small moment when the gate got opened and you had run for it because the gate almost pinched you in.

"That was quite something. Everyone alright?" - Ellie asked, getting Dina a quick hug. It was weirdly terrifying watching you almost getting crushed by a gate. After checking on missing or hurt limbs, you continued your journey further into the city - and it didn't take too long before you stopped in front of another gate. Ellie got to the work immediately - you had the codes, you had a generator... Which didn't have fuel inside - the tank was emptied clean.

"Hey, guys?" - You asked and walked to a tear in the wall, leading into a big plain of green grass, collapsed buildings, and highways. Dina looked at a cupola in the distance, widening her eyes in realization. She pulled out a piece of paper, making you look at it. The paper was talking about some big operation WLFs got going on, about a name named Isaac and... Gas inside a courthouse and some dome. And the dome you were looking at at the moment. And... Then Dina pulled out a map you didn't even know she took somewhere in the process.

"What do you have here, girls?" - Joel asked and stepped next to you - Ellie was still thinking about the empty tank while you two were whispering something, trying to estimate the proximity of the things you were seeing to figure out on which street the dome was located on. And so far, you'd say you and Dina had some good estimations. - "I think we just found ourselves some gas..." - Dina snickered victoriously, waving the map in the air. - "But just from looking at the place, there's a lot of locations to scavage through, I would say." - You whispered, looking at the sights around you. There was a building which looked like... Some fancy one, a few stores, and a big truck in the water which caught your interest. - "We better split now to cover the area quicker."

Everyone gathered around you - and it was officially the first time since the trip started you got to plan something out. - "There's written we are searching for... Serevina Base, which should be... The hotel over there, right?" - You asked them, pointing the pen in its direction to ensure yourself. Ellie nodded quickly. - "But the generator is out, so we need to look for gas. Which should be in the Fedra thing just across the plain," - You pointed your hand in the direction. - "Or inside the dome there. Let's say that each group will take one of the spots and look around them. We'll let our horses out on plain sight in case one of us would get lost. If you do, search for the animal. When we'll be done, well gather around here and see what we'll have, and thing of a different plan. And if we wouldn't get back around dusk, the other group goes to look for them. Huh. Look at me planning." - You grinned at Dina, who just nodded. This was quite impressive - Ellie didn't understand half of what you've said, but Dina and Joel did.

"The game plan will be as follows - Ellie and I will look around the dome, you guys will go for the Fedra base and to the left side of the perimeter, 'kay? If anything goes bad or worse than that, leave the place be and run away. If everything goes well, we should meet halfway in the plain. I'll bring the map with me and we'll mark every usable place we can scavage later, okay?" - You asked everyone in the end, having the whole group nodding. Suddenly, you understood why Jesse was always giving you these speeches before you rode on a patrol. It felt good to hype the whole group up.

Just when you were getting Joel's stuff out of Sadie's saddleback, the man approached you. - "You should do this more often, girl. You're a natural." - He smiled gently, catching your palm in his to hold it for a small while. And you just stood next to him and moved your thumb on his. - "Be safe out there, 'kay?" - Joel asked you, leaning his forehead to yours, closing his eyes for a small moment. - "Make sure Dina won't get hurt and come back." - A whisper left your lips before you pecked his lips, giving him the revolver ammo you were searching for. After that, you hopped on Sadie's back, offering your hand to Ellie. As expected, she hopped on behind you and caught your waist, jolting around before she found the right spot to sit at.

"Is your ass settled, princess?" - A tease came out of you as you jumped to the grass, riding in the direction of the dome. The girl only chuckled, looking around after that.

"It's nice out here, I have to say." - Ellie admitted after a second of watching the wind playing with the grass. You could see a few hinds in the back with a big, strong deer and birds flying above your head. If something, Seattle looked spectacular in the sunlight, especially when the sky was almost cloudless.

"It's something different than Salt Lake and Jackson. Nice change of view." - You agreed, having Ellie humming at your response. Oh, shit, there you go - Ellie sure as her way about to ask some weird fucking questions and you didn't know if you're ready for any of them. - "He's too old for this shit, you know that?" - The girl sighed and leaned her chin into your shoulder.

Of course, you did realize that. Joel wasn't the youngest, that was the way things were. You didn't know what lays in front of you, what to expect of what's going to happen in Seattle. What if you'd have to run for your life? What if you'll have to walk steep hills on foot? Jumping from building to building? Jesus, you stopped your train of thoughts, what am I thinking about? Joel Miller had probably better physical conditions than you, except for some scars and sometimes jolting knees. You kinda forgot about how dangerous can he be since you've started seeing each other - but now, you hoped that all the stories Tommy and Ellie told you were true. He could suffocate a man with his forearm even in his early fifties and that was a thing you shouldn't forget at any time.

"I've never met any guy that would be at least half the tough as Joel is. I mean, maybe not even Tommy matches Joel's level and he had some wild stuff, I tell you that. I'll take care of the old-timer, I swear." - There was this unsettling quiet moment you and Ellie shared when you just trotted towards the building. The city was empty, almost wiped clean. Which was unsettling a bit. You'd expect way more cars in the downtown, maybe some signs of residency, anything... But it looked empty.

"I know... But it still weirds me the fuck out, dude. I won't be pretending I'm okay with this." - Ellie spoke out of the blue, making you freak out a bit. You were riding in the street leading between high glass-concrete buildings, so the only things you could hear were the wind howling and Sadie's stomping. Ellie straightened for a second, laughing at your reaction. - "Jesus, sorry for that."

"You think I'm okay with you and Dina? I mean, no offense, but I'm used to seeing her with Jesse. You two hit it off so suddenly, like, dude, I know you liked her for the longest time possible, but..." - "I see what you're talking about. I guess we'll just agree that were both a bit grossed out, but we're happy that the other one's happy, deal?" - Ellie asked when you turned right and rode in front of the tall dome - and to your surprise, it was a court.

"I think that makes the case rested." - You turned your head to Ellie with one of your eyebrows arched - but the girl didn't get the joke at all. So you threw your hand in the court's direction, having her gasp for air in realization. - "That was a poor one, babe." - Ellie snorted. Both of you jumped off Sadie's back, tying her rein to a nearby lamp to make sure she's visible if Dina and Joel were trying to find you. As a treat, you gave the animal an apple you've carried with you since Jackson and petted her nose before walking back to Ellie. - "And you fucking love the poor jokes I make, angel, so keep the whines to yourself." - "So you don't want to hear any of them?" - The redhaired girl teased you back and you laughed out loud, saying something similar to 'you're fucking gross'.

As you approached the building, you both started to get more and more serious. - "The place is probably filled with infected." - You said what you both had on your mind. Ellie spared you a quick look and tried to open up the door for you, but it was barricaded from the inside. - "Hey, ma'am, don't be scared. We're going to slay it, as we always do." - Your best friend chanted with a total dingus. After that, she slammed the door with her shoulder for the second time, massaging the shoulder afterward. - "We'll have to circle the building, see if there's any other way to get in. I mean, these fuckers got in, we can get in." - Ellie offered you a high-five and you did accept it.

You did find another entrance to the building, through an old window that could be opened up. At that moment, you weren't even nervous. It was a known fact that you and Ellie go on that patrols together because of various reasons - one being you couldn't shoot from a gun and a second one being Ellie clumsy with Clickers.

"See a few of 'em." - Ellie whispered to the vile silence. It wasn't exactly silence - it was inhuman silence filled with cries and clicking of the infected in the building. The good news were that you didn't hear low grunting of a Bloater or a Shambler, so this was a two-man job with which you could get over with pretty quick. - "You wanna do Clickers or Runners first? We have a plan B?" - She asked. You nodded, pointing at a plastic bomb in the pocket of you back. Slowly, you slid the knife out, listening to the sounds of clicking getting closer, and closer to you.

"There's our number one." - You grinned at Ellie and moved around the place. Safety first - Ellie loaded her gun and you did your best not to make too much sound. Clickers had a hearing three times better than a human, true, but it applied only if they were clicking in your direction - and as soon as you were hidden behind something, they knew shit - which resulted in the bitch laying on the ground in the next moment as you felt its blood soaking through your pants. You stopped for a second and watched a crying runner standing just feet from you. As soon as Ellie made sure it didn't see you, she jumped on its back and pushed her dagger into its throat.

Slowly, you maneuvred through the rooms, searching for supplies in the process, killing every infected on sight. True trouble started when you found yourself in the entering hall which had around four infected there. Ellie made sure that her gun is loaded and palmed a brick while you kneeled, slowly taking a bomb and a lighter out of your pocket. For a moment, you watched each other before Ellie threw the brick onto a nearby wall, distracting the infected with inspecting the sound. When you lit up the fuse, you counted to four and threw the bomb in there as well, turning away from the massacre.

When you looked on the spot after the great boom, the walls were burned and painted with blood and parts of the bodies. - "Yuck." - You grunted, looking at Ellie who was waiting if there won't be another infected in the area. But it was looking clear. - "Your bombs never stop to make mesmerized. She offered you another high-five and you accepted.

You, my friend, were looking disgusting. You've come from the patrols in a worse state, sure, but you always grinned when you saw blood on your jeans. How comes that someone like Joel or Tommy rarely got dirty? The must've been using some fucking magic. Your best friend didn't care about her appearance at all, she was looking around. - "Can't see any gas here, but the elevator shaft looks promising." - Ellie sighed and smoothed her cheek with the back of her hand, accidentally rubbing blood all over her damn face. At that, you let a sighed and motioned for her to go first.

"Looks alright down here, come... Oh, fuck!" - The girl cried out and you could hear first gunshots. Seriously, you had never got anywhere as quickly as at that moment. Without waiting around, you took the knife out, getting a runner off of Ellie. When that was over, you got out your gun which you rarely used, loaded it, and tried to hit at least something around you. It was a miracle you both got out of it alive, but the adrenaline rush made you look around with fear. You were still triggering the gun to fire, but the magazine was already empty. Which made Ellie giggle as she leaned her palms to her thighs while watching you.

"Good job, we're clear." - Ellie grinned, making you finally pull the trigger down. You kneeled as well, taking in a deep breath as you started to laugh too. This was a close call and the adrenaline inside your veins hit its all-time top, so as your brain relaxed, you were laughing like crazy. - "I thought you didn't know how to use a damn gun." - Ellie wondered and helped you on your feet.

"I never said I could use it either." - You bickered back, looking around. It was an old garage under the court, the whole place was dark and hard to orientate in, so you both lit up your flashes.

"This was fucking badass, babe. You'll be better than all of us one day... And... Look at this beauty." - The girl put her palms on her hips, smiling at the sight of a gas tank. There was a small red barrel for it too, which was just perfect.

"Go on, give it a whirl. I would prefer to leave this fucking place." - A sight left you as you put the gun back into the holder, making sure it's secured there. With a childish grin, Ellie picked up the small barrel and put it under the pipe, turned the lever, and... - "It's fucking empty." - She sighed, cursing under her breath. Well, that was a bummer.

"Let's hope that Joel and Dina find some. Come on, we can at least scavage a few stores on the way back." - You smiled at the girl, patting her shoulder. As you said, so you did. And you were quite okay with what you've found - enough stuff to make some more bombs, Molotoves, two cards which Ellie was collecting, ammo and some food. Those were good finds.

A few hours later, you met up with Joel and Dina again to share the finds and the intel. To your luck, Dina managed to find some gas in something called a synagogue while the old man securing the perimeter - and they also found a nearby used fireplace possibly used by Tommy. And they found some food and stuff as well. With the fuel, the generator was running in no time and you continued your journey to the Serevina base. You were moving forward slowly and with hesitations, having your eyes opened all the time in search of the WLFs. But the place was just full of supplies, dead bodies, and infected. And as you progressed thought the building, you only found more of these. Until you bumped into that room.

When Dina saw it, she covered her mouth and ran into the corridor to vomit, you stood there in shock, Ellie widened her eyes - just Joel kept his cool as he walked around the crime scene. There were two dead people, both tied up, one of them laid on the ground in gallons of blood, and the other one was tied to a chair on wheels. Whoever did this to them, he had to have a strong stomach and a strong hatred in him.

"Shit." - Dina muffled when she walked back into the room, cleaning her lips and mouth up with the back of her palm. - "The fuck happened here?" - She asked the same question you had on your mind. Ellie and Joel exchanged knowing looks before splitting to look at both the bodies.

"Tommy did this." - The redhead muttered and touched the face of the wheelchair man. Dina shook her head, walking closer to the body to look at it as well. - "This? No way." - The girl insisted. The man was crouching above the other body, watching it with his dark eyes. Ellie took in a small breath. Both the girls spared you a look as you walked forward. You did the same thing as Ellie - your thumb and index finger circled around the swollen jaw covered in old blood as you looked at the contours of his face, taking in every small detail your eyes were able to recognize. After a moment, you let his face go, looking away from everyone. A scoff you let out made Joel turn at you. He knew damn well this was his baby brother's handwork.

"It was definitely him." - You nodded to yourself, putting a hand in front of your lips. - "This is one of the ones that were in Baldwin when it happened." - You nodded, looking back at the people around you.

