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emeritusemeritus · 1 year ago

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You think you know someone. [Fred Weasley x Reader]

Title: You think you know someone.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Timeline: OOTP- canon and timelines altered for purposes of the story. Some bits have been exaggerated for artistic purposes. Based more on the films than the books. Reader joins DA but what if instead of Cho ratting them out, it’s you?

Summary: You had everything during your time at Hogwarts- good friends, Fred Weasley as your boyfriend and a promising future, until Dolores Umbridge turns up.

Warnings: This one turned out a little dark. Mentions of injury, torture, bullying, wounds, blood. Umbridge is a bitch. Snape is a bully. Use of unforgivable curses. Punishment. Kissing, pranks, swearing. Dumbledore’s Army and resistant forces. Brief mentions of Voldemort and probable war. Pet names: baby, sweetheart, princess. Not beta read. Happy ending I promise.

Word count: 9.3k (I feel like I’ve written a novel here)

This work is gifted to @kellyxo1 thanks to the wonderful request that I couldn’t turn down! I’m sorry it’s taken me a while to get this out but it’s been a complete labour of love and I hope you like it!💕

You knew Dolores Umbridge was trouble the moment you spotted her in the Great Hall, her gaudy pink outfit and matching pink cheeks made her stick out like a sore thumb amongst the classic, muted colour pallet you knew to be Hogwarts. Her smile unnerved you, the cold expression in her eyes never once matching the infallible twisted, sadistic smile that so often painted her face. Everything about her rang alarm bells in your mind.

Fred and George had been sitting either side of you at the banquet table in the Great Hall as she took centre stage and delivered her speech about being very good friends, as ominous and foreboding as it seemed.

"That's likely," the twins had mumbled, resting their heads on their hands, elbows on the table as a small act of rebellion against the airs and graces she clearly put on. You'd subconsciously scooted closer to Fred when she stood, reaching for his spare hand under the table that he'd offered you, sensing a little of your discomfort. Fred was always acutely aware of your emotions, able to read you like a book, you supposed it was a natural consequence of being together for so long.

You'd met on the first day of Hogwarts when you'd stepped into the train compartment he shared with George, locked eyes and the rest was history. You'd been dating since your second year, both of you unable to deny the childlike crushes and stolen glances of your attraction and as you grew up, you grew together. Now you were in your last year, with big plans ahead of Fred and George's business which you'd planned to help them with initially and bigger promises of moving in together in the flat above the shop. The natural progression of a happy relationship and an exciting prospect that kept you motivated to finish school on a high.

The atmosphere at Hogwarts was different this year: understandably tense and foreboding, not just because of Cedric's death and the rumoured return of Voldemort but of the disquiet around Harry's claims and the propagandistic reporting from the Daily Prophet refuting Harry's claims. It seemed everyone was divided into wether they believed Harry or if they believed what they were reading in the media. It was evident that the ministry had worked hard to deny and deflect Harry'a claims, disparaging and slandering him publicly. Of course the arrival of a certain Pink adorned dementor didn't help things, especially when she, as new defense against the dark arts teacher, did away with the old curriculum and removed any defensive, practical teaching in favour of simple theory- which would be of no use in real life situations, of which you were all undoubtedly facing. Then the educational decrees began where she was appointed Hogwarts' high inquisitor and sought to change anything she was as unsatisfactory, backed by the ministry, which seemed to propel the whole school further and further away from what it should be teaching and how it should be preparing it's students for what was inevitably happening.

"She can't do this! It's ridiculous, George is fuming, never mind Fred," you overheard Ginny say as you were about to take a seat for dinner but quickly stopped as you gave her a questioning look, not knowing what she meant, her eyes focusing in on your frozen form.

"What?"

"You haven't seen the new decree?" She asks curiously, placing down her fork onto the plate. You shook your head briefly before walking quickly out of the hall, dinner be damned to examine the wall of decrees, trying to fix your eyes onto the new plaque on the wall.

Educational Decree No. 30: All Weasley products will be banned immediately.

You rushed upstairs to the common room, split in two minds about wether they would be there or on the quidditch pitch, trying to expel their frustrations... until you remembered that broom flying had been outlawed unless part of a lesson or during Quidditch games, as few and far between as they were coming due to the constant cancelling.

When you found them in their dorm, George was pacing the room, kicking the wooden frame of his bed after every circuit whilst Fred sat perched on his own bed, face downcast and eyes filled with anger.

You knew it wouldn't stop them, nothing ever did, but the business they forged from nothing had suffered for a while as students were afraid of the repercussions of being searched and found with their products.

"Can't sell my products, can't fly a broom, can't even kiss my own girlfriend unless I find a way to snog her from six inches away!" Fred had been furious and rightly so but there seemed to be no hope in sight.

It seemed no one was unaffected by the drastic measures Umbridge was taking and you were all facing the consequences of the increasing restrictions, in multiple ways. You'd been given detention for the stupidest things, including casting a spell to undo the jinx Malfoy had placed on Neville one afternoon, another leg lock jinx that you'd fixed for him, received another for the muggle book in your possessions and another for deigning to be within six inches of George. The punishment was cruel and twisted but you'd hidden it from Fred, knowing how protective he was and how he'd act out to retaliate against her which would only land him in worse trouble. She seemed to focus on you in particular, for whatever reason you weren't sure but she hardly hid her distaste for you publicly. Fred said it was because of your connection to him and George but you weren't sure, it seemed more personal than that.

It had been Hermione's brilliant idea to forge a sort of rebellion in order to actually learn the practical side of defence and you'd been eager to sign up after attending the first meeting at the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade, knowing that you had to arm yourself in whatever way you could, the feeling of unease at the current climate always looming overhead. You'd been pleasantly surprised by the turn out, seeing many familiar faces as you'd walked hand in hand with Fred into the small, freezing cold room as you waited for Harry, Ron and Hermione. Cho, Luna, Neville, Ginny, Michael and so many others from Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff had turned out to fight for the cause and as you looked around the room of friends and familiars, it was evident that this could work.

You'd signed the parchment Hermione had brought with no hesitation, lining up between Fred and Ginny, clearly marking your name under his in the pencil provided. As you walked back to the castle in a group, Fred's arm around you and his hat in your head to keep the cold away from your ears, you felt determined and inspired to make this work. You'd just need to find somewhere to practice away from the prying eyes of the inquisitor.

Then came Educational Decree No.68: All student organisations are henceforth be disbanded. Any student in noncompliance will be expelled.

This time, you weren't angered or afraid of the newly instated restriction but instead felt empowered to rebel. Neville, in a feat of brilliance, had discovered the room of requirement one Saturday afternoon as he made his way down the seventh floor corridor. It was perfect, exactly what was needed, and you'd all wasted no time in putting the room to good use.

Within just two weeks, you'd mastered disarming spells, stunning spells, hexes, jinxes and defensive charms that you'd never thought you could do. Ginny had proven herself to be incredibly skilled and you'd stood watching in amazement as two magpies flying around the room, both coming from your boyfriend and his twin. The twins had taken to placing bets, mostly against Ron, all of you in good spirits about finally being able to do magic again. You and Fred took full advantage of being shielded away from the eyes of Hogwarts and had taken to lingering in the room after the sessions so you could be close to each other, to kiss freely and be intimate again. It had seemed so long, so cruel to have to keep away from him, at least in public and as you watched him master spells so effortlessly and looking so deliciously hot as he did it, often with messy hair and rolled up sleeves, it was exactly what you needed to relieve yourself of the building frustrations.

Fun and laughter had once again returned to Hogwarts, though shielded from the regulating eyes, it was just like before. The twins had even taken to pranking again, no longer concerned by the changes, including giving Filch laced chocolates which made him erupt with giant, puss-filled boils on his face when he got too close to the scent of your secret gatherings.

Educational decree No. 82: All students will submit to questioning about suspected illicit activities.

Umbridge had began to gather students for an inquisitorial squad which would earn them credit for joining, most notably the Slytherin students that weaselled their way into Umbridge's good books. Most probably by being pure bloods. They took great pleasure in pulling up the younger students in particular for punishment or questioning and abused their powers frequently.

Then you returned to school after winter break and the news of the Azkaban breakout happened, constant storms were forecasted, Umbridge's cruel regime heightened. Everything felt so restrictive, so unnecessary, so twisted. The only place you found solace was during DA meetings when you could be yourself, free to act and perform as you wanted surrounded by your friends and boyfriend. Always alert at the imposing threat, knowing Filch was on to you all and the rest of the inquisitorial squad which only fuelled you to keep discreet.

It had been a regular day of classes until your DADA lesson where you'd been required by the toad to write an essay on the benefits of conversational reasoning as opposed to practical magic to handle disputes with half breeds and lower class species, such as centaurs. You'd almost immediately refused to write such things, particularly due to the disgusting terms used to class different species but also due to the ridiculous concept.

"I am teaching you verified way of effective communication, in which you do not have to use your wand," she defends with a sickeningly fake smirk.

"Or our brains by taking away our autonomy," you'd argued, not even under your breath.

"Are you questioning my methods of teaching miss y/l/n? By all means if you think you can do better I should like to see you try."

"Can't be hard, Professor Quirrel did a better job and he shared a head and a singular brain cell with Voldemort."

A murmur of concealed laughter burst from the students around you and for a singular moment you felt the victory of it, empowered even.

"Detention!" She's utterly outraged, her face turning a dangerous shade of fuchsia. You could feel the eyes on you, most notably your boyfriend and his twin from across the room but you didn't care. Since returning to school you'd been torn away from Fred, unable to be anywhere near each other and certainly not in a group with your friends as it would break at least three decrees. You were frustrated and had hit breaking point, anger simmering in you but why you didn't know. You'd completely had enough.