"And this one, kiddo?" - A raspy question made you aware that Joel is standing just a foot away from you, pointing at the body laid down in the blood. Slowly, you walked to the man, even crouching to take in his face. But soon, you just shook your head. - "I don't recognize him. What the fuck was Tommy doing here?" - You asked the man. But Ellie was the first one to speak.

"He was using them against each other." - "How?" - Dina asked and looked at the bodies once more. With that, Ellie looked at the man who was now smoothing your back, ready to explain every small detail to you and her girlfriend. She pointed her palm at the body which was laid down. - "Joel told me about this. You ask this guy a question, but you don't make him say it, you make him write it down. Then you ask the other guy. And if the facts match, they're telling the truth. And if not..." - "You fuck 'em up." - Dina finished and Ellie hummed quietly.

Joel knew this method? This gruesome, brutal method? Was he using it on someone? As the man felt your shoulders tense up, he looked at the emotionless expression in your face and he stepped aside immediately, letting him have your own space. Jesus, how much you didn't know about him? Sure, he was a smuggler and he fucked up a few people here and there, what you've heard from Ellie's stories - but until that point, you thought he done it for the sake of her well-being. Guess what. You were wrong.

There was this strange, vile persona inside of Joel the whole time he was by your side - and even though you knew that, it took you by a surprise. How much he had done? How much pain did he cause? What other methods of brutal torturing did Joel know? And the worst thing you realized was that once you'll leave Seattle - you be the same as him. Your stomach was slowly turning upside down.

"This just happened, guys. He can't be far off. Come on." - Dina tried to cheer everyone up, yet it was met with a wall of blank stares. She nodded, again, and everyone got out of the room. You were completely lost in your thoughts as the others were doing the job - Joel's palm in front of your face woke you up from the trance and you hopped behind him. And he knew something's off when you didn't catch his waist.

"Girls, wait for us back there, alrite?" - Joel called out. With that, both of them nodded. Ellie and Dina were shaken as well, but you were looking lifeless, confused, and disgusted. The man breathed out and lowered his head, waiting for you to say something. A word. A cuss. Anything.

"You ain't good, don't tell me you are." - The man warned you just when you were about to ask him why you're not riding forward. - "It's disgusting and I know that, 'kay? But... I swear you don't have to be afraid of me." - Joel whispered, but truth be told, he was too afraid to look at you. At that remark, you scoffed ironically.

"Is this what you call 'I was struggling with surviving for a long time'? Listen, I knew you killed people before, I knew you stole shit from them, smuggled things for the Fireflies and survived a lot of stuff... But... Joel..." - You hopped off the horse again, walking around to somehow gather the shit together before speaking. Your lungs were begging for breath as it got shallow. Ellie watched you with worries in her face, but Dina made the girl turn away. - "It must've been hard for you. And I get it. But this shit? You were doing this... This fuckery to other people?" - You pointed back to Serevina. The man took in a deep breath. He was nervous as fuck - you could tell because his eyes were lingering all around except your face as his fingers played with Sadie's rein. When he was about to say your name to calm you down, you widened your eyes to stop him.

"No. You answer this question. Did you do things like that to other people?" - You asked again, still pointing to the hotel. Slowly, the man gulped and nodded. An unbelievable laugh left your throat. - "Did you do worse than this?" - And again, the man had nodded. Joel started to move his tongue inside his mouth uncomfortably, which made you aware of what he was going through inside. - "And did you ever, at least once, planned on telling me what you've done to others?" - With that, only the hollowing of the wind could be heard. After a moment, the answer was clear. Joel didn't even think of telling you.

Honestly, why should he? He told you he had done some terrible things in the past and you told him you'll not leave his side nonetheless. You told him you didn't care about that. But obviously, as soon as you saw first hints of Joel's true persona, you were starting to back off. Should Joel be wondering why? No. Not at all. It was understandable. But it was still hurting him.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Joel. This is some heavy stuff I should've at least had a hint about, don't you think?" - You asked, running your tongue on your lips.

"I told you what I am. You didn't listen to it if you ask me, girl." - Joel got off the horse too to remind you who was the man of the situation. He was also trying to make you back off with his hight and his eyes... These were as dark as an iron-colored sky.

"Am I the one who fucked up people to shreds? Who beaten them until they lost consciousness? Do I look like someone who killed another human person for the sake of business? Huh?" - You answered. Just when the man inhaled loudly, Dina jumped between you, pushing herself in between.

"I know... That this is a private matter of trust... But... Can you leave it for once we find some refuge? You can argue all you want there. Let's just... Go now." - She asked both of you. It took you a moment to calm down enough to hop on Sadie behind Joel, but you didn't catch his waist nonetheless. As you were thinking about what just happened, a loud bang sounded through the street.

You barely knew what was happening - in the pressure, you caught Joel's waist as he lost control over the horse. You couldn't hear anything and you screamed as Sadie ran into a shop window, breaking it apart. The horse was dead in the next minute, throwing you both on the ground under it. It was hard to realize what happened as you felt the warm blood under you as you fainted.

The road just blew up.

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3starsquinn · 4 years

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Out of the Blue || Ariana, Athena & Orion

Timing: Last night, following this chatzy

Parties: @letsbenditlikebennett, @athenaquinn & @3starsquinn

Summary: Rio comes to visit Athena in the hospital following their encounter with Lydia.

Content: Mentions of Abuse

Orion hated hospitals. Apparently, that sentiment lasted beyond his father’s death. As it turned out, the mood was not any less depressing or the setting any less melancholy as it had been when his father worked the halls of this place. Being in the hospital reminded him of his childhood, quietly following his family down these same halls and faking a smile for the staff that spoke about him instead of to him directly. Even now he remembered exactly how it felt, because he felt the same way again. His chest was tight, anxiety skyrocketing and his heart beating so rapidly that it threatened to punch a hole through him. But even as every instinct fought against him, Rio forced himself into an elevator up to the floor the front desk had specified. He owed an apology to his sister, something he never planned on doing. Then again, he had never pictured himself breaking her arm either. He had been such an idiot, blindly promising something to a woman he had barely known. There had been no way to know that she had been as monstrous as she had turned out, but knowing that did nothing to alleviate the guilt. He didn’t know how to even begin apologizing to people. To Athena and Luce for hurting them. To Winston for forcing them to make such a hard decision. To Ariana for unknowingly helping the woman who killed her friend. To Kaden for ever holding any doubts about him. He had screwed everything up, made everyone worry and all in some idiotic attempt to protect a serial killer masquerading as a Fae afraid of hunters. Some genius Rio turned out to be.

Orion checked in with the nurses station, asking them to point out Athena’s room. He was biding his time, hands in pocket and staring at the ground as he dragged himself across the tiles and towards the door, but he stopped himself when he heard voices. Two very familiar voices. He debated moving any closer, but began shaking his head. Nope. I can do this another time. He spun around, heading away from the room and back towards the elevators when a nurse swooped in to stop him, “Wrong way, sweetie. Her room’s right over here. I’ll show you.” She grabbed onto his shoulder gently and guided him back around and down the hall. He was too awkward to try to stop her. Instead he just smiled and blushed, staying silent as she eased him forward down the hall and into the doorway. On arrival, Rio was immediately greeted by not only Athena, but Ariana. Both were staring at him from the comfort of her way too small hospital bed. He mumbled a thanks to the nurse, at least hoping to spare her of the awkwardness that Rio was ready to endure. “Oh uh. Hey you two. How’s it going?” Dumb question.

She’d been doing her best to just focus on Ariana, to block out the rest of the world around them. Even though things had grown calmer since Ariana had arrived, she still couldn’t help but still occasionally seize up in a moment of panic. Athena buried her face into Ariana’s shoulder, doing her best to keep her arm upright. She’d be allowed to go home soon, she had heard. She knew that, because broken arms didn’t mean long hospital stays and she was old enough that they didn’t ask too many questions about any of what had happened. Saying that she’d had a bad fall did the job well enough, and having many of the staff know her family made it so that they didn’t push too far. She just hoped that her brother was okay, wherever he was. He’d been in so much distress back with Lydia and everything.

Except, apparently, she didn’t have to think much longer because she heard a noise at the doorway and looked up, still laying against Ariana. “I - Ri.” She blinked a few times. “Hi.” Athena bit her lip. “You can - we’re - I - better?” She sighed. “You can come in.” She didn’t move from her position against Ariana, her eyes falling shut for a moment before reopening. “There’s a chair, and there’s Jello, if you want. Too sweet for us - but if you need something.” She gave a small nod. “Plus side, at least my cast is cute? I’m glad to see you too. Really.” She looked straight at her brother. “They didn’t send you to the hospital, did they?”

Normally, it was hard to surprise Ariana. It was one of the many benefits of having a heightened sense of hearing and smell. Given everything, the only sound she found herself focusing on was the soft thumps Athena’s heart made as they laid there in the small hospital bed. It just barely kept her grounded though she could still see the events at Lydia’s home playing over and over in her mind. The way Kelly and Chloe screamed as Todd fell to the ground. How much blood had poured from him. How it still seemed to linger in her nose the same way Sammy’s had. A familiar voice finally brought her out of her head. She blinked slowly and looked up at Rio. “Hey,” she said quietly, still nestled into Athena. Thankfully, she seemed to have the whole greeting thing down and was offering him Jello. “It’s good to see you, Rio.” And it was. She knew he had to be struggling right now. She knew how difficult it was to have someone use your words to make you hurt people you cared for. Somehow, anger was still able to surface in here, but she took and deep breath and asked, “You doing okay?”

Orion was absolutely not doing okay. But everything considered, he didn’t exactly have the right to tell them otherwise. How did he even begin to describe how he was feeling? Guilty for being part of what had happened? Weak for falling under her guise in the first place? Disgust that she had been killed right in front of him, by people that he cared about? For all the emotions that he felt, none of them could measure up to Athena and Ariana’s pain. Besides, he needed to try to stay positive. “Uh yeah, I’m fine. No hospital for me.” Rio grabbed at the burn in his side where Winston had tased him. The thing still stung, but the pain wouldn’t last much longer. The scar might stick around for awhile though, the voltage would have been pretty high if it was strong enough to knock out a hunter. “Are you both okay?” He hadn’t exactly figured out yet how to word his apology to Athena. Maybe she didn’t blame him, but that did nothing to make him feel any better about everything. It didn’t change the look in her eyes or the sound of her bones snapping. The thought itself made Rio’s stomach flip. “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything. I can come back later.” Or never, that worked too.

“Good. I - it’s always good to not have to go - I mean, hospitals help, but I’m glad you didn’t have to go.” Athena bit her lip. She watched him hold onto his side, and she wanted to ask him if she could check it out, make sure he actually was okay and wasn’t just faking it, which she knew he was prone to doing, sometimes. They both were. “I’m fine,” she looked over to Ariana, “we’re fine.” Relatively, at least. “I mean - you know, could be better, but…” She pushed herself up using her free hand, though still did her best to stay as close to Ariana as was possible. “No, you can stay. Please. I’d like you to stay.” She did - she knew that something had to be at least a bit up if her brother was willing to come to the hospital and if he felt the need to track her down. She used her good hand to gesture at him to come and sit down. “Stay.” Her voice was more clear now. “You’re not interrupting anything. Saves me a FaceTime call at least, right?” She let a ghost of a smile cross her lips.

“Yes, it’s better you’re not hurt enough to need hospital care,” Ariana agreed. It was apparent that there was some tension between both of them. Their relationship had barely been on the mend before all of this happened which she supposed left things in a delicate state now. She gave Athena’s good arm a gentle squeeze before she shifted. She didn’t want to take away from the conversation they likely needed to have. More than anything, she wanted to see Rio and Athena get back to a good place. They both deserved as much after everything they’d been through. With a small nod, she said, “We’re okay.” Physically speaking, she was anyway. She hadn’t been hurt. She looked to Rio earnestly, “Please, stay.” She looked between the twins and felt this gnawing need to leave the room. Let them talk this whole thing through. “I could really go for some coffee and I’m sure you two have a lot to talk about. Would you like me to grab some for you? I think they have hot chocolate, too.” The last part was more for Rio. If she remembered from mornings spent at his home alongside Winston and Ricky, he’d never gone for the coffee.

Either they were both lying, or Ariana and Athena had better coping techniques than Orion had. Because he was certainly not okay. But for the sake of his own sanity as well as those around him, he needed to at least pretend to be. It was better than completely falling apart. “I’ll take a hot chocolate. Please.” Rio was self aware enough to know that Ariana was leaving more for his and Athena’s benefit rather than an actual desire to get coffee. But for how much he wanted to argue against her being the one to go and hightail it out of the hospital himself, he didn’t think either of them would let him. Ariana seemed pretty passionate about reconnecting the Quinn twins. And Athena had always cared more about their connection than Rio himself had. Before, Rio had good reason to steer clear. He wasn’t so clear anymore. Even after Ariana slipped from the bed and left the room, Rio didn’t move from the wall on the opposite side of the room. “I’m so sorry. About your arm and Lydia and.. well everything that happened yesterday I guess. I didn’t know.”