"It's a date Dolores," you said sarcastically with the sickliest smile you could muster. More snickers erupted around you and even a clap that sounded suspiciously like it came from the direction of your future brother in law.

"My office, now!" She screams, pointing with her pink tipped finger towards the door. You grabbed your stuff from the desk and walked out without a single look in anyone's direction. On your way to her office, you pulled the special coin from your pocket and checked over the date and time to check you had it right. There was a DA meeting later that evening and you'd hoped this would be over quickly so that you could still attend.

Only, that never happened. Instead you'd been tortured for hours in the cruelest of ways, repeatedly questioned over your involvement with the alleged group and had been forced to drink truth serum until the words had slipped out of your mouth. You'd had no control over it, no way of resisting any longer and with great shame, you'd told her about the room of requirement, completely unable to stop the words from coming out.

The inquisitorial squad was on you in mere moments, as soon as Umbridge had signalled them from outside the door and Malfoy's grubby hands were pulling your weak and exhausted body from the chair before you could even register the intrusion. The things you'd been through, the pain and the anguish, it was nothing compared to the fear you felt at the DA being discovered; you could only pray that you'd held out long enough so that the meeting was over.

"Where is it?!" Umbridge screamed into your face when you wouldn't disclose the exact location of the room of requirement, having already inadvertently let slip that the room was your meeting place. You gave her your darkest look, no longer feeling controlled by whatever she had obviously put in your tea. When she didn't get an answer, her hand struck you hard right across the cheek but you hardly flinched, hardly feeling the pain anymore.

"I know the way Ma'am," Filch said, his saggy face appearing around the corner creepily, his features twisting into a vulgar, perverse smile. You could hardly look at Umbridge's face as it twisted into a pleased, twisted grin as she fixed her jacket and allowed Filch to lead her. Malfoy grabbed hold of your robes tighter in his fist and you were dragged along with them until you reached the seventh floor.

You felt sick to your stomach, wanting to scream and cry, resist in anyway you could as you fought against Malfoy's hold but you were physically tired and weak. Crabbe had grabbed hold of the other side of you, your thrashing too much for Malfoy to hold down by himself and his hands were much tougher against your skin, no doubt leaving bruises in their wake. When the door to the room of requirement didn't appear, you felt hopeful that she'd realise you were lying, even if that meant horrendous consequences for you. There was no way of warning them, nothing you could do to allow them to flee, you'd have to watch as they were all caught redhanded. They'd think you ratted them out, your friends, the love of your life. You knew it was exactly what Umbridge wanted, to turn everyone against you- and she was undoubtedly going to get it.

"Bombarda Maxima," her eerily calm and squeaky voice rang out as she pointed her want at the wall. Your scream mixed in with the large bang as a giant hole was created in the wall, depris and dust flying everywhere.

When the dust cloud cleared, you were dragged off from the side viciously by Malfoy and Crabbe until you were presented in front of the Army- your friends. You didn't want to look up from your spot on the floor, still fighting against their holds on you but something made you look up. And then you met his eyes.

Fred had never looked at you that way, ever. The looks of love and adoration you'd become accustomed to over the years, the playfulness and the intimate looks, it was all gone. The look in his eyes would haunt you forever, the coldness, betrayal and the resentment and it was explicitly clear what his expression told you.

He believed that you ratted them out, believed that you could ever do that to him, to them all.

You had to look away, desperate to see any hope that someone believed you, that someone sympathised with the torment you'd endured but as your eyes travelled across to George, you stopped short. He looked furious with you, disgusted and despite everything you'd been through in the past few hours, you'd receive no sympathy or chance to explain yourself to the people you loved.

You were dragged away as Umbridge dealt with the Army, bestowing threats and punishments upon them that you couldn't hear. You no longer fought against the holds of the Slytherins but instead went willingly, feeling guilty, shame and simply dirty for your role in all of this, even if it wasn't your fault.

Members of the ministry arrived not too long after, having been alerted prior to the discovery of the DA. You couldn't look at Kingsley, much too distraught to see his look of disgust at you, no doubt planning to tell the Order what you'd done. Harry was ushered in not long after having been caught in the skirmish. His newfound hatred of you seemed to radiate off him as he stood beside you and this alone made you want to scream and cry out of frustration, tears welling in your eyes that you wouldn't allow to spill.

The final straw was when Percy walked in, without so much as a glimmer of recognition towards you and took over from Malfoy to restrain you and Harry, keeping the shoulder of your robe balled up in his hand. The minister ordered him to dispatch an owl to the Daily Prophet and he diligently nodded, trying to manoeuvre you along with him.

"Get off me Weatherby," you demanded viciously, fighting against his hold and managing to break free, only to be stopped as you all looked on in amazement as Dumbledore disappeared out of sight in a magnificent display.

You'd hoped after that, you'd be able to get Harry alone, to explain yourself to him, to tell him what had happened but he'd completely avoided you, blanked you entirely. You hardly blamed him but you needed to explain, to clear your name. Umbridge then commanded Harry to join her in the hall where the punishment was being conducted, all of the DA together.

You'd been permitted to return to your dorm after the meeting had finished but you stood outside of the hall doors, desperate to see Fred and explain yourself, hoping he could bring you at least an ounce of comfort. Your head was pounding from the pain earlier and the marks on your arms were throbbing, sore and weeping though you fought not to look at them, knowing the pain would only be worse when you saw what was tormenting you. You couldn't go to Madame pomfrey, Umbridge had made that very clear and so you suffered in complete silence until you could reach out for your friends.

You lingered outside of the door for what felt like hours, the anxiety and the nerves you felt seemingly freezing time. When the doors opened, the members of the DA began pouring out with soured looks on their faces which only heightened when they caught sight of you. It was never hard to spot Fred and George amongst a crowd, their towering height easily distinguishable amongst a sea of people.

The look on everyone's face was near identical, the disgust and the resentment evident in their eyes as they spotted you but none clearer than the twins. George looked like he detested you, his face scrunched into a look of utter distaste, eyes glaring into you as he walked past without a care. Fred looked away, ignoring your presence completely as he glided past you without muttering a single word, his face stone cold and void of expression.

"Freddie, please," you said weakly and emotionally, with tears in your eyes, turning around in the spot as he walked past you. But nothing, he didn't turn, didn't react, simply walked away without so much as a single glance.

"Harry," you implored, taking a step towards him but he too blanked you again, pushing past you and walking quickly up the steps to avoid you.

You stood alone in the cold and empty corridor, feeling more isolated and alone than you ever had and finally allowed yourself to cry. Silent tears fell down your cheeks, shoulders sagging as you cried for everything you had undoubtedly lost, for the treatment you'd received and for the pain you still felt in your head and arms. Finding a spot in a hidden corner, you finally allowed yourself to pull up the sleeve of your robe and look upon the damage that Umbridge had inflicted with her sadistic quill. It was horrendous, an onslaught of slurs and vicious words etched into your body, no doubt intentionally done to leave the scars as a permanent reminder.

You sobbed your heart out in that little nook between two cold, stone pillars as you tried desperately to heal the marks but no spell was strong enough even to numb it in your weakened state.

You eventually made your way to Gryffindor tower, stepping through the portrait and finding the common room practically deserted. You sighed and walked up the stone steps to your dorm, only to find that the door had been shut and your blanket and pillow had been thrown outside of it, a clear sign you were not welcome even within your own dorm. You were painfully exhausted and wanted nothing more than to curl up in your bed and cry into your pillow until you eventually passed out. But you didn't even deserve that.

With a heavy sigh, you collected your blanket and pillow and trudged down the steps back towards the common room, eyes blurry through a mixture of tiredness and tears. You stopped short the second you crossed the last step, seeing Fred and George step in through the portrait hole, your stomach flipping nervously as you anticipated a barrage of insults or horrible pranks, their allegiance turning from you now.

"Fred, Freddie please," you begged, dropping your makeshift bedding to walk towards him, trying to reach out for him. You paused as you saw the redness on the back of his left hand, a clearly fresh punishment, 'I must not break rules'. George intercepts immediately and barges past you, blocking you from getting to Fred as he turns his twin away from you.

"You think you know someone," George mutters as he gently nudges Fred up the stairs, sending you a vicious glare before he walks up after him, once again leaving you alone. Fred didn't even spare a single glance at you, not even to recoil away.

You curled up in a corner armchair as soon as the tears appeared, pathetically dragging the blanket over you and cried until you fell asleep in the uncomfortable chair.

The two weeks that followed were the absolute worst weeks of your life. Umbridge had stripped you of everything you loved in one fell swoop, turned everyone against you and left the place you called home feeling miserable and lonely. You deserved it, you knew that, having ratted them out. You'd antagonised her and now had to live through then consequences, as cruel and twisted as they were.

The glares from everyone you had once called friends hadn't stopped, especially from George, which hurt the most. Fred had outright ignored any effort you'd made to reach out to him, no matter how desperate you'd sounded or how hard you'd tried to make him understand. He didn't care. He believed the lie.

The first week you'd tried to take your meals with the rest of the Gryffindors but it was made abundantly clear to you that you were not permitted nor welcome to join your friends and had been cruelly banished to the end of the table, beside the first years. The second week you'd stopped attending meals at all, not able to push through the shame and embarrassment of being cast away, exiled from your group. Lessons were monotonous and any down time was utterly excruciating as you were left enclosed with the other Gryffindors, namely your ex boyfriend, though no one would make any contact with you. You'd tried to sleep in your dorm but the girls had done nearly everything to prevent you from actually sleeping, talking loudly, setting off whizzbangs inside your curtains and had even transfigured your blanket a few times to varying degrees of horrid things. At the end of the night when you were certain everyone was asleep, usually very late, you'd creep down to the common room and huddle into your uncomfortable chair to sleep, only to be woken mere hours later when the first of the easy risers woke up. Your life was hell.