“You can get me a coffee if you’d like.” Athena looked over to Ariana. “With milk? Not too much sugar - I mean - you know what I like.” She sighed for a moment, focusing back on her brother. “You’ll come back soon?” She fiddled with the edge of her shirt, watching Ariana before she focused back on her brother. Her free hand reached out to where Ariana had been just moments before, a sigh of relief (or perhaps resignation, she wasn’t sure) escaped her lips. “You - it’s fine. It’s fine.” She said, her voice slipping, for a moment, into the tone it had taken on when they were children. “I figure I kind of deserve this, given everything I ever did to you.” She looked at him, eyes practically pleading. “Please come, at least sit within two feet of me, okay? I’m sorry you - I’m - I’m just glad you’re alive.” She could feel tears prick the corner of her eyes then. You’re not supposed to cry.

Alone in the room with his sister, Orion began fiddling the belt loops of his jeans to distract himself. He didn’t want to make eye contact with his sister. He didn’t want to know what she was thinking. Surprising even him, Athena didn’t seem to care about her own arm at all. She had only seemed concerned about Rio. “This was completely different.” Rio shrugged, though in all actuality he wasn’t sure that it was. Was Athena simply manipulated by their parents the same way Rio was manipulated by Lydia? He knew it was different, but considering Rio’s injuries had never landed him in the hospital it barely seemed like the time to compare notes. With a sigh, he pushed off of the wall and practically tiptoed across the floor towards the bed. He still wouldn’t sit, but he found a spot leaning against the window instead. “I was never in any danger of dying. But I hurt the three of you.” Despite it all, he did truly believe Lydia had no intentions of hurting him. Not out of the kindness of her hurt of course, but because if she had ever come back to White Crest Rio could have been a useful pawn. He would have been forced to live with the knowledge that he helped a psychotic murderer. He still had to live with it now. In some ways, maybe that was worse. He could tell when Athena was starting to cry, though he hadn’t seen it for himself since they were little kids. “This is a stupid question but... she’s dead, yeah?”

“It’s not.” Athena shook her head. “It is - karma, or something? I don’t know. I’d say it was what I deserved,” she didn’t know exactly what to say. She hadn’t expected her brother to show up at the hospital, though she also wasn’t always sure what she was supposed to expect of him, now. He’d been manipulated by a fae and there was no universe in which she could blame him for that, though she was furious that he’d managed to get himself promise-bound despite her years of begging him to be careful. “You could have been. You don’t - she almost - I think she would have killed you if she stopped finding you useful.” She shook her head. She grabbed one of the too-rough tissues and pressed it against her cheek. “It’s not stupid, and yes. Very much so. I - I really relished in it, Ri - the way it felt, the power I felt. She deserved it - for what she did to you and what she did to Ariana.” She moved over on her bed. “I’m not so big, you can sit with me, yeah? Consider it a necessary apology if you really need something like that.”

Maybe Athena was right. Maybe it was some sort of karma, but it definitely wasn’t a payback that Orion derived any joy from. He didn’t know how to respond so he chose not to. Better not to fall too deeply into that rabbit hole right now. Athena was probably right that Lydia would have gotten rid of him eventually once he had worn out his use. Rio’s real concern was how much he would have been forced to do before that time came. “Yeah well, as it turns out I apparently have more use than we originally thought.” With another shrug, Rio stared out the window and focused on a flock of birds flying past. What alternate dimension had Rio fallen into where Athena was the injured one crying and Rio was standing around stoically? “Right.” Rio didn’t love Athena’s answer. She took too much pride in taking her life. Monster or not, someone had just been killed. For once, Rio wasn’t even arguing against it. He just didn’t like how much she seemed to enjoy it while it was happening. “Well I don’t love that answer. But.. . I’m glad she’s gone.” At the very least the two could agree on that. But it seemed like sharing a hospital bed was pushing his limits. The two had been through a lot together this month, but it didn’t erase that he had been ready to drop his family entirely. Rio wasn’t ready to let all bygones be bygones. “I don’t want to take Ari’s spot. She’ll be back soon.” He used as an excuse, then crossed his arms as if to stand firm in his statement.

“I’ve always known you had use.” Athena whispered. Didn’t want to delve too far into that particular analysis, because she knew that digging up those sorts of conversations might just result in an argument and she was currently far from feeling up to that. Not here, not now, not with her brother. Not with her brother who she’d almost not once but twice in just over the past month. She shrugged. “You did ask, and I’ve tried to be more honest with you, at least as much as possible.” Athena glanced over at the window, at the birds outside. Why couldn’t her own brother look her in the eyes? They’d talked to some degree since everything had happened on their birthday, but now - now he wasn’t able to look at her? She looked back, looked past him - finding that she didn’t know just how to look at him, either. “You wouldn’t - she - okay,” she finally settled on. “You sure you don’t want Jello? You look like you haven’t eaten in days.”

It was still surreal that Orion and Athena were having conversations like this at all, let alone in a hospital room after fighting one another. Even after it all, the craziest thing was that Rio had been able to get the jump on Athena at all. He supposed it would be easy for Athena to underestimate him though. All these years and Athena had never seen Rio properly fight back. “It’s not a judgement.” At least, he didn’t mean for it to be taken as one. For as much as the idea of enjoying someone’s murder made him want to scream, he couldn’t exactly argue that he was mourning Lydia’s death. “It’s me being uncomfortable with that stuff. I’m trying to be honest too.” For what it was worth, Athena didn’t fight him on the seating arrangement. Another in the long list of odd changes between their dynamic. Athena hadn’t always been that quick to give up when she wanted something. “I’m fine.” Rio shook his head. He always looked like this, though she was right that it had been awhile. He had been rushing to get Lydia to safety that he had barely eaten anything. And after Winston brought him home he felt too sick to eat. Even now, as his stomach felt empty it still protested the idea of eating. “I’m not that hungry.”

She couldn’t even imagine the last time she’d been in the hospital with her brother. If ever. Orion hadn’t ever liked it, even when Athena had begged her father to let her come with him, to walk around the floors and beg the staff for a clipboard that was too big for her six-year-old arms to hold. “Okay. I - I didn’t know.” Her lips were set into a firm line and she looked away from her brother again. She was grateful he’d come by to check on her, grateful he did still care. “I’m glad you are, really and truly. It’s something we’re both moving toward, I think.” She grabbed her cup of water, taking another small sip of it. She didn’t have the energy to fight her brother. Be it fatigue from everything that had just happened or from the twenty-one years of being forced in some part to be adversaries - eleven solid years of that, she figured - Athena didn’t know. She just knew that yelling wouldn’t do her any good with respect to changing things or getting Ri to listen. “Okay. I - I haven’t - okay. I get that.” She forced her lips into a sad sort of smile. “It’s weird being in the hospital on this end. Not a fan. People who - well, people know me here.” She paused. “Know us, I guess.”

Orion had come to apologize. He had already done that and yet he was still standing in here with Athena. He didn’t know what to do or what to say. The two had talked more in the last month than they had in the last year or two. Despite this, Rio realized that he still had no idea how to actually talk to his sister. Aside from their parents, a few friends and an awkward tendency to like the same people, Rio had nothing in common with Athena. He didn’t know what that meant for their relationship. All he knew was that Athena would - now more than ever - want to continue talking and building some actual semblance of a familial relationship. Rio needed to decide if that was actually an option he would entertain. For now, he remained undecided. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Now more than ever. I keep getting pity looks from people about dad.” He had ignored more than a few outreaches by people checking in on him following his parent’s death. Most of them had come from coworkers at the hospital that never saw him in person. He never figured he would have to face them if he avoided the White Crest hospital for the remainder of his life. A small silence settled over the two after that, both lost in their own worlds. “Ari’s on her way back, I think.” He spoke up once he heard someone moving down the hall. It was hard to pick out the specific sounds and scents of a person, but Rio was slowly getting back at it. The mixed smell of chocolate and coffee made Rio assume it was her on her way back to the room.

She couldn’t remember the last time that she and her brother had talked this much. Athena only knew that it hadn’t been in forever. Even though she’d tried to, it had always sort of fallen flat - and she knew that it was because of their parents, perhaps - or perhaps something else. She wasn’t sure, and a whole lot of things were spinning around now, and she didn’t have the energy to force it or fight anything. “I know. I know.” She repeated, only loud enough for him to hear - just a whisper, but she knew he’d pick up on it, with his good hearing and all. “Try being a future doctor and his child and currently in the hospital. I am just real glad they finally left me alone a bit.” She glanced down at her lap as Rio made a remark about Ariana. “Okay.” She pushed herself up with her free hand. “I - it’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.” She pursed her lips off to the side. They had to be. With everything they’d gone through in the last month-and-a-bit, they had to be. She wasn’t sure what she’d do if she actually lost him, after having nearly lost him far too many times already.

#wickedswriting #c: athena #c: ariana #chatzy #chatzy: athena #chatzy: ariana #out of the blue #abuse mention tw

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missmalice202 · 4 years

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Designing Your Melody: Chapter 18 - Vocals

Chapter 01 - Chapter 17

There were some situations that could only be put into perspective by venting to your best friend. Having a boy basically state his interest in you in a romantic capacity definitely qualified as one of those situations.

“Alya,” Marinette whined, looking at her best friend sitting on her couch. “What do I do?”

Ever since Luka’s confession two days ago, Marinette had been debating what her next move would be. She really really liked spending time with him, but she didn’t want to chance messing up the comfortable friendship they had developed.

“Girl, what do you want to do?” It was killing Alya to keep her mouth shut about Viperion’s true identity, but she agreed with Nino that this was something that their friend had to work out on her own. However, that didn’t mean that she couldn’t give her BFF a little nudge in the right direction. “What would you do if it were, say, Adrien confessing his love to you?”

She was appalled at that idea. “Adrien? Alya, you know I don’t like him like that anymore.” She shook her head in disgust. “No, even if Adrien were to tell me right now that he was in love with me and wanted to be with me, I’d tell him that we’d just have to stay friends”

“Okay, so it’s not the fact that someone likes you, it’s the fact that it’s Luka who likes you, correct?”

She stopped in her tracks and stared at her chestnut-haired friend. She hadn’t thought about it that way before. Maybe she wasn’t scared of being in a relationship, maybe she was scared of being in a relationship with Luka specifically. “Why does that scare me so much?” she asked anxiously.

“Girl, you’re scared because you’re already invested in your relationship with him.” She stood up and walked over to grab her friend’s hand, pulling her back to sit with her so she could focus on their conversation and not her pacing. “Even though you guys aren’t romantically involved yet and he said ‘no pressure’, you’re still worried that if you try to be with him and it doesn’t work out, it’ll destroy whatever it is you guys have now.”

“You’re right. It’s not worth it. I don’t want to lose him.”

Seeing the determination on her friend’s face, Alya realized that she needed to try a different tactic before Marinette sabotaged any sort of romantic involvement before it even began. “Let’s look at this from a different perspective. How would you react if it were Viperion saying that he wanted to be with you. Would you react any differently?”

She knew that she had to tread lightly. She didn’t want to reveal everything too soon. She was a little worried about using Marinette’s crush on her clanmate against her, but really, the girl was just so dense at times. Sometimes you just had to come right out and smack her across the face with something to make her acknowledge it.

“Viperion? What does he have anything to do with this?”

Alya growled, frustrated at her own decision to keep her mouth shut. “It’s a hypothetical question. Purely hypothetical. I asked, ‘what if’ to make you think about if you would behave differently.”

Marinette pondered that question for a few seconds. Would she react differently if it were Viperion? She did really like talking to their reptilian clanmate and she looked forward to playing with him whenever she got a chance to get online. Plus, he had an easygoing nature that made it really easy to open up to him. There were times that she wanted to ask him if they could meet up in real life, but she was comfortable with that degree of separation between them. Crossing that line would make him real, a flesh and blood person instead of a voice behind her screen.

If Viperion expressed an interest in meeting her and cultivating their friendship into something more, would she be so quick to shoot him down and play it safe?

“Honestly? I don’t know,” she admitted. “I don’t know the real Viperion, only what he shares with me online. Just like he doesn’t know the real me. We only know what we tell each other.”

Alya chuckled softly. “That’s true of any relationship we have with another person. It’s up to you how much you share with the other person. Just because you don’t know what Viperion’s face looks like doesn’t mean you don’t know what his heart looks like.”

She looked at her friend in shock. “Wow, Alya. That was kinda deep.”

“What can I say?” she retorted with an exaggerated hair flip, “I have my moments.”

They both started giggling and the absurdity of Alya’s statement. After a few moments, Marinette took a deep breath and continued talking. “To be honest, I think if it were Viperion who had confessed his love to me, I think I would give him a shot.”

“Really? So what makes Viperion different than Luka?”

“I don’t know. I’m just so comfortable around Viperion. We can laugh and joke around and there’s no expectation there for anything else. When I’m with Luka, I can be myself around him, but there’s still that, I don’t know… pressure? I can’t really describe it.”

Deciding that she’s pushed her friend far enough for one day, Alya changed the subject. “So have you seen Luka since Saturday? Has he been stopping by the bakery like he used to?”

Marinette shook her head. “I think he’s giving me space. He invited me to see him perform next Saturday, though.”

“Oh my god, you have to go!” she shrieked. “Nino and I will go with you if it’ll make you feel better.”