"There's just something I don't understand," Hermione says as they all stand on the bridge, the golden trio, Ginny and the Twins, all wrapped up in warm clothes and sweaters as they discuss the changes put into place since Umbridge had taken over as Headmistress. Naturally, the conversation had diverted to you, something Fred was entirely displeased about. The group turn to Hermione after her words, intrigued by the change in tone. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes before opening them again, as if building the strength to say her next sentence.

"I jinxed the enrolment parchment, for Dumbledore's Army," she admits, not quite meeting the gaze of the group around her. "It was purely a preventative measure, incase we were betrayed by one of our own. The person who disclosed any secrets would be jinxed to break out in spots, to spell out 'sneak' across their forehead, so we knew who the betrayer was. Y/N didn't have that, she never even had a single spot."

"Blimey Hermione," Ron says a little breathlessly, disbelieving she'd have actually gone that far.

"I know," she says a little defensively, "I just can't work out how she got around it!"

"Maybe she wrote her name wrong? Did she know about the jinx?" Harry suggests but Hermione shook her head, at the very same time that Ginny replied.

"I was behind her, I saw her write her name. It was right."

"Maybe the jinx didn't work?" Harry suggests carefully but stops himself when he receives a forceful glare from Hermione at the very notion of her failure.

"What does it matter? She dobbed us in wether or not she's covered in spots!" Ron says rather harshly, leaning against the wooden bannister.

Fred can't listen anymore, completely overwhelmed by the conversation and the thought of you betraying them. He turns and walks off back towards the castle without so much as a word to the others, not even his twin, and ignores their calls of his name as they watch him fade into the distance.

Spotting you sitting alone in the corner of the room when he returns to the common room, he frowns to himself. He'd known you since the moment you stepped on the Hogwarts express and had loved you for nearly just as long. It was wrong to see you sat alone, so sad and without the usual spark you naturally emitted. Everyone had always been drawn to you, your humour and wit, your dazzling smile, the fact you made everyone aroun you feel comfortable and valued. Too many boys had been drawn to you for his liking but you'd never even given them the time of day, never once wavering in your loyalty to him or ever made him doubt that it was him you wanted. You'd spent years supporting him, helping him and George develop their products, cheering for him loudly at every Quidditch game and had wormed your way into the hearts of every single one of his family members. Secretly, it crushed him to see you so lonely and tired, even if he still felt the sting of your betrayal.

It didn't add up, though he wouldn't disclose this to any of the more angered members of the group, why you would do such a thing. You'd been excited to start the DA, had joined in enthusiastically, kept the secret for so long and most of all you completely despised Umbridge. He couldn't deny that he still loved you, even though he was conflicted with his feelings now, he still held out hope that this would all go away, that there was a reasonable explanation but his anger wouldn't allow him to listen. It killed him to push you away, wanting nothing more than for things to return to normal but he felt a deep sense of betrayal that he couldn't shift.

"Fred?" He heard from behind him, pulling him out of his musings making him realise that he'd been staring at you all this time as he turned towards the person addressing him. Her name was Emery Atkinson, a Gryffindor from the year below that he'd never really acknowledged or spent much time with.

"Yeah?" He replies politely though he couldn't escape the edge of irritation after being pulled away from his thoughts. He watches as the girl giggles as soon as he acknowledges her and tucks a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

"Oh good I got the right twin!" She giggles, ignorant to the blank look she received from Fred. "I was wondering if you had some canary creams I could buy? My brother loves them and it's his birthday soon. Your inventions are so clever, I don't know how you and George find the time between your studies and Quidditch, it must be exhausting. You're so good as Quidditch, I always cheer you on. Plus your girlfriend, but I heard that you weren't together anymore right?"

Truthfully, Fred had only registered the first half of her speech, tuning out after Canary Creams but his attention had been drawn back at the mention of you. He can't help but feel that little stab of sadness at the mention of you, especially someone referring to you as his girlfriend, or Ex rather. In the back of his mind he wonders if you heard that, from your short distance away, he hoped not.

"I still can't believe it, why would she do that? If I was with you I wouldn't even dream of ruining it." She sounds faux-scandalised and quite frankly, rather bitchy as he reaches out to touch the sleeve of his sweater. Fred doesn't humour her and instead takes half a step back subtly, reaching to scratch the back of his head as a discreet way of getting her off.

"Er, yeah I think we have some creams leftover, I'll send George over with some later, alright?"

"Not you?" She says with a sad little face, trying out her best puppy dog eyes that have absolutely no affect on him.

"George deals with the confectionery," he says a little too quickly; which is a complete lie. "Sorry, I've got somewhere to be but I'll let him know you're interested in buying."

He breaks away, giving her a forced but polite smile and a brief, parting wave but it's awkward and he's inwardly cringing as soon as he puts his hand down. Turning to where you had been sat in the chair, he notices you've disappeared and he is instantly overcome with a wave of guilt. You'd heard it all.

—

The next few days passed in blur for Fred, his mind wandering between what he was doing and thoughts of you, like he couldn't concentrate for more than a minute. He felt so conflicted within himself, made worse by the time spent apart from you, the longing beginning to set in. He'd never really been apart from you for very long, at most only a few weeks during the summer holidays and even then you'd have sent numerous letters by now, keeping in contact as much as you could until you were back beside each other. Now it was just torture, having you so close but so far away and the knowledge that he was the one that had pushed you away only furthered his guilt and internal conflict.

Fred was in a terrible mood, battling his thoughts, surviving on very little sleep and now the threat of her sadistic punishment was the icing on the cake of a really crap day when he and George had been forced to Umbridge's office. Harry had been caught trying to use the floo, to alert the order or escape and had been caught red handed by Umbridge. Each member of the DA had been frogmarched into the office, shoved and restrained by members of the inquisitorial squad and each member looked as uneasy as the next. His stomach turned when he saw Ginny held down by Goyle and he fought to get out of Graham Montegue's hold but it was useless when Umbridge mindlessly cast a spell to subdue him.

Harry was sat in the chair in the centre of the room, the first to be questioned with Umbridge hovering dangerously close to him, her temper boiling over as she speaks frantically in his face.

"You were going to Dumbledore weren't you?" She says, leaning down threateningly in front of Harry.

"No," Harry responds.

"Liar!" She screams back and in a move that shocks each member of the DA, she pulls back her hand and slaps Harry hard around the face, the harsh sound echoing through the otherwise silent room.

She pauses for a moment, simply glaring at Harry until her face twists into a sick, twisted grin as she straightens up and composes herself, each movement carefully thought out as she turns her back to him.

"Very well, you give me no choice Potter," she says with an even cadence, her tone dangerously low. "As this is an issue of Ministry security, you leave me with... no alternative, unless Professor Snape arrives within moments."

Fred feels like he can hardly breathe, the tension and unease in the air so thick that the room feels like it's getting smaller by the second. The unpredictability of the woman before them was alarming, the dangerous undertone of her voice despite her light and breezy tone was almost scarier than his worst nightmare.

"The cruciatus curse ought to loosen your tongue," she says, adjusting her pink jacket.

"That's illegal," Hermione states in outrage but Umbridge hardly flinches. Instead, she reaches out for the photo frame of the minister on her desk and pauses briefly to look at it before turning it over and lying it down flat on the desk, so that Fudge could not see her next move. She straightens herself and extends her wand, only to stop when Snape appears by the door, his eyes fixed to her outstretched wand that was pointed directly at Harry.

"You sent for me Headmistress?"

"Snape, yes," she says, taking a step back and everyone in the room exhales, relaxing only slightly. "The time has come for answers, wether he wants to give them to me or not," she says, her eyes flicking to Harry only briefly.

"Might I suggest against the cruciatus curse this time headmistress," he says evenly and carefully, "the consequences of such an audience might be... disagreeable. In fact I would hesitate in conducting any of the prior disciplinary methods in this instance.""

This time? She'd used the cruciatus curse before? And on a student? Prior disciplinary methods? Fred thinks, did he mean the quill?

"Very well," she says after a moment of pondering, her arm falling to her side as she relents, eyes wandering over the all too familiar Quill that sits proudly on her desk before her gaze shifts back to Snape. "Have you brought the veritaserum?"

"I'm afraid you've used up all my stores, the last of it interrogating Miss y/l/n."

Snape carries on speaking but Fred doesn't hear a single word, blood rushing to his ears as his heart pounds. He feels like he's received a stray bludger straight to the chest, his stomach dropping with fresh shame, sadness and overwhelming guilt.

Suddenly it all made sense. She'd tortured you into giving out the information- the cruciatus curse, veritaserum, what else had she done to you?

He couldn't help but let out a dry sob at the information, sensing everyone's eyes on him at the news. He struggled against the holds with everything in him, needing to fix what he'd broken.

He'd believed them, so quickly, believed that you could have betrayed them like that. The pain you must have felt, the loneliness and the guilt and then after your whole ordeal he had cast you aside, pushed you away and never given you a single chance to explain.

He eventually turned to look at George who looked utterly broken by the news, his regretful inner thoughts so evident upon his face. Each member of the DA looked a mixture of guilty, sheepish and sad, realising how wrong they'd been about you and what they'd done to someone who had once been their friend, someone who had suffered so much for all of them.

The meeting seemed to go abhorrently slowly until Umbridge left with Harry and Hermione on a sort of mission based upon a quickly constructed lie and Fred didn't waste a single moment before turning around on the spot and punching Graham Montegue straight in the face as soon as Umbridge had left. Seizing the momentary upper hand, the remaining members of the DA turned on the inquisitorial squad and fired an array of jinxes and spells at them in order to get away.

"Fred, Go!" George had urged whilst stunning Crabbe, allowing Ginny to step free. Malfoy fought back but he was quickly matched by Angelina who covered for Fred, blocking the exit.

"Go, she needs you!" Angelina shouted as she sent a jinx flying towards Cassius Warrington's smug face.

Fred didn't hang about and immediately ran out of the office and towards the common room where he was praying you'd be. It was quiet on the main staircases, perhaps it seemed much quieter because of the lack of portraits and bare walls but even to the few people Fred passed, he offered no explanation nor cared about what they thought. He needed to find you.

"Y/n!" He said bursting through the portrait hole and scanning the common room for you, checking the chair you'd so often occupied but found nothing except a couple of bewildered faces at his strange outburst.

"Y/n?" He called again, walking up the stairs towards the dormitories but received no reply. In his haste, he accidentally misstepped as he climbed up to the girls dorm and nearly triggered the blocking slide to appease but fortunately managed to regain his balance and stress carefully over the path he'd taken so many times before, the secret message in the steps that allowed him to breach the rules.

He threw open your dormitory door and stopped blankly when he found nothing. Your bed looked like it hadn't been slept in, there was hardly any of your things around the bed and the room. Had he come to the wrong room?

"Fred?" Your voice said shyly from behind him and he whipped around to see you looking up at him hesitantly from near the door, holding a few things in your arms and your robe tied tightly around your chest.

"Y/n," he says with a sigh of relief, moving forwards quickly to reach out to you but once again stopping short as he noticed you visibly flinch at his sudden movement. Suddenly the overwhelming agony of guilt and regret hit him anew and he vowed to slow down, hoping not to scare you away.

"I'm so sorry," he said, voice breaking slightly as he looked at your tired, sullen face and those wide, scared eyes. He'd never seen you look so broken and it killed him.

"I didn't, I don't ," he stutters, dropping to sit on the side of your bed. "You haven't been sleeping here have you?"

There's a minor pause and he wonders if you're actually going to reply to him, if he even deserves it, until you step forward and place your things down onto the bedside table. He watches in silence, noting the large book and a few packaged bandages that slip onto the table as you gingerly take a seat beside him, your feet no longer touching the floor.

"Kind of hard to when you're banished by the rest of your dorm," you reply quietly. He can't detect the tone of your voice, expecting it to be sarcastic or unhappy but it actually sounds flat and completely void of emotion.

"The chair," he realises, "you've been sleeping in that chair?" He's slightly bewildered and profoundly ashamed now, not having clicked until now that you'd been there early in a morning and late in the night, much later than you'd ever typically stayed up before. You shrug and turn your attention away, though you're yet to actually meet his eyes.

He drags a deep breath in through his teeth, resisting the urge to hang his head low on his shoulders.

"Y/n, I am so sorry, I, I don't even have words," he says, stumbling over his words- something so uncharacteristic for him that it briefly startles you. "You didn't deserve this, even if you had told Umbridge about us, no one deserves this. We were all so shocked that it could be you, of all people. We never stopped to think of why," he pauses again, steadying himself. "Snape admitted what she did to you, she tried to use it on Harry but he stopped him."

"But the quill was broken? How could she use it on Harry?" You say, finally looking up with a look of complete confusion.

"What quill?" Fred asks, completely lost himself, "the black quills? I meant the cruciatus curse, she, I mean she, on you, didn't she?"

Your silence says everything and he has to close his eyes and steady his breathing at your silent confirmation.

"What quill?" Fred feels a little bolder now and reaches for you but you pull your arm back and place it in your lap, trying not to wince as you catch the healing scars. "This one?"

He holds out his hand and shows you the faint markings from his punishment, 'I must not break rules' barely visible now. He frowns when you shake your head but don't offer any other explanation. He's frustrated that he's not getting anywhere but it's internal and he knows it's not your fault, he just wishes he could help, or go back in time and fix everything.

"Tell me, please," he says, keeping his eyes locked in the side of your face, trying to urge you to look at him. "What happened in that detention?"

"It doesn't matter," you say quickly, hopping down off the bed and stepping over to your trunk to get a fresh shirt from the laundry pile, knowing it would need changing. "I've got to shower."

You go to turn away but Fred lunges for you and grabs your arm to stop you from leaving, making you cry out in pain as soon as his fingers make contact with the tender skin. As soon as the shock wears off, he frowns, looking down at your arm before looking up to your face, seeing tears falling down your cheeks.

"Please baby, please just tell me," he says, voice breaking as his own tears well up in his eyes.

"She told you about the veritaserum?" You ask, assuming anyway and Fred nods. "Then you know what you need to know."

"No, I don't," he says quickly, trying to think of ways to stop you leaving without hurting you. "She used an unforgivable curse on you! Gave you truth serum, you cried when I touched your arm and you have bandages on your bedside table, please just tell me what happened!"

"Fine," you say, pulling your arm back. "You want to know? She tried to force it out of me, tried to get me to drink the stupid tea but I wouldn't. When that didn't work she pulled out that little stupid quill and wrote anything she wanted all over me. You wanted to know about the bandages? Fine," you said viciously, clawing at the fastening of your robe. Underneath was your once crisp, white shirt that had a considerable amount of red blood staining the sleeve. You didn't stop undressing, all but ripping the buttons away as you fought to show Fred what was underneath.

Bandages littered your forearms, with blood oozing out the sides. Fred's frozen as he looks at the bandages on your body, sick to his stomach already.

"Did you know Snape is a skilled occlumens? I didn't, I do now. So after she was playing with that sadistic little quill, writing whatever she wanted into my skin, he enters my mind and shows me every single fear I've ever had, every nightmare. But I didn't say a word, not a single fucking word. Do you know what it's like to have visions forced into your own mind of your boyfriend dying in front of you repeatedly, over and over until you start to go mad? All whilst your skin is slashed open just to get you to talk? Only it didn't work, so she dropped the quill and picked up her wand. I've never felt closer to death in my life but still so far away from it. But I wouldn't talk. So she forced veritaserum in my mouth and I couldn't stop it, she got what she wanted no matter what I'd fought for. And the best part? They don't heal, not truly. Nothing I do stops it, like a constant reminder of what happened."

"Princess," Fred chokes out, tears streaming down his cheeks, fighting to hold back his sobs at your words.

"No, not princess," you say sternly, emotions all falling from your face. "Not anymore."

"Please, I want to make this right, anything I can do, I want to support you," he says, nearly begging. "I have to make this right, I can't lose you."

"No."

Your voice is harsh and stern, your face expressionless again. "You believed them so easily, you all did. You believed I could do that to you, without hesitation. You didn't let me explain, never even looked at me because you were so certain that I could have done it. I've been exiled, banished and forgotten by all of you I called friends without a single thought. So you and your stupid brother and the rest of Dumbledore's friggin army can go fuck yourselves, it's not my fight anymore."

Fred flinches as the door slams shut behind you and he's left to sob openly, his devastation consuming him. Eventually when he returns to his own dorm, George says nothing upon seeing his twin's stricken face and his curtains fully closing around the bed.

The next morning, Fred has already left the dorm by the time George wakes up and doesn't see him at all around the common room or the hall, though he's not surprised. But when he doesn't show to his lessons, George worries and goes in search for his twin with increasing worry. Eventually, he finds him in the library, pouring over an array of books from the restricted section, most of them about healing spells and anatomy.

"Freddie?"

When Fred looks up with red rimmed eyes and an intense look in his eyes, it's clear to George that Fred hadn't slept. "Whatever it is, let me help."

One week. It took one week of endlessly pouring over book after book until they finally found options.

It's early morning on a Saturday when Fred creeps down to the common room was before the sun has risen, seeing you hunched over in your chair. Angelina had told him that they'd apologised profusely to you and had accepted you back with open arms back to the dormitory but you'd simply walked away and carried on sleeping by the fire, not yet willing to forgive them for the treatment you'd endured.

"Y/n, y/n, wake up," he says quietly, carefully touching your shoulder, trying to avoid anywhere that he had seen bandaged.

"Freddie?" You ask sleepily and his heart soars with hope at the noise, the familiarity of it abs the softness of your voice so heartwarming.

"I have something to show you, me and George," he says lightly, waiting for you to wake up.

"Told you both to get fucked," you mumble, squashing any hope he had, but he perseveres.

"Just this once prince-y/n, please," he says quietly. You open your eyes, seeing him still dressed in his pyjamas, pleading with his eyes and looking so vulnerable that you relent and agree to whatever he had planned. Throwing back the blanket, you surprise a groan at the stiffness in your neck and diligently follow him back up the stairs towards his dorm, accepting his hand as he guides you. Your hand fits perfectly into his, just as it always had.

"Where's Lee?" You say as you walk into the dorm room, seeing only George who gives you a small but timid smile.

"Bunking with Ron," Fred says somewhat vaguely, gesturing for you to sit on his bed. The room looks exactly as you remember albeit slightly less dishevelled than you'd experienced previously, but you don't mention anything. Fred takes a seat beside you and George moves forward, grabbing a book from the chair beside his bed.

"We don't know if this will work," George says.

"But it's better than nothing," Fred finishes, gingerly reaching out for your hand.

"What?"

"The wounds," George says gently, "Fred told me, we just want to make them better. Might not get rid of them completely but it's worth a shot."

"Found this in an old healing book, it's a counter curse for wound healing by curse," Fred says, taking the book from George to show you. "Figured Umbridge's quill must have been cursed so this might work. Please let us help."

All it takes is a nod from you, albeit slightly hesitant but truthfully there was no one you trusted more than the twins, before at least.