“Would you?” she looked relieved. “I was going to ask Adrien if he wanted to come too. Get him out of his house for a night, ya know?”

Alya’s nose crinkled as she scowled at her friend. “Really? You think bringing Adrien to go see Luka play is really a good idea?”

Marinette’s brows furrowed in response. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be a good idea? He’s one of my best friends!”

She sighed at the naïve girl’s utter lack of awareness. “If you think it’s a good idea, then go ahead and invite him, girl. It’s your funeral.”

-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-

To Marinette, she thought of the evolution of her relationship with Adrien Agreste as a marker to indicate how much she had grown up and matured over the years. If someone had told her that she would be able to personally invite him out to join her – and their friends – to a club to watch a band perform without stuttering or making an absolute fool of herself, she would have called that person a liar. When they had been teenagers, there had been something about him that had made her brain short circuit in the most embarrassing of ways.

In a way, she was flabbergasted that the blond boy had never caught on to the way she had felt about him back then. In her mind, her obsession with him had been so painfully obvious to literally everyone except Adrien himself. Maybe he was just that oblivious. Or maybe he had been aware and was ignoring her affection for him in order to avoid a painfully awkward rejection.

It was something that she had wondered about many, many times over the years, but as her attraction for him had waned, she’d decided to just leave it alone and put it behind her.

Once she had moved on and made the conscious decision to be Adrien’s friend rather than just another fangirl, they had grown even closer than she had ever imagined. She was aware of the constant pressure he was placed under from his father and she had become a sort of safe haven for him to turn to when the stress of living up to his father’s expectations while pursuing his own dream became too much. If she were to be honest with herself, she was honored that she was the person he turned to when he just needed a break from reality.

However, recently she had begun to wonder if he had an ulterior motive for seeking out her company.

Over the past few months, she’d begun to notice that he’d been making more and more excuses to spend time with her, even if it meant squeezing in time between his university classes to drop into the bakery to snag a few pastries before returning to campus across the city. Surely there were other places much closer to his university where he could eat his lunch.

But Marinette never questioned him. She never brought up the lingering glances she caught him giving her. She never confronted him about the casual way he would invade her personal space, even if it was in a platonic way. She was hesitant to rattle the status quo they had been living in for so long, especially if her intuition was wrong. God, that would be embarrassing for him, as well as her.

A trickle of unease ran down her spine when she saw the way Adrien’s grin lit up his face when he noticed her approach in front of the club where Luka’s band would be performing that night. The sparkle in his eyes was something that she chose to ignore. After all, she was here at the invitation of another man.

‘Oh crap,’ she thought to herself. ‘Now I understand what Alya meant.’ She really hoped her utterly brilliant idea of inviting Adrien to watch Luka’s performance would not end up blowing up in her face.

As she and Adrien made small talk while waiting for the other half of their group to arrive, Marinette sent up a silent plea to whoever was listening that nothing bad happened tonight.

-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-

Once inside the club – turns out it really does help expedite the process when a member of the band gives the bouncer your name in anticipation of your arrival – Marinette and her friends looked around for a good spot to watch the show from. Even though they had gotten there an hour before Luka was supposed to hit the stage, the club was packed.

As she looked around the crowded club, Marinette was impressed. She’d been here before with Alya a few times to unwind after a rough day and it had never been this busy. It was standing room only and the mass of bodies crowding in front of the stage was already nearly impenetrable. Apparently, the band Luka was playing with tonight was more popular than he had led her to believe.

Just when she and her friends had resigned themselves to watching the show from the back of the room, a ripple of movement through the crowd caught her attention. The volume of chatter rose over the pre-recorded music being pumped through the speakers, easily becoming audible over the pounding base that made it feel like her ribs were vibrating with the reverberation.

She strained her eyes in a futile attempt to see what had caused the commotion, but she was too short to see over the heads of so many people.

When Nino nudged her arm with his elbow, she glanced at him in question, but he was too busy waving to someone in the crowd. Just then, Luka himself broke through the sea of bodies and the rift he had opened with his passing closed behind him.

He grinned at the four of them and yelled over the music to be heard. “I’m glad you guys could make it! I wasn’t expecting it to be this crowded tonight.”

Marinette couldn’t help but notice the way that Adrien shifted on his feet to inch just a little closer to her. Luckily, Luka didn’t notice the subtle movement due to his attention being focused solely on her. Thankfully, Nino kept the conversation going as he made the necessary introductions, even though she was pretty sure that Luka had met Alya and Adrien before.

They decided to brave the bar in an attempt to get something to drink. Luka stuck to water since he would be playing later and he wanted to have a clear head for the show. The other four, however, ordered bottles of beer to wet their parched throats. The temperature in the club was already becoming oppressive simply from the heat of so many bodies pressed together in one place.

Marinette couldn’t prevent the way her cheeks flushed whenever Luka bent over to yell something into her ear. The music was loud enough to invite the intrusion into her personal space, but she was certain that the hand he placed on the small of her back was unnecessary. Welcome, but unnecessary.

While Luka and Marinette stood off to the side and attempted to carry on a conversation in the loud club, Nino and Alya were keeping a careful eye on how their other friend was reacting to the interaction. He wasn’t taking it very well if the way he was scowling as he quickly drained his bottle was any indication. They tried to get Adrien’s attention away from the couple talking next to the bar, but even as he half heartedly listened to them talk, his eyes never once strayed from their dark-haired companion. Or the hand pressing gently on her back.

Alya and Nino grew more concerned as Adrien ordered and three more bottles of beer and emptied them before Luka motioned to them for them to follow him. Adrien tipped his head back to drain his last bottle and slammed it on the bar before following their group.

Using the dense crowd as a flimsy and utterly transparent excuse, Luka grabbed Marinette’s hand and led her through the crowd to get closer to the stage. With her free hand, she grabbed Alya by the arm, who grabbed onto Nino with her own spare hand. Nino, in turn, snagged the last reluctant member of their party and weaved their way up to the front of the crowd.

When they were in the front, right in the middle of the stage, Luka leaned in one last time. “I’ve got to go finish setting up. We’ll be starting soon, but I wanted to make sure you had the best seat in the house for this.”

Marinette’s heart fluttered. He really was so sweet, sacrificing time he should have spent preparing for the concert to make sure that she was taken care of. She shooed him playfully and he gave her arm one last squeeze before making his way backstage.

They didn’t have to wait long before the house lights dimmed and the spotlights illuminated the stage. The roar of the crowd was deafening when Luka and he other members of the band stepped on stage.

If she thought he was cute under normal circumstances, the moment he stepped on stage, her jaw – and her IQ – dropped. He was wearing simple clothes, nothing fancy since he wasn’t a full-time member of the band and didn’t want to attract too much attention away from the main members: ripped jeans and a shredded black t-shirt with a pair of Converse sneakers on his feet. But the moment he pinned her with his eyes, Marinette’s brain ceased to function. He had heavily outlined his ocean-blue eyes with eyeliner and the way he looked at her did things to her insides that she didn’t want to acknowledge. He was freaking hot.

Marinette joined in and cheered for Luka; she hadn’t learned what the band was called, so she just screamed his name when the vocalist, a tall, slender girl with wild, jet-black hair introduced each member of the band.

The way he winked at her as he slung the strap of his guitar over his shoulder made her mouth go dry. Seriously, it should be illegal for someone to look that good holding a guitar.

From the moment the band started playing the first song, Marinette was mesmerized. Hearing Luka play at her parent’s bakery and in her room had shown her that he had talent, but seeing him on stage, playing with a full band, gave her a whole new appreciation for his skill. The way his fingers danced over the strings of his instrument was a thing of beauty to behold and the way he moved so confidently around the stage told her that this was who Luka truly was.

Gone was the quiet boy who liked to tease her and who she had always considered a bit of a flirt. This boy – no, this man – was sex incarnate. He knew exactly what he was doing with his fingers on his instrument and the dexterity he displayed (as well as the heated way he looked down at her from the stage) made her think about what else he could do with those nimble fingers.

She shook her head to get rid of those intrusive thoughts. She looked up just in time to see him wink at her and smirk knowingly. It was like he knew exactly what she had been thinking about.

The band continued playing, sending the crowd into an absolute frenzy. People around her were dancing and jumping and screaming and Marinette was loving every second of it.

Until she felt someone drape their arms around her shoulders, holding her in an unwelcome embrace from behind.

She turned her head to see Adrien grinning at her from mere inches away. In all their time together, as casual as their physical interactions had been, he’d never been so bold when touching her. It was something she truly respected about him as a person; he knew where the line was. Until now.

She looked to her other side to see if she could get Alya’s help, but her friend was too wrapped up in the energy of the crowd to notice her predicament. She reached up and grabbed Adrien’s wrists, aiming to gently pry his arms away from her, but he only took that as an invitation to cuddle her closer.

She looked up to the stage with a panicked expression. Sure enough, Luka had noticed what was going on. He walked across the stage, never missing a beat, and crouched down to where she was standing. He locked eyes with Adrien and growled, “Let her go. Now.”

The singer’s vocals were loud enough that nobody around them realized what was happening. To the casual observer, he was just interacting with the crowd. But to Marinette’s immense relief, Luka’s actions had caused not only Adrien to release his hold of her shoulders but had also attracted Alya and Nino’s attention to the drama that was unfolding between their two other friends.

Thankfully, once that situation had been diffused, the rest of the concert had gone off without a hitch, but Adrien’s actions made it abundantly clear to Marinette that she would be having a serious discussion with her friend about boundaries and personal space.

-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-

As the club emptied out after the show, Marinette and company were waiting by the bar for Luka to make another appearance. After a few short minutes, he walked up, reached behind the bar to snag a bottle of water that was waiting for him, and drained half of it before he turned to them.

“So, what did you think of the show?”

Marinette beamed at him. She didn’t think her smile could stretch any further across her face. “Luka, you were amazing! How are you not famous by now?”

He chuckled at her enthusiastic reaction. “I don’t want to be famous. I like my peaceful life.” He shrugged his shoulders and took another sip of his water. “I just want to play my music and live in peace.”

While Nino and Alya exclaimed over how good the show was, Marinette could feel the daggers that Adrien was staring at Luka. As time passed and his gaze turned darker and darker, she had had enough.

Just as she was about to confront him about his attitude, Luka reached out and place his hand on her shoulder. “I hate to do this, but I’ve got to help them break the equipment down. Do you think I can stop by your place when I’m done?”

Pulling her phone out of her purse, she checked the time. It was only 10:30pm, so she nodded and told him she’d be waiting for him in the bakery.

With a final thanks to everyone for coming to see him perform, Luka strode off to join the band and clear the stage of equipment.

When they all left the club, Alya and Nino were hesitant to leave Marinette and Adrien alone, especially considering Adrien’s erratic behavior earlier and his questionable sobriety. But Marinette told them not to worry and sent them on their way, giving Alya a pointed stare that managed to convey that she was going to be having a very serious conversation with Adrien about what had transpired that night.

So it was with a little concern – and a promise to text when Marinette made it home safely – that Nino and Alya made their way home, watching as Marinette and Adrien walked in the opposite direction towards the DuPain-Cheng bakery.

-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-

Chapter 19 (Coming Soon!)

*This chapter gave me soo much trouble. The first half I just absolutely hated, but I absolutely flew through the second half. I've been wanting to write Luka's concert for like, ever and personally, I love how it came out. And while I wasn't planning on Adrien acting like a possessive jerk initially, I think it kinda fit. So, I'm sorry if he seems OOC, but I love it and that's all that matters haha. BTW, this is the longest chapter I’ve written so far, by nearly 1,000 words! Yay for progress and longer chapters!

I'd like to apologize for it taking me so freaking long to get this out. Now that I'm not dying of the flu anymore, I'm working so much more, picking up all sorts of shifts to cover for the people who can't work now because they don't have childcare and the kids here are still out of school. I count myself extremely fortunate that I'm still able to work (I'm a home healthcare provider), so I'm not taking that for granted.

Special thanks as always for those who have reblogged, liked, and replied to this story of mine. It sincerely touches me that you like this utter trash that I'm creating and I couldn't be happier. I'm always so excited to see what you guys have to say about the new chapters and I so look forward to your feedback. I love you guys so much!

The next chapter will be exciting for me to write. Marinette confronts Adrien with his stupid behavior and Luka sees something he shouldn't.

Until next time, my lovelies XOXO*

@write-for-your-life2

#lukanette fanfiction #lukanette #lukanette february #lukanette fic #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #miraculous fanfic #marinette dupain cheng #luka couffaine

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witchesoz · 4 years

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What we know of Oz: Book 1, West and monkeys

We explored the East, so why not go this time to the West! # The West, the Yellow Land, the Country of the Winkies. At the time of the story, it is THE place everyone avoids in Oz. We know that the river that separates the East and the Center leads to the West, because when their raft is carried away the Tin Woodman tells his comrades they’ll end up in the domain of the Wicked Witch of the West. The Emerald City has no road leading to the West, not even a pathway, because nobody wants to go there.