You could hardly look them in the eyes as you pulled away the bandages, the vile words etched into your skin by her personal sadistic quill. You heard George inhale at the deepest cut along your inner right forearm but didn't react, knowing it would be shocking to anyone.

"Take my hand, if it hurts too much all you have to do is squeeze and we'll stop, okay baby?"

Biting down on your lip to stifle your cries, you hold Fred's hand tightly as George begins to cast the counter-curse, each of you watching on with rapt attention and slight amazement as the cuts begin to slowly knit together. It was working.

You whimper as he works over the deepest, the same one Fred had accidentally caught the week before and Fred's hand squeezes yours automatically for support.

"You're doing so well sweetheart, it'll be over soon I promise," he says quietly in your ear, comforting you in anyway he could.

After the last cut is sealed, George immediately drops down to sit onto his bed, his concentration and energy depleted from focusing so hard. You can't believe it as you look down at your arms, no longer seeing blood and only able to see the faintest of marks and redness where the wounds had once been. Only then do tears begin to fall from your eyes as you launch yourself towards Fred, throwing your arms around him in appreciation. He steadies himself after a moment of being caught off guard and holds you tightly against him, shushing you gently as you cry. His arms wrap around you so perfectly, so protectively and his smell comforts you like to no other, exactly as you remember.

"You did so well, so well, it's okay baby," he coos into your ear. You pull apart slowly and immediately walk over to George, pulling him into a hug though it's a lot less intimate.

"Thank you both so much," you sniffle.

"You're welcome," they answer at the same time, making you smile.

"We've missed you," George says after a moment. "I'm so sorry for what you went through and for what I said. I should have known it wasn't your fault, you've been my best friend for so long and I'm so ashamed of myself for how easily I believed her over you, that should never have happened."

"And you know how sorry I am," Fred says, walking over to you and kneeling down until he's directly in front of you.

"You're the best thing that has ever happened to me and I was an idiot for ever thinking it was you. I know things can't ever go back to how they were before, but I love you so much that I can't lose you. Seeing you hurting almost broke me and I know that you might need time or never see me again but you need to know exactly how I still feel about you."

"It's not just you," you say in reply, heaving out a long breathe, "I pushed people away."

"We deserved it," George says.

"Baby," Fred says gently, getting your attention. "I don't know how to fix this or how to make things better, but I'll do anything. I was an idiot, a complete git but I'll spent the rest of my life trying to make it up to you. Please say this isn't ruined."

For the first time since the incident, you allow yourself to feel hopeful that things could get better, that Fred could love you again. Sat surrounded by the two people you loved most in the world, you finally felt the love and protection you'd been needing since that awful night.

"I want that," you say quietly, picking at the blanket under your fingers, "I just want things to just go back to normal." You raise your eyes up to Fred's to see him smiling back at you, clearly pleased with your words.

"Well, let's start with this then," he says with a mischievous smirk, leaning towards you painfully slowly as if he's giving you plenty of time to say no or push him away. His soft lips press against yours gently and you can't help but feel a warmth spread all over your body, almost like you were defrosting and returning back to you're usual self. His hand reaches up to cup the side of your jaw and you're certain you can feel a fear hit your cheek, though it doesn't come from you.

The next morning, you walk hand in hand with Fred into the great hall for breakfast and sit right back at the centre of the table with your friends. You assume Fred or George had threatened them not to say anything as everyone around you acts normal, pretending the previous weeks didn't exist, though one by one they all apologised to you, most notably Ron and Harry. Ginny thought you were badass for everything you'd been through, not relenting even though you'd been tortured into eventually revealing the secret. Hermione had apologised so eloquently and thoroughly that you both ended up crying in the common room as she explained about the jinxed parchment and how she'd held out hope that it hadn't been you.

Each person made it up to you in anyway they could, admitting their mistakes and regrets and though you would probably never forget, you chose to forgive.

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secretswiftymarvelfan · 7 months ago

Text

The Demigod On Earth - Steve Rogers x Reader (Better Late Than Never)

Summary: You and Steve get ready for your second little one to arrive

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Light Angst! FLUFF! Brief Mention of Childbirth!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist / Main Masterlist

Better Late Than Never

One of the things you missed while pregnant was coffee, especially when stepping into a coffee shop knowing you already had your one cup that day and couldn’t have anymore. You probably should have waited to have your one cup but you couldn’t classify yourself as human before your first cup of coffee in the morning. But it was where you and Steve had agreed to meet Sam and Bucky so you had to put up with it.

“Hey, you’re looking great” Sam smiled as he got up from his chair to hug you.

“Thank you, feeling pretty big, she’s a kicker too” you chuckled as you sat down.

“We’ve got a future soccer player on our hands, what would you like princess?” Steve asked nodding to the counter.

“Just a fruit tea, oh and a cookie and sugar doughnut,” you said making Steve chuckle.

“At least your cravings are more normal this time” he muttered as he walked away.

“How’s JJ?” Bucky asked.

“He’s good, first day back at school today which he was pretty excited about, he loves seeing his friends” You smiled as you relaxed back in your chair, resting your hands on your bump.

Steve returned with your drink and snacks, you glanced over at his drink curious as to what coffee he’d gone for, hoping to get a sniff of caffeine “Tea, in this together remember” he said as he sat down “How have you guys been?” he asked turning his attention to Sam and Bucky.

“Good, mostly uneventful” Sam started.

You listened to what they’d been up to while snacking on your food, your little sweetpea clearly happy with the treats too as she kicked away.

“You back to work?” Sam asked you.

“Kinda, I don’t have any classes this year because of this little one,” you said pointing to your bump “and I’ll be going on maternity in a couple of weeks”

“Yeah we’re both taking leave when Y/N reaches 35 weeks just in case this one is like her older brother” Steve chuckled but you frowned over at him.

“Both?” you asked arching a brow, since this was news to you.

Steve took a long sip of his tea before answering “Yeah” he started as he wiped his lips “I cleared it with my boss that I can take early paternity leave”

“But why? We agreed I’d take leave at 35 weeks but you’d take it once she actually arrived” you reminded him.

“I changed my mind, I didn’t like the idea of working when you went into labour again,” Steve told you with a casual shrug of his shoulders.

You groaned and pinched the bridge of your nose “Steve, seriously? You didn’t think to talk to me about this?” you huffed.

“Should we step away for a bit?” Sam interjected pointing over his shoulder.

“No this won’t take long” you said holding out your hands, not looking away from Steve “Why did you do this Steve? Why didn’t you talk to me about it”

“Because I wanted to be with you from the beginning this time! What if she’s early and I’m at work?” he argued.

“Our OBGYN has been monitoring for that, she says I’m showing no signs of early labour and it was probably a miscalculation with JJ or the stress of being on the run!” you reminded him “Plus you work at the gallery now, you won’t be far away”

“I know but I want to be home with you!” Steve argued shaking his head.

“But you don’t need to be!” you huffed.

“Guys back me up here” Steve said turning to Sam and Bucky who had been watching like it was a tennis match but now looked like deer in headlights.

“Uh,” Sam muttered looking away, the basic decor of the coffee shop more interesting.

“I um see both sides” Bucky offered hesitantly.

“C’mon pal” Steve sighed.

“Look we were both there last time remember, I get why you want to be there” Sam said leaning forward “but you were on a different continent last time and still got there in time, you work in the same state now if something happens while you’re working you won’t miss a thing”

“You might be overthinking this one Steve” Bucky said gently “and it was so stupid to agree to this without talking to Y/N” he huffed shaking his head in disbelief.

“Thank you buck,” you said as Steve sighed “Look Steve I get it” You started turning as much as you could to face him “But honestly I was looking forward for it to be just me and JJ for a few weeks before our little sweetpea comes along” you explained “I’m not going to be able to spend much time with him and I don’t want him to feel forgotten”

Steve sighed and nodded his head “That makes sense, that was kinda my thinking too but with you”

“Okay, why don’t we compromise then? How about 38 weeks?” you offered “That way I have 3 weeks with JJ and you and I have 2 weeks if everything goes to plan and this one doesn’t arrive early.

“That works, I’m sorry for not discussing this with you” he apologised.

“It's okay, you’re just lucky we got our treats before we found out” you smirked making him laugh.

“God I thought we were all gonna become icicles then” Sam muttered under his breath.

As it turned out it didn’t really matter when Steve took his paternity leave. 36 weeks rolled around and there was nothing, then 38 and still no movement. You felt pretty confident that your sweetpea was going to arrive perfectly on time. Except 40 weeks came and went, and then 41.

As much as you enjoyed the extra time you were having with JJ and Steve and you knew they you would eventually miss being pregnant. You were miserable. You were so large and uncomfortable and you were desperate to finally meet your little girl.

You forced a brave face around JJ, his empathetic skills were top level and you didn’t want him to worry about. Steve could tell you were struggling though as he tried to take things off your hands, which sometimes backfired because you also didn’t want to be babied. Your mind felt like a minefield.

You had tried everything that your OBGYN suggested, bouncy balls, spicy food, sex, but nothing was working so they booked you in for an induction when you hit 42 weeks.

The night before your induction you made sure you put JJ to bed since this was his last night as an only child and you wanted to be the one to do so before you became busy with his sister.

You found it surprisingly emotional to say goodnight to him, you managed to hold back your tears though until you walked into your bedroom and sat yourself down on the bed. Steve who was in the bathroom instantly rushed over to you when he saw your tears.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Is it happening?” he asked cupping your cheeks.

You shook your head “No I’m just so tired and putting JJ to bed was more emotional than I thought and I know I should be excited that she’ll be here tomorrow but I wanted her to be here already” you pouted.

“I know princess,” Steve said soothingly “These past weeks have been really tough on you, you’ve been so strong to get through them”

“I just don’t get it, part of me thought she might come a little early like JJ or perfectly on time because she’s your kid,” you said earning a snort of laughter from Steve “But late? I just don’t get it”

Steve sighed as he moved to sit beside you, his arm looping around you as you rested your head on his shoulder “I wish I had the answers sweetheart” he rubbed your back soothingly, the aches you’d been feeling lessening with his touch “I would make a FRIENDs joke but I don’t think you’d appreciate that”

You let out a watery chuckle “You would be correct”

Steve gave you a soft smile before kissing the top of your head “Look let's get some rest, tonight is going to be our last night of uninterrupted sleep for a while so let's make the most of it and all of the uncomfortable and unpleasant feelings will be gone tomorrow and we’ll have our little sweetpea” he told you.

“You’re forgetting the excruciating part that is the actual labour” you pointed out.

“Okay but you were incredible last time and you’ll be incredible this time, you can break my hand and cause a heatwave in the middle of October” Steve smirked earning another small chuckle from you.

“Thanks Stevie, I know I’ve been a bit of a monster recently” you apologised.

Steve shrugged “It's okay, I better get used to you two girls teaming up on me” he smirked “C’mon let’s get you ready for bed”

You weren’t sure exactly how long you’d been asleep, only a couple of hours at least, but you woke to a sudden cramping sensation followed by liquid seeping between your legs. You immediately knew what was happening.

“Steve wake up” you prodded him as you pushed yourself up into a sitting position.

Steve was up like a shot, almost like he’d been zapped with electricity especially with his hair stuck up in all directions “What? What’s happening? What’s wrong?” he asked quickly.

“My water’s just broke,” you told him, wincing as a contraction hit.

“Shit, right okay” he muttered running his hands through his hair which just made it even more wild “Let me call the hospital” he grabbed his phone from the nightstand, squinting when the bright light lit up his face.

“Okay I’m gonna get changed” you said as you pushed yourself out of bed.

You grabbed the gown you had been planning on wearing at the hospital from the bag and waddled your way into the bathroom to change.

When you walked back out Steve was just ending the call with the hospital “They said to come straight in” he told you as he grabbed a pair of sweatpants and pulled them on.

“But Bucky and Sam aren’t supposed to be here until the morning” you pointed out.

“I know I’ll call them from the car in the meantime I’m gonna run around to Tanya and ask her to come over and watch JJ until they can get here” Steve pulled on his jumper, initially the wrong way around before fixing it.

“Okay, I’ll get the bags and meet you in the car” you nodded.

The reality of what was happening suddenly sunk in, you were about to have your little girl. A smile grew on both your and Steve’s faces.

“Guess she takes after her mother” he smirked as you made your way downstairs, earning a confused look from you since you weren’t the kind of person to be late “She likes to do things on her own terms”

You scowled at him “Thin ice rogers”

Steve visibly gulped “Noted”

Once Tanya was in your house ready for if JJ woke before Sam or Bucky got there, you made your way to the hospital. You called Bucky and Sam on the way, both sounded groggy when they picked up but once you said you were in labour and heading to the hospital they both woke up pretty quickly. You didn’t think Tanya would be hanging around long.

Soon after arriving at the hospital, you were taken to your room ready to settle down, your OBGYN coming in to check on you.

“Well looks like someone likes to work to their own schedule” she smiled as she walked in to examine you “Let's see where you are… okay you are at 7cm already”

“7 already? It took forever with JJ!” you exclaimed in shock.

“It's usually quicker the second time around, only a few hours, and the actual pushing part is shorter too” she explained as she stood back up “Do you know what position you want to use?”

“Uh yeah on all fours, I read the second can be bigger so I’m hoping gravity helps” you said, wincing when a contraction hit.

“Okay, not a problem, I’ll check back on you soon, get some rest and call if you get the urge” she nodded.

Once she was gone Steve turned to look at you “How come you were nice to her when she said the same as me?”

“Because she’s the doctor, I need her and her drugs on my side” you stated.

Steve nodded “Fair enough, do you need anything?” he asked.

You pouted “Rub my back? It kills”

“Sure thing princess” he smiled softly as he stepped closer.

He offered you one hand to hold while the other rubbed your back, focusing on your lower back where the pain was.

Just like your OBGYN said it didn’t take long at all for your little sweetpea to be in your arms.

“She looks just like you, so beautiful,” Steve said softly, tears in his eyes as he looked down at the little girl in your arms.

“I can’t believe she’s finally here” you sniffled as you brushed the top of her head gently, smiling as she shifted in your arms.

“You did incredible princess just like I said you would” Steve smiled as he kissed the top of your head “You should get some rest, you look exhausted”

“Not yet, I wanna hold her a little longer” you yawned, shaking your head.

“Okay, shift over then” he said before moving to rest beside you, one arm around your shoulder, the other resting underneath yours which held your little girl.

You tried to stay awake for as long as possible, not wanting to take your eyes off of your sweetpea, but eventually you couldn’t fight it any longer. You felt Steve lift the little girl out of your arms as you drifted off.

You woke a couple of hours later and saw Steve sitting in the chair beside you, his shirt off as he held the little girl so she was resting against his bare chest. You could see the love in his eyes as plain as day as he looked down at the little girl, you knew he was going to spoil her rotten. Steve was so distracted that he didn’t even notice you were awake and had taken a photo of the two of them until you reached out to put your phone back down.

“Hey, feeling better?” he asked softly.

You nodded, a warm smile on your face as you looked back at him. It reminded you of when JJ was born and how little he’d been.

“I’ve let Sam and Bucky know that she’s here and you’re both doing okay” Steve told you.

“Is JJ okay?” you asked with a small yawn as you sat up.

“Still asleep since it's pretty early still” Steve said nodding to the clock which said it was only 6 am.

“Gosh, I thought it was later” you muttered, time didn’t seem to exist when having a baby.

“Yeah, I suggested that they brought JJ over at midday so you could get some more rest” he told you.

“Good idea, I can’t wait for him to meet her though” You smiled, the thought alone was absolutely adorable.

“Me neither, he’s going to be such an amazing big brother” Steve smiled softly.

By the time midday had rolled around both you and Steve felt more rested and were frankly itching for JJ to get here and meet his little sister.

You were holding her when finally there was a knock at the door and three heads popped in, the sight made you chuckle.

“Hey, how are you?” Sam asked as they walked in.

“I see no cremated plants so I’d say pretty well” Bucky smirked.

“They’ve already taken the plant that she caused to burst out of its pot out of here” Steve answered making Bucky laugh.

“Hey Bean” you smiled turning your attention to JJ who was holding himself back “wanna come meet your little sister?”

“Can I?” he asked bouncing slightly on his feet, like he was struggling to hold back the excitement.

“We said he couldn’t come running straight in and had to be careful” Sam explained quietly to Steve.

“Of course sweetheart,” you said to JJ patting the space next to you on the bed.

Steve helped lift JJ up onto the bed, the boy’s eyes widening in awe when he saw the little girl for the first time.

“She’s so tiny” he muttered in amazement “She looked bigger in your belly” he added making everyone chuckle.

“She felt bigger then too” you smiled “Do you want to know her name?”

JJ nodded excitedly “Yes please”

“Okay JJ this is Natalia Freya Rogers,” you said introducing him to her.

“Like Auntie NatNat?” JJ asked his brows furrowed slightly.

“Yes, NatNat meant so much to us that we decided to name your sister after her” Steve explained, his throat thick with emotion.

“And you can call her Talia, it’s her nickname like how yours is JJ,” you told him.

“It's really pretty” JJ smiled.

“Where does Freya come from?” Sam asked as he smiled over at the three of you.

“It's an English variation of Frigga” You explained.

“That’s your mommy” JJ pointed out.

“That’s right bean, like how your middle name is Daddy’s Dad, Talia’s middle name is my mom’s” you explained to him before looking over at Steve with a warm smile “Steve suggested it,” You had burst into tears when he suggested it and it was only partly due to the hormones.

“Can I hold her?” JJ asked.

“Of course, just hold your arms out like this” Steve said demonstrating how to hold his arms so he could cradle Talia.

“We need to be very gentle remember, and she’s heavy so I’ll help hold her” you said as you carefully shifted Talia into his arms, making sure her head was still supported.

JJ giggled as she squirmed slightly at the movement before settling down once more. You smiled softly before glancing over at Steve who was taking a quick photo with tears in his eyes.

“Congrats man, she’s adorable” Bucky smiled, patting Steve on the shoulder.

“Thanks, and thank you for coming in the middle of the night” Steve said to the both of them.

“It's nothing, we’ll do it again for the next one” Sam smirked.

A smile tugged at the corner of Steve’s lips, he glanced over to you with a silent question on his face. You nodded with a smile of your own.

“Well we wouldn’t expect anything less from their godfathers” Steve said.

Sam blinked a couple of times before realisation dawned on his face “Nah man, really?” he said in disbelief.

“Really, we’d love for you to be Talia’s godfather” you smiled.

Sam smiled and shook his head “You two are gonna make me cry” he said making you chuckle.

“Welcome to the godfather club” Bucky laughed as he clapped Sam on the shoulders.

The first couple of weeks as a family of 4, 5 if you included Scout which of course you did, had been incredible. You had been a bit nervous about finding your feet and a new schedule but it was like riding a bike. You and Steve found your rhythm easily and you could see that Steve was far more confident this time around.

It was Halloween and for the day you had decided to go out to a local farm which was holding a fall fair. You had Talia strapped to your chest, her pumpkin beanie on which looked adorable.

You watched as Steve and JJ scoured through the pumpkin field to find the perfect pumpkin to carve. Steve had suggested a few but none had been perfect enough for JJ. JJ definitely had an artistic vision in mind and was not willing to compromise for it.