When Dorothy and her friends start going West, they at first are in the middle of “fields of soft grass, dotted with daisies and buttercups” (due to the pleasantness of the setting, I guess they are in the western part of the “central” region). But when they enter into the Land of the West properly, things take a very different turn. The ground becomes “rougher and hillier” as well as “untilled”. There are no houses, no farms, as well as no trees, so that in this country the sun shines bright and hot, with no fresh shadow to protect the travelers. Contrary to the East, the West clearly suffered from the Wicked Witch’s reign. However, when the heroes travel back to the Emerald City, they describe the Western Country as actually being made of “big fields of buttercups and yellow daisies” (apparently, the local flowers), as well as having some butterflies flying around. Note that this second journey happens at least two weeks if not more after the death of the Wicked Witch – maybe the country had time to regrow a flora and fauna in between? We only see one noticeable location in all of this country – the castle of the Wicked Witch, also called the Yellow Castle because the castle is all yellow, both inside and outside. Interestingly, the castle is never described as creepy or terrifying looking – in fact, the rooms inside the castle are described as “big” and “beautiful”. We know that the Castle is located quite far away from the Emerald City because our protagonists spend at least one week walking away from it, and they still end up “far away” from the Emerald City. # The Winkies are the local population of the West, and in the book’s time period the slaves of the Wicked Witch of the West. It is said that she forced them to work hard for “many years” and treated them with great cruelty, but to what work did they toil every day? It is never specified. Outside of this, we know that the Winkies are noted to not be brave people, fleeing easily in front of the danger – for example, when tasked with killing the Lion, and even when armed with sharp spears, they flee upon hearing his roar. It is noted that the Witch has many Winkie guards around her castle, who are too afraid of the Wicked Witch to disobey her. But deep down they are not bad people, just forced into fear and submission. It is quite interesting that the Witch, herself being a coward, uses fear as a way to control her population. The Winkies celebrate greatly the Witch’s death – and in fact it is them, and not the Munchkins, that decide to turn it into a holiday, celebrating it with feasting and dancing. We also clearly see that the Winkies have a very strong association with gems and metals. We never see any Winkie farm, but they have goldsmiths, as well as “very good” tinsmiths. They take a great liking to the Tin Woodman, to the point they beg him to become their new ruler – and finally their gifts to the heroes are all made of expensive stones and metals. Collars of gold for Toto and the Lion, a bracelet studded with diamonds for Dorothy, a gold-headed walking stick for the Scarecrow, and a silver oil can inlaid with gold and set with precious jewels. (This actually fits very well with the idea that the Wicked Witch dried up the land, preventing any kind of real farming, and the Winkies having to turn to metallurgy and gem-mining to survive). # Of course, she was going to be brought up at some point. The most iconic villain of Oz, the Wicked Witch of the West. Who actually is quite different from how you may imagine her – and is also not so much of a big villain in the Ozian books.

We know that the Wicked Witch never leaves her country, instead attacking those that enter her borders. Many times throughout the book warnings were given to Dorothy: “If we end up in the West, she will enchant us and make us her slaves!” or “She would make you a slave if you passed her way”. Indeed, the Wicked Witch of the West has a very simple mindset – either you’re a slave, either you’re nothing. She is obsessed with controlling and enslaving anyone who enters or live in her country, and if she can’t enslave you, or if you can’t be a good slave, she will just kill or destroy you. In fact, this was her first decision upon seeing the heroes: a strawman, a tin man, a lion and a little girl? They don’t make good slaves! That is why she tries to kill them at first. But upon seeing it fail, she decides to save one of them: the Lion. She ends up revising her opinion of him after he frightens Winkies with his roar, and decides to capture him and “put him to work”. Once captured and locked in a cage inside her castle, the Wicked Witch tries to tame the Lion in order to harness him to her chariot (in her own words, it would amuse her to have him drag her chariot “like a horse”). However, each time she enters the cage, the Lion roars and threatens her, so she ended up deciding to starve him until he would agree to be harnessed (something Dorothy thwarts by giving food to the Lion every night).

Because you see, this is another big trait of the Wicked Witch of the West – she is a coward. Or rather she is a witch plagued with fears. She is as afraid as everyone else in Oz upon hearing the Lion’s roar, she is terrified upon seeing the Silver Shoes and ready to flee, and she is also said to have two enormous terrors, phobias that prevent her from stealing away the Silver Shoes. In the book, the shoes have no protective charm whatsoever, so the Witch thinks of stealing them when Dorothy takes them off, but the little girl only takes them off twice in the day. When she takes her bath, and when she goes to sleep. And the Witch is both afraid of water (for understandable reasons) and of the dark, so she can never steal the shoes. Yes, you heard it right, the Wicked Witch of the West is afraid of the dark. Yep, quite a twist on the typical witch image, huh? In fact, when you read the book, you realize that the Witch seems mostly associated with the light and the sun than with the night – her country has a hot, blazing sun, is devoid of any vegetation (suggesting a drought of some sort), her castle is of a bright yellow… And the only clouds mentioned in the story appear after the Witch’s death. (Which led to some people theorizing that the Wicked Witch put some sort of spell on the country preventing it from ever raining, causing a massive drought). This also offers quite some contrast with the Wicked Witch of the East, who was ultimately destroyed by the sunlight. Even more ironic is that the inhabitants of the Emerald City call her “wicked and fierce”, so apparently she built herself the reputation of a dangerous and fearless witch, which she is not.

In terms of physical description, we have only two indications about the Witch’s appearance (outside of the fact that she is often referred to as a “woman”). At one point, there is a mention of her having a “skinny feet”, and she only has “one eye”. Some like to interpret it as her wearing an eyepatch, while others rather make a cyclop out of her. But this one eye is said to be “as powerful as a telescope” and able to see “anywhere”. She apparently has a habit of sitting in front of her castle to look around at her country and spy on everyone – this is how she saw the protagonists arrive. We also know that she always carries with her an old umbrella, with which she threatens Dorothy and hits Toto (for hitting the Winkies, she rather has a strap) – the choice of an umbrella is quite fitting given her weakness to water. She is weak to water, but she still allows water in her castle, mind you. In fact, when she makes Dorothy her slave, she puts her in her kitchen, forcing her to sweep the floor and feed the fire with wood, but also to clean pots and kettles – thus Dorothy has to work with water. Plus Dorothy also takes baths while in the castle. I guess the Witch doesn’t want anyone to find out about her weakness so she keeps it around casually as if it was nothing? The book insists that she never touched water or never let water touch her. As for the reason of this water-allergy, the book may reveal it. You see, at one point Toto bites the Wicked Witch in the leg, but no blood comes out of the wound. The narration mentions that the Witch was so wicked that “the blood in her had dried many years before”. The completely absence of any kind of liquid or fluid inside her body may explain why she is so sensitive to water – note here that this is said to be a result of “wickedness”. We can compare it to the Wicked Witch of the East, who was said to have been so old that she dried up in the sun. We also know that the Wicked Witch is prompt to anger because she gets enraged at the mere sight of the travelers inside her country, and when they defeat her first armies, she “stamps her foot, tore her hair and gnashed her teeth”. Because yes, in the book the Wicked Witch has several armies at her service. Of course she has the Winkies that she sends after the heroes, but as noted above they are cowards too and flee easily in front of the Lion’s roar, even when armed with spears. But her true force is located in other armies… the Witch always has, hanging around her neck, a silver whistle. When she blows in it once, she invokes a pack of forty great wolves, with “long legs, fierce eyes and sharp teeth”, that can tear people to pieces. When she blows in it twice, she invokes a great flock of forty crows that can blacken the sky and peck the eyes out of people before tearing them to pieces. Finally, when she blows in it thrice, she invokes a great swarm of black bees that can sting people to death. She invokes all three armies to go after the heroes, but they are all defeated: the Tin Woodman chops the wolves’ heads off, the Scarecrow snaps the neck of all the crows, and the bees all break their sting and die when trying to kill the Tin Woodman. Outside of her silver whistle, Golden Cap and telescope-eye, we also see the Witch do one other bit of magic – in order to get the Silver Shoes, she puts an iron bar in the middle of the kitchen and turns it invisible. Her turning object invisibles ties up with the themes previously explored or mentioned: the one of the sight (her magic eye) as well as the one of the light. Thanks to this bar, she actually manages to steal one of the Silver Shoes and put it on. The narration specifies at this point that to have one of the two shoes is actually to own “half of their charm”, and Dorothy couldn’t possibly use the power of her own shoe against the Witch, even if she knew how (it is unclear if it is because a shoe can’t act against another shoe, or if half of a shoe is not enough power). That is when Dorothy becomes very angry and throws a bucket at her, making the Witch melt like “brown sugar”. She ends up as a “brown, melted, shapeless mass”, and Dorothy just washes it away by cleaning the floor, as she did since many may days for now. # The Golden Cap. I just couldn’t forget this one. This magical cap made of gold, with a “circle of diamonds and rubies” running around it. We know it is the size of Dorothy’s head (since everything in Oz is the size of Dorothy), and it has a strong charm attached to it – it can invoke the Winged Monkeys, a race of monkeys with “a pair of immense and powerful wings attached to their shoulders”. These Monkeys, once invoked by the Cap, are bound to do anything the wearer of the Cap orders them to do, in the limits of what is physically possible. But there are some rules…

First, to invoke the Winged Monkeys one has to follow a strict ritual. Standing on their left foot, they have to say “Ep-pe, pep-pe, kak-ke!”. Then, standing on their right foot they have to say “Hil-lo, hol-lo, hel-lo!”. Finally, standing on both feet they have to shout “Ziz-zy, zuz-zy, zik!”. All the instructions to this process are written inside the cap, in case anyone forgets. The second limitation is that the wearer of the Cap can only invoke the Winged Monkeys three times, after that the charm stops working. When we first see the Cap, it is in possession of the Wicked Witch of the West (who keeps it inside the same cupboard she keeps all her food in, which… isn’t the safest place to store a powerful magic item, especially since Dorothy found it pretty easily). She already used it two times before the events of the story. She invoked once the Winged Monkeys to help her enslave the Winkies and take the control of the Land of the West; and then she invoked the Winged Monkeys a second time to fight off the Wizard of Oz and banish him out of the Yellow West. The third time she uses the Monkeys, it is to kill the heroes, after all of her previous armies were defeated – the Monkeys carry on her wish, except for her desire to kill Dorothy because she is protected by the North Witch’s kiss and, as they say, “she is protected by the Power of Good, which is greater than the Power of Evil”. A… very strange statement, especially given that the North Witch was said to be weaker than the Wicked East Witch, but anyway.

The Cap then falls into the hands of Dorothy, who also uses it three times. Once to have the Winged Monkeys carry her and her friends from the West to the Emerald City, since they can’t find their way on their own (it is noted at this point that the Winged Monkeys are actually really fast, able to do several days’ worth of walking in a few hours). The second time she invokes them, it is to carry her out of Oz back to Kansas, but the Monkeys answer that they can’t because they “belong” to Oz and can’t leave it, Kansas not being a place for them to exist in. This second invocation is thus wasted. The final time Dorothy invoked them was to pass over the Hammerheads Hills, to the Quadling Country. The Cap finally ended up into the hands of the Glinda, the Good Witch of the South, that promised to use it three times herself – one to bring the Scarecrow back to Emerald City, a second time to bring the Tin Woodman back to the Winkies, and a third time to bring the Lion back to his forest. She also adds that after her wishes are done, she would give the Golden Cap to the Winged Monkeys themselves so that no one may ever use it again. The Winged Monkeys are also noted to be usually heard “chattering and laughing”. The Queen of the Field Mice is perfectly aware of the spell of the Golden Cap and she knows apparently quite well the Winged Monkeys, adding that the mice fear them because they are “full of mischief” and think that it is “great fun” to plague the mice. # We actually also get a complete backstory for the Winged Monkeys and the Golden Cap in the book. It is told to Dorothy by the current leader of the Winged Monkeys, a monkey noted to be “much bigger than the others” (a sentence that was funnily twisted in the 1990s cartoon by having the leader of the Winged Monkeys being actually very fat). This story is pretty interesting because it takes place in the North of Oz, and gives us a bit more information about this unknown country. The Winged Monkeys used to be “free people”, living in a great forest of the North, spending their time eating nuts and fruits, doing as they pleased. The trouble was that the things that pleased them were mischiefs – pulling animal tails, chasing birds, throwing nuts at travelers. They were “careless, happy, full of fun, enjoying every minute of the day”. But one day they became bound to the Golden Cap. This story is said to happen “many years ago”, before Oz-wizard “came out of the clouds” to rule over Oz. At the time, the King of the Winged Monkeys was the current leader’s grandfather. The Winged Monkeys lived in a forest near a handsome palace built of great blocks of ruby (it is quite weird to hear of a red stone in the Gillikin Country, given that the Quadling Country is the one associated with the color red. But at the time Baum had no idea what color the North would have – however note that the rubies can actually be purple!). This palace was the one of Gayelette, a beautiful princess that was also a powerful sorceress. She is never said to be a Witch, or even a Good Wich, but she is described using all of her magic to help people, and she apparently never hurt anyone who was good (which suggests that she hurt the people who were bad).

Everyone loved Gayelette, but she had one big sorrow in life: she couldn’t find someone to love in return. Apparently, all of the men around her were too “stupid and ugly” to “mate” with one “so beautiful and so wise”. It isn’t clear if this is Gayelette’s own thoughts or an obvious fact… but it seems to imply that the people of the North are dumb uglies. Until one day Gaylette found a boy that was handsome, manly and wise beyond his years. She swore to make him her husband once he grew up, so she took him in her ruby palace and used all of her magic powers to make him “as strong and good and lovely as any woman could wish”. Yeah this sounds a bit creepy… a woman kidnapping a child and using her magic to mold him artificially into the perfect husband… yep, definitively creepy.

Anyway, finally Quelala, that is the name of the boy, became a man, and the wedding was prepared. Quelala wore a beautiful wedding outfit, a rich costume of pink silk and purple velvet (not here an early idea that the North is associated with purple). He was walking by the side of a river with this outfit when the Winged Monkeys spot him, and deciding to have a bit of fun, took him and threw him in the middle of the river. Quelala wasn’t offended by that, in fact he laughed merrily at the joke, but Gayelette became furious upon seeing the beautiful costume ruined. She was so angry she wanted the Winged Monkeys to be thrown in the river with their wings tied up – which would certainly make them drown. Talk of a good sorceress… Hopefully the Monkey King pleaded very well for his cause, and Quelala also slipped a kind word for the Winged Monkeys. So Gaylette rather punished them by binding them to the Golden Cap with the charm described above – this Golden Cap was a wedding gift from Gaylette to Quelala, and it apparently cost the princess “half of her kingdom”. Quelala was the first owner of the Cap, and his only order was that the Winged Monkeys would go where Gaylette would never see them again. After that the Monkeys lived an idle and peaceful life for many years, before the Cap fell into the hands of the Wicked Witch of the West.

This backstory fascinates Ozian fans in general, who makes all sort of theories about Gayelette – making her a previous Good Witch of the North, or making Gayelette and Quelala the parents of Glinda, or whatever else can pass through their head. Remember though that Gayelette is never called a Witch but merely a "sorceress" without a capital letter, and this position of sorceress is put on the same level as her role of princess, which reinforces this idea that a sorceress is more a job or a function than a person's nature. It is also interesting to note that this backstory talks indeed of a very specific kingdom, presumably located inside the land of Oz, which seems to be a clue that in the past Oz was a group of several kingdoms bordering each other.

#oz #oz geography #oz history #what we know of oz #the wonderful wizard of oz #west #wicked witches #wicked witch of the west #winged monkeys #lore #book #gayelette #quelala #golden cap #winkies #north #forest #gillikin country

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goliath-de-senfina-sango · 4 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Danny Phantom Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Danny Fenton & Wesley Weston Characters: Danny Fenton, Wesley Weston, Jazz Fenton, Maddie Fenton Additional Tags: Walker is mentioned repeatedly, Phantom Family AU, Revelations, being a lil shit is genetic apparently, Danny swears in stars and constellations and space stuff, Wes swears with cuss words Summary: Prompt from Tumblr: I wish you would write a fic about Danny being a little shit to Vlad by revealing him to Wes. Wes comes over and nearly gets Danny’s half life ended, which leads to further family revelations that leave Danny’s head spinning.

Danny Fenton was having a weird and not particularly pleasant week. His Dad had finally encountered the Box Ghost, who took one look at him and glitched out like a Bethesda character before apparently regaining his memories. Apparently, the Box Ghost was Jason Fenton, older brother of Jack Fenton. The Box Ghost was Danny’s Uncle. That was weird as fuck to discover, especially when he implied that Box Lunch would be a person he’d have to deal with soonish. He was going to have a cousin. His already living cousin, Wes, had decided later that week to ruin Danny’s life by asking him right in front of Jazz and Mom if he still had that giant green dog thing he’d crashed a game with. Danny dragged him up to the third floor of Fentonworks, shoved him into his room, and learned very quickly that Wes had figured out that he was Phantom the moment he focused on him. “Orion, man, you can’t just imply I’m a ghost in front of Mom or Dad!” “Why not?” Wes stared at him like he’d grown a second head - he hadn’t, he knew the sensation - and Danny took a moment to redirect the energy surging to his eyes over his skin and outward. It blanketed the room in a wave and left what Tucker had described as the feeling of touching an old tv and feeling static on your fingers all over the place. Wes rubbed his arm and raised a brow at him. “Wes, tell me what Jack Fenton is going to think if you tell him ‘hey that ghost kid you shoot at all the time is your kid’? Actually, no, how the fuck did you even figure it out?” “You look like you put on your suit and then someone turned on the color inversion filter on their camera. Blue skin, white hair, black and white suit.” Wes paused and poked Danny’s cheek, looking him in the eye. “Your eyes should be orange instead of green though if that were the whole case. How’d this happen? Last time I talked to you, you n Tucker were talking about building a motorcycle that could fly.” “The hoverbike has sorta been put on hold, I’ll admit,” Danny grumbled, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. He pulled his hands away from his face and Wes was still there, tall and stupid and overly observant. “If I tell you what happened, do you promise not to out me to my parents?” “I-should I treat this like you’re in the closet?” Wes snorted at the idea. “Closeted dead guy. Alright, I can get that. But uh, if you’re dead, why are you still…” he wiggled his hand and then gestured at Danny’s room. “In a house with ghost hunters?” “Well, to start with, I’m not actually dead. Not entirely, anyway.” Danny sat down on his bed and Wes followed, and after taking a moment to triple check that Vlad’s bugs weren’t in his room with another wave of energy, Danny told Wes the story of the Accident. It was a short story, but he was slow about it. He’d never really discussed it with anyone, Sam and Tucker just sort of knew better than to bring it up and Jazz probably thought he’d tell her himself in his own time. By the time he finished, Wes looked almost as uncomfortable with the situation as Danny felt. “You know, not to sound like a cheesy 90’s cartoon character but this is why you shouldn’t give in to peer pressure.” Danny snorted and laughed at that, and Wes grinned even when Danny elbowed him. “Ok, so I’m putting together that you did a bunch of dumb shit and found yourself decided to be a superhero. What the fuck was up with the dog, or the mayor getting kidnapped? Your eyes were fuckin red when you stole a bunch of shit that one time too.” “Ok in order of what all happened: Axiom labs euthanized their guard dogs and one of them came looking for his squeaky toy but forgot where it was and no matter how many times I shoved Cujo back into the portal-” “ Cujo ?” Wes snorted and ruffled Danny’s hair. “Have you been reading the stuff Sam gives you or did your emo phase just never really end? You have the emo bangs.” “I do not!” Danny huffed, running a hand through his curly hair that, well, Wes couldn’t really ruin a mess, could he? “You’re the one with actual bangs, sasquatch hunter.” “Acknowledging that Big Foot is real doesn’t mean I’m gonna go and shoot it.” Wes crossed his arms and rested them on Danny’s head. “By the way, any idea when that growth spurt is due?” “Bold words for someone with his shins within targeting range.” “I can and will put you in a headlock Astroboy.” “I can slam dunk you through a hoop like your precious balls.” Wes said nothing to this and simply leaned more onto Danny’s head. “If I snap my neck because of you I’m suing. Anyway no matter how often I yeeted Cujo back into the Ghost Zone-” “I beg of you to call it something cooler. Call it the afterlife even, just. Please.” “He just kept digging his way out. So, I looked at his tag, saw that he came from Axiom, and we ended up in there, while getting shot at by the Red Huntress-” “Valerie, right?” “H-” “She appeared as the Huntress literally the same time the dog shit was happening, and I am getting increasingly worried that no one has noticed that she sounds the same in her Red Huntress suit as she does in the Nasty Burger mascot suit.” Wes dropped his arms to Danny’s shoulder, but still rested his chin in his hair, humming loudly. Danny slid into that spot between and snorted when Wes fell onto the bed. “I can’t tell you how pissed she was that I outed her to her dad about being the Huntress so that she wouldn’t get herself killed fighting Pariah Dark. Pretty sure if you tell her or anyone else about that, she’ll shoot you.” “I mean, it’d probably get her swarmed by so much hostility she stops shooting at you, so that’d be a plus. I’d just come back and bug you anyway.” “You’re a jerk, but I guess you’re alright.” Danny flopped back. “The mayor thing was a ghost, this douche bag prison warden named Walker in the GZ who decided that since I broke out of his prison I owe him over a thousand years and he’d make my home a prison instead.” Wes stared at him, clasped his hands flat against each other, and took a deep breath. “There are so many things wrong in that sentence. Why were you in ghost prison?” “I did ghost crimes.” Wes looked and sounded like he was in some deal of pain, and Danny couldn’t help but grin. “Dad’s anniversary present for Mom fell through the portal while I was cleaning up by shooting things into their proper place,” he covered Wes’ mouth as he opened it, “and so I flew in after it, but it was a ‘real world item’ as though the Ghost Zone is fake somehow, and that was ‘Against The Rules’ according to Walker.” Danny rolled his eyes. “I got the present out and back to Dad but I had to like, get to him at your mom’s place.” “Did you fly all the way from Minnesota to Arkansas for a present?” “Arcturus, no, not with my powers.” Danny laughed, laying back on his bed. “That’d take me like, 8 hours at top speed. No, I used the Speeder.” “Have you modified it to get into space?” “Not yet.” “Do you have permission to mod it for space travel?” “Do I have permission to be dead?” “Touche.” “Anyway, Walker is stronger than me, even when possessing a human, so when all eyes and cameras were on me he possessed the mayor and dragged me back inside to make it look like I was dragging him in. Whole invasion was his idea.” “Danny?” “And then with the robberies when my eyes were red, did you know about Circus Gothica? Cause me and some other ghosts were under the control of the ring master of the circus, Freakshow, who had this freakin crystal ball thing that could control ghosts attached to his staff. It shattered after a very long fall, thank Astrea.” “That’s really fucked up. You’ve had a fucked up life.” “Yeah.” Danny shrugged. “I guess I have.” “Know what’s more fucked up about this?” Wes had a too big grin on his face and Danny narrowed his eyes. “Do you remember my mom’s last name?” “Wal..ker… no. ” The two of them were thundering down the stairs in seconds, Danny half shouting in the livingroom. “ Mom was your dad, by chance, a law enforcement officer, or jail warden or something?” Mom looked up at him from the staff she was tinkering with on the table - note to self, sterilize the table before dinner - and blinked at him a couple of times before smiling and nodding. “Why yes, he did. Warden James Lamont Walker ran the Spittoon prison when he was alive. He was a good man, if a bit strict. To my and Alicia’s fury and grief he was murdered during a prison break.” Mom stared off in the distance, the air around her curling with a dark cold that Danny was sure only he could see. Then she softened up a bit and smiled softly at them. “Why?” “No reason, auntie, I was just curious about something and Danny thought we should ask you.” Wes played with the hem of his shirt while maintaining eye contact and Danny wondered if he had a tell for awkwardness like that. Then he realized he was rubbing the back of his neck. “Do you have any pictures of him?” “Oh, yes! They’re in the shed! My boxes are actually labelled.” “Uh oh, careful, Dad might hear of organization and come to tear it up,” Danny said with a laugh, half dragging Wes out the back door. When they were out of his mom’s considerable ear shot, Danny said softly, but with feeling, “Fuck.” “Got locked up by grandpa, huh? That’s like, the worst way to get grounded ever .” Wes snickered and watched Danny run-walk up to the shed, hand glowing so softly you could only see it by staring directly at it as he turned the knob. “There are odds, slim ones, that this is a whole different Walker. It might even be his first name.” “Who the hell names their kid Walker?” “Walter, Wayne and Wesley Weston.” “Alright then.” For a few minutes the two of them searched through the mess known as the Fenton Family Shed for a box with a label neither had thought to ask for. Eventually, they found one labeled Scrapbooks and carefully eased it out of the mess of it all. “Y’knonw, Danny,” Wes said as they opened the box and started flipping through scrapbooks with just enough care not to damage them. “I’m feelin kinda good about investigating a ghost with you. Is this how it is with you n your boyfriend and best friend?” Danny almost tore a page out, turning to stare at Wes. He must’ve felt the temperature drop for a second because he looked up with a raised brow. “What?” “Boyfriend?” “Tucker. Tucker Foley.” Danny’s jaw dropped and Wes’ confusion morphed into a shit eating grin. “You know, Tucker spends most of his time with you Foley? The one you build shit with all the time? The nerd that you get sick in sync with? I’ve seen you lose a pencil and then he puts one behind your ear while you look for the one you lost. You made him a custom gaming computer disguised as a console.” Danny’s face burned red as a tomato at this point and he shoved Wes. “Shut up I’m not dating Tucker!” “I have to ask Jazz about this now, you’re killing me.” Wes snorted and flipped a page. He blinked down at the scrapbook and pointed at a picture. “James Walker. This look anything like him?” Danny took the book and looked at the picture. Looked at the several pictures of the man with his daughters, wearing a black pinstriped suit in a handful of them. And he let out a long, loud groan. “I hate this week, I hate it so much.” Wes started cackling and Danny scowled. “That reminds me.” He kicked Wes in the shins and grinned. “Much better. Also, Wes, I gotta tell you. I’m not one of a kind, as far as my living status goes.” “Oh what, there’s another Schrodinger’s little shit flying around out there?” Wes rubbed his ankle and hissed. “Well, you didn’t hear it from me, but that fruitloop we call a mayor may have been elected because he possessed literally everyone that was voting.” Wes went silent and stared at him, and Danny nodded. “Think you can pester him instead of me? He wants to kill Dad and thinks that he can get Mom if he does that.” “Danny. My Dad works for Masters.” “This puts you in the perfect position to mess with him, I say. Just act like you’re there to see your dad.” “You oblivious asshole. I fuckin love you, cous.” “Same here, skyscraper.”