Eventually, he had found one that was perfect and Steve lifted into the wheelbarrow which already contained the ones you and him had picked up for yourselves. JJ rushed back over to you and took your hand to lead you back to the barn. You glanced over your shoulder you smiled at Steve who was pushing the wheelbarrow.

“I picked out a pretty one for Talia too,” JJ told you as you walked back to the barn.

“That’s really sweet of you Bean, are you gonna help carve it?” you asked him.

“Yeah, do you think she’ll like a cat on it?” JJ asked as he looked up at you, trying to peak at Talia.

“I think she would really like that JJ, what are you going to do?” you smiled as Talia shifted slightly, snuggling further into you.

“It’s a secret, only me and daddy know” JJ grinned up at you, he then paused and let out a dramatic gasp “What if Scout hates the cat pumpkin?”

You chuckled softly and squeezed his hand reassuringly “I’m sure Scout will be perfectly fine with a pumpkin cat, he’s a smart puppy”

JJ tilted his head as he thought before nodding his head “Yeah you’re right, I taught him to high-five yesterday” JJ grinned.

“And now he’s the coolest dog at the dog park” you smirked.

Back in the barn you got some hot drinks and got some food, you and Steve shared a pumpkin pie while JJ had a caramel apple. JJ sat beside you and kept smiling over to Talia who was sat on your lap, her eyes darting around the barn at all the different colours.

Once you got back from the fair you fed Talia and put her down for a nap before joining the boys to carve the pumpkins. You had only been gone for 30 minutes tops and the kitchen island looked like a pumpkin explosion, both boys had pumpkin seeds and guts over them.

“We had a bit of a food fight” Steve explained with a sheepish smile when you arched a brow in question.

“Well as long as it doesn’t become a regular thing” you said as you pulled a bit of pumpkin out of Steve’s hair and a seed from his beard.

You sat down next to JJ who gave you a sideward glance and turned his pumpkin so you couldn’t see his creation until he was ready to show it off. You chuckled to yourself as you got your own tools and made a start on your own pumpkin.

Once you were all done you carried the out to the front porch, you and Steve had both gone for a traditional design. Talia’s which JJ had helped with was a cute little cat face and JJ had carved out Mike from Monsters Inc. His was definitely the best out of all of them.

It wasn’t much later that Sam and Bucky rocked up in their costumes, which were both Dogs costumes, one red and one grey. They both agreed to take JJ trick or treating for you so you and Steve had an evening alone together while Talia slept. JJ bounced down the stairs when they turned up in his blue dog costume, completing the trio as Bluey.

“You guys look great” Steve chuckled as the three of them posed for photos.

“Only the best for my godson” Bucky grinned as he ruffled JJ’s hair, knocking his dog ears slightly to the side.

“You guys have fun and don’t stay out too late, or eat too much candy while you’re out” you reminded them as you walked them to the door.

“Sure,” Sam said with a conspiratory wink and a tap to his nose “C’mon little man” he held out his hand to JJ.

“You two have fun, but not too much fun” Bucky winked earning an eye roll from Steve.

“Trust me we don’t have to worry about that for another month” Steve said you two walked them out, earning a slap on the chest from you.

“Disgusting” Bucky groaned “That is not what I meant at all”

“Have fun, we’ll see you pups later” you smiled waving goodbye.

Once they were gone you and Steve collapsed on the couch together “So what kind of fun do you want to get up to? You do heal quicker than the average person” he asked with a smirk.

“As much as I’d like to I think I need another couple weeks,” you said “and honestly I just want to curl up on the couch with you, eat some candy and watch a cosy movie”

Steve smiled softly over at you “Done princess” he said wrapping his arm around you and pulling you into his embrace.

At that exact moment, the baby monitor came to life and you could hear the cries of Talia making both you and Steve sighed heavily “I’ve got it” Steve murmured, kissing the top of your head.

A few minutes later Steve reappeared holding Talia who was snoozing away with her head on his shoulder “She wouldn’t stay down in her bassinet” Steve explained quietly as he sat back down on the couch.

“She’s already got you wrapped around her little finger” You smiled rubbing her back softly, smiling when she let out a yawn and nuzzled further into Steve’s neck.

“Yeah” Steve sighed not even bothering to deny it “I didn’t realise how much I missed this age, even if the sleepless nights are hard”

“Me too, we’ll just have to savour it for now until we decide to have another” you agreed with a small smirk.

Steve’s eyes widened “Really? So soon?” he asked.

You shook your head “Gods no” you scoffed, as much as you liked being pregnant and part of you already missed it, getting pregnant so soon after giving birth was not what you wanted “Let's wait until she’s at nursery at least, a 2-year gap seems like a good one”

Steve smiled “Yeah that sounds like a good plan, now c’mere I want to cuddle with my girls” he said holding his arm out for you to snuggle up.

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imtrashraccoon · 7 days ago

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This is probably super freaking random but the Dark Fortress boys(works with both normal and dragon au) dealing with a cursed gorgon(I'm also sending this because I'm working on a gorgon oc, her name is Phaledno and I love her so far, she's a big girl too since her bottom half is a Reticulated Python, and she was cursed for a crime she didn't commit and she can only turn super nasty people into stone but innocent people are absolutely fine, and also monsters if we insert her into the UTMV. She's got black mambas for the signature snake hair gorgons are known for too)

So, the idea is that some of the surrounding kingdoms have been having their monster hunters and knights going missing and they found out it's a gorgon that's doing it, so they freak out and go to Donovan and make a dramatic racket about it. Donovan getting fed up with all of noise and whining gets his boys together and goes to see what all the fuss this gorgon is all about. So, they get there and there is just petrified men everywhere and a large snake tail up in this massive sequoia tree, and there is the gorgon with a blindfold on and a chill expression up in the tree, now Donovan just sees a bunch of corrupt men trying to kill a creature that probably just wants to be left alone since said gorgon was curse to be one but nope, these knights and monster hunters are wanting to carve a name into the poor thing's hide.

The gorgon asks the boys if they're going to kill her or not. And Donovan just bluescreens, like soul evacuates body, and he's just blank staring at her. Dirk is wheezing and dying of laughter from the look on Donovan's face. Reven just wants to go back the Fortress and sleep, and he is five minutes away from stabbing Dirk for all of noise he's making. Maul is just staring at all of the petrified men and going "We should not be here, why are we here with a lady that could turn us into rocks!?"

Now at this point the gorgon is just trying to go back to sleep, but all of these freaky skeletons are bugging her, so she just slides into a tree hollow and covers her ears.

Idk it's just absolutely hilarious to me.

Heh, sorry for the wait, but you inspired me and I had to write something for this. (⁠ㆁ⁠ω⁠ㆁ⁠)

The Dark Fortress: Gorgon

Word Count: 1,440

"I'm tellin' ya that beast killed everyone!"

From his throne, Lord Donovan eyed the pitiful messenger boy that Maul had dragged in by the back of his tunic. Rough treatment aside, the lad was clearly frightened half to death, and while the dark lord had witnessed plenty of groveling peasants in his time, something about this situation seemed different.

The boy's appearance wasn't much different from the average farmhand: mussed hair, tanned skin from working in the sun, and simple clothing that looked handmade. However, what caught Donovan's attention was the state of him. His pants were stained with dirt and hastily wrapped rags served to cover injuries that couldn't have been more than a few hours old. His breathing was laboured, as if he really had just run the whole distance from the nearby town of Agritail, but it could just as easily have been induced by sheer fright when he had been collared by Maul.

Donovan tapped his jaw as he contemplated everything the messenger had just told him. Fear tended to draw out honesty in mortals, and even if he couldn't sense emotions, this lad had plenty of fear to spare. The message itself seemed unusual though.

The Klasical Kingdom had apparently been having hunters going missing, and when the King sent a band of knights to find out why, they also failed to return. However, the most recent investigation had turned up the source of the disappearances: a gorgon. Evidently, this lad had been conscripted to fight this beast, but had fled the battle to seek help when not even trained soldiers had succeeded to slay it.

Normally, Donovan despised cowards, but the message provided an interesting opportunity. If he took care of the problem, Agritail and the Klasical Kingdom would owe him a debt, and he liked the idea of holding a favour over their leaders' heads. It could bring him another step closer to ruling the entire world if he played his hand right.

"Today is your lucky day," he started to say, looking down at the farm boy with contempt. "If your own king can't protect you, then I suppose I will have to take matters into my own hands. Consider the creature taken care of."

～⁠>⁠`⁠)⁠～⁠～⁠～

It was not hard to find the hunters and soldiers, or at least what remained of them. In the midst of a dense grove, a graveyard of stone people stood in various poses, some mid-weapon strike and others frozen as they turned to flee the scene. While no one spoke, Donovan knew that each of his men were slightly unnerved by the sight, but he didn't hold it against them for once. They were all hardened killers, but he doubted any of them had encountered a creature capable of such devastating effects as this.

Gorgons were very much creatures of legend, stemming back from the very beginning of the world when gods still walked freely amongst mortals. They came in various shapes and sizes, but all had two distinct characteristics - the lower half of a snake and numerous small snakes in place of hair. While some were known to be venomous, all gorgons had the power to turn mortals and creatures alike to stone with merely a glance. Such a fate was almost always fatal, but skilled alchemists knew a cure could be distilled from a few of the scales of the creature.

Fortunately for his men, Donovan was capable of creating such an antidote if the mission went horribly, but he doubted such measures would be necessary. So long as none of them made eye contact with the gorgon, no one was at risk of being turned to stone, especially because he planned on blinding the creature as soon as they found it.