#Danny Phantom #Danny Fenton #Wes Weston #Jazz Fenton #Maddie Fenton #Walker #james walker #Box Ghost #fanfiction #fanphiction #phanfiction #phanphiction #phanfic #fanfic #fanphic #phanphic #prompt fill #Rexy Writes #Phantom Family AU

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askaceattorney · 4 years

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Dear askrikkaiandhyotei,

The...entire cast!?

Well, Turnabout Time Traveler happens to be favorite case anyway, so why not?

Our first guest is the crooked head servant, Mr. Dumas Gloomsbury. (Might as well get him out of the way first.)

Of course he isn’t. He’s just a disgruntled servant of the Sprocket family who secretly hates them all for what they’ve done to his reputation, even to the point of being willing to murder someone who would become the newest addition to the family, as well as destroying a prized possession designed by her groom-to-be.

So..........yeah. Very likable guy. Thankfully, he’s only on the scene for a brief moment before the titular “time travel” occurs.

That brings us to our next guest, Ms. Ellen Wyatt, soon to be Mrs. Ellen Sprocket, except for the fact that she’s been accused of murder. Like most defendants, she doesn’t seem like the type to kill someone -- she’s calm, mild-mannered, and well put together. Well...usually.

You didn’t expect 100% normalcy in a new character, did you? Heck, we’re lucky to get 50% in this series. Thankfully, the emotional Ms. Wyatt knows how to pull herself together in an instant.

Quite the enviable skill to have, isn’t it?

This beautiful bride-to-be wants nothing more than to be proven innocent so that she can be married to the one and only Sorin Sprocket of Sprocket Aviation. Instead of seeking help from the Wright Anything Agency on her own, however, she’s brought to them by someone else.

That brings us to an unexpected guest from yesteryear (and an uninvited one):

Before getting to know Ellen, we’re abruptly introduced to a brand new Larry Butz with a brand new look! ...And the same old smell, unfortunately.

He introduces “Elly” as his brand new fiance, much to Phoenix’s surprise (and everyone in the known universe’s), but it turns out to be another one of his usual romantic escapades. What is true is that he helped his beloved Elly escape the room she was confined in, and even shook off the police for her. Some might call this heroic...if they don’t know the Butz. As someone who does know him, Phoenix delivers a line from his former mentor:

On the plus side, Larry’s been doing more than chasing women since we last saw him -- he held onto the name he borrowed from his late mentor and became a picture book author.

Not exactly what I’d expect someone in that field to look like, but progress is progress, I guess.

Moving back to “Elly,” she claims to be as clean and pure as her pure-white dress, as well as something else -- something that’s a bit harder to believe.

Like I said, normalcy doesn’t seem to come naturally to new Ace Attorney characters, but her explanation of how she was almost killed, traveled back in time, and saw history rewritten takes the abnormal cake, especially coming from someone as sound-minded as Ellen. Or is she really as sound-minded as she looks?

We can only hope.

I love how she keeps everything she needs for housekeeping in one place, by the way, almost Mary Poppins-style.

Fast forwarding (no pun intended) through some re-introductions to Maya as our co-council and Edgeworth as the case’s prosecutor (something us long-time Ace Attorney fans can’t help but love), we’re eventually introduced to the master himself, Mr. Sorin Sprocket, who has his own personality quirks...or rather, a severe lack of personality.

Like many genius inventors, he isn’t very social (his preferred method of communication being the paper airplane message), and always seems to be lost in his thoughts until someone pulls him back into reality. Even stranger than that, he doesn’t seem the least bit worried about his fiance’s trial. In Phoenix’s his words, he isn’t the easiest guy to wrap your head around.

On top of that, he has his own thing to say about time travel:

He and Ellen apparently both believe in time travel, but apart from that, they don’t seem to have much in common. In fact, having met the two of them, one might think they’re polar opposites of each other, and...well, they’d be right, but as we learn later on, there’s more to Sorin’s silence than just an obsession with his work.

And speaking of obsession...

Our next guest, while also quite abnormal, is a bit more level-headed than the previous new characters. He’s well-mannered, detail-oriented, shrewd, and takes the utmost care of Sorin. Not to mention he's tech-savvy enough to fix a broken radio in a matter of seconds.

I’m surprised Phoenix and Maya didn’t consider the possibility of him being a machine himself, like they did with Lisa Basil.

He happens to have one of my favorite pun names, by the way. Besides being clever and describing him perfectly, it almost sounds like it could be a real person’s name.

While Mr. Nichody does a good job of being the least interesting character thus far, it turns out that he and his “expensive good luck charm” play one of the most important roles in this case. Not to mention he gives the biggest piece of foreshadowing in the episode:

Funny he should say that when there’s a spirit medium right in front of him, but I guess he doesn’t have time for unimportant details like that.

As the story goes on and the revelations start pouring in, we learn about Sorin’s older sister Selena, who was originally going to be the next president of Sprocket Aviation. This, unfortunately, was not to be...

The sudden loss of his sister provides an explanation for his closed-off attitude and interest in time machines, but the mysteries surrounding that tragic day are only beginning.

We also learn that Mr. Nichody believes Ellen is guilty of her alleged crime, and for that reason, he’s strongly opposed to letting her marry Sorin. Could he be right in doubting her, or is there something else behind is disapproval? Ellen doesn’t seem that bad, after all. Just a little...what’s the term?

There you go.

Then comes one of the bigger twists -- it turns out Sorin and his in-laws were responsible for Ellen’s supposed trip through time, which turned out to be an elaborate scheme to make her believe her near-death experience with Gloomsbury was only a dream. Or so says Nichody, at least.

But once again, this is only the beginning.

Even with the possibility of time travel ruled out, Ellen’s guilt hasn’t been disproved just yet. The only hope Phoenix has is the person she claims she saw attacking Gloombury before losing consciousness. Unfortunately, the only suspect he can come up with so far is her fiance, thus introducing the possibility of him having to take her place in prison.

Considering every case up until now has had some form of happy ending, it’d be quite the unusual turn of events for this happy couple to have to be separated whether we win or lose the case...but is it impossible?

As tragic as that possibility might be, it sets up a scene that happens to be one of my favorite kinds -- one where someone is compelled to give up something, even if it’s his or her own life, purely out of love for someone else.

Her words are touching, but soon after saying them, she’s forced to prove just how steadfast her love is for Sorin, even in a cruel twist of fate -- namely, his pointing the blame for Gloomsbury’s death in her direction.

That face alone is enough to break anyone’s heart, but thankfully, that’s where the plot twists just begin. The first one reveals that Sorin went to rescue his bride-to-be in the most bizarre way possible.

Then it turns out he really didn’t, or so he says. Then it turns out he was attacked by Gloomsbury along with Ellen. Then comes one that turns everything he’s said so far upside-down:

It turns out time travel is possible, but not in the way everyone was hoping, or in a way anyone would want -- due to his anterograde amnesia, Sorin “goes back in time” whenever he goes to sleep. This revelation sheds a lot of light on his personality, his compulsive note-taking, and his feelings toward Ellen. Not to mention, it turns out (sheesh, I keep saying that) he was responsible for the car crash that took his sister’s life. But luckily, that's not all his condition reveals.

Someone decided to take advantage of Sorin’s memory being dependent on what he writes in his notebook in order to paint him as Gloomsbury’s murder. Who might that someone be? Well, for anyone who’s read the works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (or enough murder mysteries involving rich families), it should be pretty obvious -- the butler did it!

But what motive could a close friend and servant have for manipulating Sorin’s memories? Well, like many an Ace Attorney culprit, he’s not as level-headed as he appears to be.

The rogue butler in this case turns out to be the once-fiance of Sorin’s sister, as well as the one who operated on her after the car accident occurred...or, rather, who almost did.

After some impromptu x-rays and the testimony that wasn’t there, we finally learn the whole truth about Nichody, Gloomsbury, and the plot to exact their revenge on Sorin and his bride. It turns out Sorin wasn’t the only one stuck in the past.

In a beautiful yet tragic symbolism, Selena’s pocket watch stopped ticking on the same day her heart stopped beating, which, for Nichody, was the day time stopped.

This brings us to our final guest, one who could only be here in spirit -- Ms. Selena Sprocket. In Ellen’s words, Selena would’ve said, “Leave this ill will behind. Your time is yours to live.” To an inconsolable time traveler, these words hold no meaning, but just then...

Whether it’s a coincidence or a message from Selena from beyond (which might actually be believable in the Ace Attorney universe), Pierce is reminded that, sooner or later, time moves on.

And on that note, Ellen and Sorin are finally able to move on from this rough patch in their lives and experience their “First Startup of Love.”

Speaking of the happy couple, the one thing that stuck with me about this episode more than Nichody’s epiphany is how devoted Ellen is to Sorin from beginning to end.

With the knowledge that he might forget everything about her, himself, their wedding, and any other experiences they might share together, her devotion to him is ultimately proven to be the real deal. His willingness to risk his life for her also proves that this devotion goes both ways. In the end, there’s nothing, past, present, or future, that can keep them apart. Why, you ask?

And hey, even Larry found it in himself to move on! How about that?

Thus ends a beautiful story, a beautiful reunion of the original characters, and a beautiful finale(?) to the Ace Attorney series. Sure, there was tragedy along the way, but after an ending like that, I’d like to see each of these characters, new and old, take a bow.

Just...don’t throw them any flowers.

-The Co-Mod

#askrikkaiandhyotei #Mod Post #Co Mod #Character Essay #Dumas Gloomsbury #Ellen Wyatt #Sorin Sprocket #Pierce Nichody #Selena Sprocket #Mod Commentary #Been a while hasn't it?

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bedeliainwonderland · 4 years

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I understand disliking a character..but you realize anything that happens to bedelia in context of the show is driven by hannibal, right? the man you ship her with? the stinger, her fear, all that necessitates her self preservation is instigated by hannibal. the show frequently did a disservice to its female chars, but hannibal was the tool they used to do it. denying that and then shipping him w/ your fav only to turn it around on another char seems...hypocritical.

Ahh yes, some good ol’ anon hate, I missed that. Honestly, perfect timing, I am having the worst of times and getting to talk about my favs literally saved my day. So thanks!

First of all, Bedelia and Hannibal are a canon ship, whether you like it or not, so let’s get that out of the way (as opposite to certain other ship but that is a whole other thing). I merely fill in the blanks of what the show failed to provide because, for some inexplicable reason, the show named “Hannibal” was centered on a character named Will and every other character (especially the female characters) served only to further his “man pain”. But I digress, that is surely not why you chose to hide behind that grey square.

I don’t know whether you follow me or just saw that one reblog (which ironically weren’t even my words but I stand fully behind everything said), but I have already spoken about this extensively. Every day, really. I find it hard to understand how something is hypocritical when it is based on canon information. I am not denying anything. So here we go, under the cut, because I have a LOT to say:

The stinger- oh god, you all know how much I hate it. First of all, there is no proof that Hannibal is involved, we don’t know who is involved, that is kinda the point of a cliff hanger. We don’t even know if it’s real. But it’s absolutely pointless and makes no sense! It was quite literally Fuller wanting to do something “shocking” to finish off the series without any regard to continuity or characterisation. It was supposed to be shocking and look aesthetically pleasing, that’s it, no logic. It is as if he looked at the character list and thought “hmm, which female character is yet to be hurt? Oh right, Bedelia!” The so called “punishing Bedelia” as the fandom loved so very much is mere misogyny. Why can’t a female character do something morally questionable or even plain evil and get away with it? Because Will didn’t that is why. If she were a man, no one would scream for “she has it coming”, no, he would be uwu baby.

Having Hannibal involved in that would be completely out of character and contradictory to all their previous interactions/ their relationship. So let’s expand, shall we?

When we first see Bedelia and Hannibal, it is mentioned that she has been his psychiatrist for 7 years. 7 YEARS, let that sink in. No one, NO ONE, has been in Hannibal’s life for such a long time. It is clear she means a lot to him. If she didn’t, he had plenty of chances to kill her. It is established she is a loner, so it would so easy for Hannibal to dispose of her and claim “she left to UK” or something, like he did with his secretary. But he didn’t because he cares for her and she is important to him. He literally says he feels protective of her. Every session, you can see how much he needs her approval and how he hangs on her every word. How hurt he was when she said she wasn’t his friend (and yet he did nothing). How enamoured he is with her. When he comes to bring her dinner in Savoureaux, the dish included roses! Such a romantic.

Hannibal knew Bedelia was similar to him that is why he set up the whole Neil incident; he wanted to make sure she is. Do note that Bedelia wasn’t ever in danger, since Hannibal was there to step in if needed. But here is what I’ve found interesting; Bedelia killed someone, proving Hannibal’s hunch right, but she refused to fully acknowledge that part of herself. And Hannibal let her withdraw, doing nothing (as in not killing her, as I’m sure he had done many times with unsuccessful “candidates”) merely securing her continuous therapy. Because she was more than just another experiment to him.

And Bedelia isn’t so innocent in other aspects as well. She knows, yet she purposely evades the truth while talking to the FBI (“Will could use friends like Hannibal” ha!) under the cover of patient/ doctor confidentiality and even warns Hannibal directly (“they are starting to see your pattern). I have had my fair share of “Bedelia doesn’t care for Hannibal” posts and nothing could be further from the truth. If she hadn’t cared, she would not have done any of that.

But then of course, Hannibal’s game goes one step too far and he gives her the written permission to discuss him with the FBI. This is bad for Bedelia because it puts her under the scrutiny as well and that is not where she wants to be. Bedelia’s self-preservation always comes first (both Bedelia and Hannibal are egocentric by nature). Yet, she still comes to say goodbye to him and he lets her go! The script described Hannibal’s reaction to her words as “imperceivable wound”. “But he then went to kill her!” I hear you say? *Thor’s gif* Did he though? If he wanted to kill her, he would have done it then and there. No, he went to check if she were really gone (again, script) and whether she betrayed him. That was his only concern (betrayal is a big thing with Hannibal), but she didn’t. She even left him a memento. It said it was a memento of friendship, I think it was a “see you later” card.

This is getting super long, so let’s quickly skip to Florence. Bedelia left with Hannibal, knowing exactly who he was. Unlike other (all of them, actually) characters, she did not reject him/ was scared of him. “You let them see you/ I let them see enough” exchange says it all. She is not surprised by him or shocked by what he is; she is merely stating the facts. She has long accepted him in full. They lived together in Florence, openly behind the so called veil, as fake husband and wife, but the wedding rings remained intact even at home (showing how important it was to them, not just a front), displaying a ridiculous amount of domesticity and intimacy. This deserves a whole separate post but I am trying to be brief(er). “But she was scared!” you might shout again, except that she wasn’t. Even if Antipasto purposely played with the ambiguity of her situation for suspense purposes, the following episodes made it clear she was exactly where she wanted to be, from the very start, on her own terms as Hannibal’s equal. We were obviously misled by the promos, they promised us a Bedelia and Hannibal show and what we got was, well, you know… And that is yet another post altogether.

Now to the glorious farewell, boy, do I love to talk about that. Bedelia packs Hannibal’s bags and tells him to leave, and he does! What more, he promises to tell her story. HER STORY. Now, that is a major thing, because Hannibal has never ever done that for anyone. He always turns other people’s stories into his own, manipulating and adjusting accordingly. But with Bedelia, he simply agrees to do it, on her own terms. Not only that, he is visibly impressed and enamoured by her. Again, if he wanted to kill her, he could have just killed her then. He was going to get caught anyway, what is one more murder? All this “he waited until he could eat her” story makes no sense at all, since as it was already mentioned, he knew her for almost a decade, plenty of time to eat her if he wanted to. He lets her go because he wants to. Because he cares for her.

The point I have made several times is that Bedelia is the only person that Hannibal treats as, well, a person! Everyone else is beneath him, meat only if you will, but not her. Even the ever so special (apparently) Will and Abigail aren’t treated as “people”. Bedelia is the only person that Hannibal respects; that is what makes her so special. Not love (even though he obviously loves her), because respect is rarer for Hannibal than love. Sure, he “loves” Will, the same way you love your favourite book. You want to have it and you don’t want anyone else to have it, but you don’t expect the book to return your feelings. Bedelia is Hannibal’s only equal.

The Red Dragon arc was a mess of epic proportions so I don’t even want to get into that. But I do appreciate the acknowledgement of Bedelia’s darker side and now she has become comfortable with it since Florence. Let’s make a few notes so it doesn’t look as if I am purposely omitting things: Hannibal’s letters to Bedelia? Clearly a part of his “telling her story” and helping her cover, plus he was not able to send her proper letters, so that is his way of telling her he thinks of her. Sessions with Will? You can’t really take everything she told him at face value, she is obfuscating after all. Why would she be honest with Will? She wouldn’t be, she was just continuing what Hannibal has started with much better results (slightly too good actually, as proven by Will’s stupid plan). Bedelia wasn’t afraid Hannibal would come after her, because she had no reasons to be. NONE. She was protected by him.

So there you have it, the great many reasons why I am so unapologetic in my shipping. Because it is all there. Thank you for reminding me why I love these two so much! Have a great day, maybe next time you can message me off anon.

(And thanks to all who got to the end of this almost dissertation, this is my testament, I love you all fellow bedannibal fans!)

#bedannibal #bedelia du maurier #hannibal lecter #anonymous #asks #anon hate is great sometimes #reference for future anons

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rajpersaud · 3 years

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Associate Professor at Suicide Research Unit discusses Meghan Markle Interview

You can also listen to this interview on a free app on iTunes and Google Play Store entitled 'Raj Persaud in conversation', which includes a lot of free information on the latest research findings in psychology, psychiatry, neuroscience and mental health, plus interviews with top experts from around the world. Download it free from these links. Don't forget to check out the bonus content button on the app.

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Thomas Niederkrotenthaler is associate professor at the Suicide Research Unit at the Institute of Social Medicine, Center for Public Health, Medical University of Vienna. He is the co-chair of the International Association for Suicide Prevention's Media and Suicide Special Interest Group.

Reacting to suicidal revelations - is Piers Morgan right?

Research on suicide reporting suggests a surprising effect of Meghan's interview

by Dr Raj Persaud

Piers Morgan, a controversial TV host, has now left his national broadcasting position after expressing strong disbelief over Meghan’s confessions of suicidal thinking in her interview with Oprah Winfrey.

BBC News reports that Piers Morgan continues to stand by his criticism of the Duchess of Sussex. Ofcom, a regulator of broadcasting in the UK, is investigating his comments after receiving 41,000 complaints from the British public.

The duchess apparently formally complained to ITV about Morgan's remarks. It is reported that she raised concerns about how Piers Morgan's sentiments affect the issue of mental health, and what it might do to others contemplating suicide.

Is Meghan correct in her reported analysis? Or is Piers Morgan right to stand by his comments?

Or, in discussing suicide during an Oprah Winfrey interview, did she in fact make it more likely that others will self-harm?

Media reporting of suicidal behaviour has been found to contribute to an increase in suicidal thinking and actual suicides in the population. At this point Piers Morgan may argue the duchess is wrong to criticise him, and has only herself to blame, if there is a spike in suicides following the interview.

Recent research found that Google searches for “How to kill yourself” significantly increased after the release of ‘13 Reasons Why’, a popular Netflix American teen drama on the aftermath of high school student's suicide. The study calculated there were 900 000 to 1.5 million more searches than expected, for that time of year, in just over two weeks following the release of the series.

Another study, published in the Journal of the American Academy of Child & Adolescent Psychiatry in February 2020, estimated there were 195 additional suicide deaths among 10- to 17-year-old youths between April 1 and December 31, 2017, following the series’ release.

One of the first studies to investigate this effect, analysed 34 newspaper stories that reported on suicides, and found a 2.51% increase in suicide during the month of the publicity.

More worrying still, about the possible repercussions of the extensive reporting of Meghan’s suicidal thinking worldwide, is that, research by Professor Steven Stack, an expert on the sociology of suicide, based at Wayne State University, USA, found that studies measuring the presence of an entertainment celebrity in a suicide press report, are over 5 times more likely to find a copycat effect, while studies focusing on female suicide, were almost 5 times more likely to report a copycat effect, than other research investigating the impact of suicide reporting in the press.

Another example reported by Steven Stack is that in the year of the publication of a book which focused on self-harm via a particular method, suicide by that specific recommended method, increased 313% in New York City. In almost one third of cases a copy of the book was found at the scene of the suicide.

On average, following the media reporting of a suicide, approximately one third of persons involved in subsequent suicidal behavior appear to have seen the reporting of that suicide and may be copycat suicides.

The suicide of actress Marilyn Monroe was associated with a 12% increase in suicide.

One theory as to why reporting of a celebrity killing themselves or feeling suicidal, according to Professor Steven Stack, is that the vulnerable suicidal person may reason, ‘If a Marilyn Monroe with all her fame and fortune cannot endure life, why should I?’

Copycat suicides following media reporting of self-harm has been termed the ‘Werther Effect’, following a notorious historical incident after the publication in 1774 of a popular novel in which the hero kills himself. Entitled, The Sorrows of Young Werther the book by Goethe was rumoured to be responsible for a subsequent epidemic of suicide in young people. European authorities were so worried about its impact, that the book was banned in Copenhagen, Italy and Leipzig.

Goethe is reported to have commented on the phenomenon; “My friends … thought that they must transform poetry into reality, imitate a novel like this in real life and, in any case, shoot themselves; and what occurred at first among a few took place later among the general public …”

However, now new research suggests that, in fact, Meghan Markle in talking about suicide, may have indeed performed a positive service in terms of suicide prevention.

The study entitled, ‘Role of media reports in completed and prevented suicide: Werther v. Papageno effects’, refers to a ‘Papageno Effect’, which the authors claim may be the opposite of the ‘Werther Effect’, and happens when suicide rates go down following a particular kind of self-harm publicity.

The ‘Papageno Effect’, the authors explain, is based on Papageno's overcoming of a suicidal crisis in Mozart's opera ‘The Magic Flute’. If media reporting has a suicide-protective impact this should now be referred to as the ‘Papageno Effect’ the authors argue. In Mozart's opera, Papageno becomes suicidal upon fearing the loss of his beloved Papagena; however, he refrains from suicide because of three boys who draw his attention to alternative coping strategies.

Thomas Niederkrotenthaler and Gernot Sonneck from the Medical University of Vienna, Austria, led a team who analysed all 497 suicide-related print media reports from the 11 largest Austrian nationwide newspapers, including the term suicide, between 1 January and 30 June 2005.

Reporting of individuals thinking about suicide (not accompanied by attempted or completed suicide) was associated with a decrease in national suicide rates. This study suggests that media items on suicidal thinking, perhaps as described by Meghan in her recent interview, formed a distinctive class of articles, which have a low probability of being potentially harmful.

The study, published in the British Journal of Psychiatry found that in marked contrast, media stories attempting to dispel popular public myths about suicide, in other words articles that you would have thought would be helpful, and were intended to be helpful as regards suicide, were associated with increases in suicide rates.

Other articles associated with increases in suicide rates include stories where the main focus was on suicide research, items containing contact information for a public support service and also the reporting of expert opinions.

In other words, all the previous so-called expert opinion of how the media ought to report suicide was not actually linked to drops in suicide rates, but instead increases.

The authors conclude that the actual reporting of suicidal thinking may contribute to preventing suicide. Therefore, it follows that whatever Piers Morgan may think or believe about the Meghan interview, the latest scientific research suggests she may have performed a public service in drawing attention to suicidal thinking.

One theory as to why this might be the case include the suggestion that reporting someone thinking about suicide enhances identification with the reported individual, and thus highlights the reported outcome as ‘going on living’.

This research suggests a new public health strategy as regards suicide prevention. This may be most effective when articles are published on individuals who refrained from adopting suicidal plans, and instead adopted positive coping mechanisms, despite suffering adverse circumstances.

The authors refer to this kind of press story as ‘Mastery of Crisis’. One example they quote: ‘Before [Tom Jones] had his first hit, he thought about suicide… and wanted to jump in front of an Underground train in London… In 1965, before he made the charts with “It's not unusual”, he thought for a second: “If I just take a step to the right, then it'll all be over”.’

Whatever else you may think of her, or the interview, the key question becomes, did Meghan exhibit ‘Mastery Of Crisis’?

REFERENCES

Piers Morgan stands by Meghan criticism after Good Morning Britain exit https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/entertainment-arts-56343768

Internet Searches for Suicide Following the Release of 13 Reasons Why. Ayers JW, Althouse BM, Leas EC, Dredze M, Allem J. JAMA Intern Med. 2017;177(10):1527–1529. doi:10.1001/jamainternmed.2017.3333

Association between the release of Netflix's 13 Reasons Why and suicide rates in the United States: an interrupted times series analysis. Bridge, J, Greenhouse, JB, Ruch, D, Stevens, J, Ackerman, J, Sheftall, A, et al. J Am Acad Child Adolesc Psychiatry 2019; 28 Apr (doi: 10.1016/j.jaac.2019.04.020).

Suicide in the Media: A Quantitative Review of Studies Based on Nonfictional Stories. Steven Stack. Suicide and Life-Threatening Behavior 35(2) April 2005, 121-133

Role of media reports in completed and prevented suicide: Werther v. Papageno effects. Thomas Niederkrotenthaler, Martin Voracek, Arno Herberth, Benedikt Till, Markus Strauss, Elmar Etzersdorfer, Brigitte Eisenwort and Gernot Sonneck. British Journal of Psychiatry, 197(3), 234-243. doi:10.1192/bjp.bp.109.074633

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