Speaking of finding the creature, Dirk had done just that, pointing out a large snake tail coiled in the branches of a nearby sequoia tree. It was easily the largest snake Donovan had seen, although he couldn't estimate its true length because of the way it was perched in the tree. Most of the dorsal scales were a deep ebony with a complex but beautiful reticulated pattern adorning the rest of the length of the body.

"Who goesss there?" a low voice whispered. Slowly, the muscular tail began to move until the rest of the creature emerged from the shade of the canopy.

It appeared that this creature wasn't a mindless creature like the messenger had portrayed, but one that was willing to converse with her prey before attacking. This was not entirely unusual as Donovan himself enjoyed entertaining mortals from time to time, but it was unexpected.

Without looking at her straight on, he cleared his non-existent throat. "I am Lord Donovan and these are my henchmen. What name are you known by?"

The gorgon huffed, and Donovan had a feeling she was rolling her eyes at his question. "I have been called many thingsss. Monster... Abomination... Pest... Yet, I prefer my true name...Phaledno."

Donovan mulled over the name, sounding out the syllables in his mind, but he could not remember ever reading of a gorgon with such a name in any of the books he had collected over the years. Perhaps she had escaped notice until now, and no historian had ever been able to record her?

"Why have you attacked these people?" he asked.

"Why?" Phaledno echoed, twisting her body around the branches as if to get a better look at the four skeletons down below. "Why else would a creature defend itself when attacked for no reason?"

Donovan opened his mouth to answer before closing it with a click. Why indeed? he mused as he scanned the area around them once more. All these mortals had been turned to stone, and yet the gorgon had not so much as threatened to do the same with them.

Dirk had begun toying with his dagger, spinning it between his phalanges mindlessly, and while Reven appeared calm, Donovan noticed he was shifting his weight from one foot to another a lot. Maul held the shaft of his great axe in what could best be described as a death grip as his red eyelight flicked between the statues nervously. They were likely all wondering the same thing Donovan was, having come ready for a fight with a ferocious beast, not to make pleasantries with it instead.

"So...have you also come to kill me?" the gorgon hissed, finally descending from her perch. "I would take no pleasure from cursing you and your men, but I will do what I mussst."

Only then was Donovan able to get a proper look at her, and it made him realize a few things. Firstly, she was a lot bigger than he originally estimated, easily over twelve feet long if he were a betting monster. Second, during their brief encounter so far, she had remained calm, almost deathly so, and continued even now. Finally, and most interestingly, she was wearing a blindfold, covering her eyes and preventing herself from making eye contact with them. Could it be that she was telling the truth? If so, she had just put herself at a disadvantage by choosing to leave the tree.

That also begged the question of how she knew what direction to face. The blindfold was clearly working as none of them had been turned to stone just yet, so Donovan could only conclude that she must have been making use of her other senses. She also held herself with such grace and dignity, so much so, that for once he found himself dumbstruck. He was in the presence of a truly remarkable monster, not one who terrorized villages and killed men, but someone who only wished to live in peace.

Donovan's train of thought was broken by Dirk's barely restrained laughter. "What?" he snapped at the rogue.

This only caused Dirk to fully break down into uncontained chuckles, and the tension in the air seemed to evaporate all at once. Reven let out a quiet groan of annoyance and turned around as if to leave the grove completely. Only Maul still appeared concerned, and he seemed unwilling to look away from any of the statues for long, muttering under his breath about how he didn't like this situation one bit.

Phaledno let out a sigh and ran one of her clawed hands through the snakes that adorned her head. "Come on now, I didn't even try to paralyze you. If we're not going to fight, then I would much prefer to finish my nap..."

~~~

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tea-stained-notes · 24 days ago

Text

Colin x Penelope - What If You Fly? | Chapter 3

Penelope has got used to loving Colin in secret. To yearn for him when his work takes him around the globe and to hide her heart away when he is near. But a weekend together at a writing conference brings to the surface what has been buried for far too long. Will Penelope finally dare to embrace her ambitions as a writer and confess her feelings to her best friend?

Warnings: angst

Chapter word count: ~2450

MASTERLIST

The angst is really angsting in this one - but it'll get better soon, I promise 🙈

Day 3

The next morning Penelope and Colin attend a discussion titled “The Human Essence in Writing During the Rise of Generative AI”. The panellists and the audience go back and forth about authenticity, lived experience, intellectual labour. About the age-old need to tell stories. And Penelope is thriving. She is so glued to the panel that she barely notices Colin’s gaze on her. “You really loved that, huh?” he grins after. “Obviously. Didn’t you?” “Of course. But I don’t create worlds and characters.” He shrugs. “I just tell other peoples’ stories.” Penelope gapes at him. “That’s not true. You collect all these precious pieces and then craft them into something that feels whole and coherent and yet so… alive. They might be other peoples’ stories but you make them shine.” Colin’s eyes shimmer as he stares at her for a long moment, speechless. “Thank you,” he finally whispers. She feels herself blush under his gaze and averts her own. The room empties out around them and just when she moves to get up he reaches for her arm. “Listen, I know you didn’t want to come to the workshop yesterday and I understand why you panicked under that pressure. But you relished it, didn’t you? You were glowing the entire time. Just like now.” “Col…” “You’re a writer, Pen. You’ve always been a writer. I simply don’t understand why you’re still helping other people live their dreams instead of working on your own.” Penelope glances around at the new group of people trickling into the room. She lowers her voice to just above a whisper. “We’ve had this discussion. I’m over it.” “You’re clearly not. Any idiot can see you’re not happy with your career choices.” “Oh and throwing my heart on the line is going to solve that?” she hisses. “It might.” “Exactly, it might. But what if I put myself out there and receive nothing but rejections? What if my dream gets killed before I ever get the chance to live it? When I have nothing left, what the hell do I do then?” Colin’s eyes are coloured in sympathy and confusion. “Why on earth do you think you would fail?” “Because there are two big things I want in life and one of them has already become a disaster.” She snaps her mouth shut. Fuck. “What?” he asks, suddenly strained. “Just leave it. You’re late for your workshop.” Despite her best efforts her voice is shaking and she quickly rises to her feet to get out of his orbit. But Colin is on her heels, following her out into the hallway. “What are you talking about? What disaster?” “I swear to God, Bridgerton, if you don’t give me some space right now, I’m gonna put you out on the street for the night.” “Pen—“ “Colin, please.” When she whips around, her eyes are filled with tears and he winces. “Just let it go.” His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. Then he slowly raises a hand to her face and trails it along her cheek. Penelope suppresses a shiver. “Is a dream killed really worse than one never lived?” he whispers. She stares at him for a long spell, a storm raging through her head. “I’ve got to go,” she eventually rasps. “Client meetings.” Without giving him a chance to reply she rushes down the corridor, almost suspecting him to pursue her even further. Thankfully, he does not.

A few hours later, Penelope has lunch out on the patio with a few other agents she started chatting with between meetings. The easy conversation has helped her find her footing again after the way she had left things with Colin. He has always tried to encourage her in her writing pursuits but never has he been so strangely intense about it. Maybe it was a mistake to come here with him. She is still haunted by the desperation in his eyes. By his agonising question that finally voiced what has been clawing at her heart for years — both about him and her career. The ever-looming scales weighing risk against regret. “Here you are.” She inhales deeply before looking up at Colin with a tight smile that is mirrored on his face. He gives everyone else a friendly nod, then squats down beside her. “Why don’t you sit?” she murmurs, the offer only half-sincere. “I’ve got a call scheduled in a couple of minutes. Just wanted to tell you that I’ve made dinner plans with a colleague who’s in the area. Would you like to join us?” “Oh.” Penelope hesitates. “Thanks, but I think I’d rather stay in.” Tension is still simmering between them, as plain in Colin’s features as it probably is in hers. “Okay.” He pushes himself up. “I’ll see you after then.” No more attempts at inviting her along to his workshops. She wonders whether he just doesn’t want to push her any further right now or whether he has given up on changing her mind at last. “Yes. Have a good time.” “You too.” Despite everything he leans down to brush a kiss to her hair and it tugs at her heartstrings. Ever the sweet, caring man she knows. Making it infinitely difficult to let him go. Except that she might have a way out now — if she’s brave enough to take it. Once he has left, she pulls out her phone, staring down at the e-mail from her boss. Have you thought about New York? She recalls the clarity that suddenly came over her last night. It would be good for her not to see him every time he returns to London, right? It has to be. It has to.

No matter how vehemently she pushed back against Colin earlier, Penelope can’t stop thinking about her manuscripts. Could they really be something more than secret files on her computer? Could she be something more than a bystander cheering other people on from the sidelines? She’s distracted throughout all her afternoon events. When she looks down at her notes after, they’re mostly unintelligible. At the end of the day she finds herself hurrying towards the copy station set up in one of the seminar rooms. And before she knows it she’s holding a printout of the novel she was too scared to read from at the workshop. She doesn’t remember the last time she has held any of her work on paper. It’s so different. So… real. Penelope feels strangely secretive when she carries it up to their room, holding it close to her chest. Like she’s smuggling something illegal. When the door clicks closed behind her, her excitement only intensifies. She toes off her shoes, quickly pulls on some comfortable clothes, then settles at the small desk. There is something magical about lifting that first page. About diving into the world she herself has created. It fades a few sentences in when her brain starts catching on all the stylistic and structural flaws and her heart sinks. She is just about to admonish herself when her stomach does it for her by letting out a resonant grumble. “Okay, okay,” she mutters. “Let’s make this good.” She calls the reception to have pumpkin risotto and red wine delivered. Then she goes to wash and moisturise her face, ties her hair up in a bun and lights the electric fireplace. When she sits back down with her food her writing music is playing softly in the background. She takes a deep breath. And begins.

Penelope is so engrossed in her manuscript that she doesn’t hear Colin come in until he calls out, “Honey, I’m home”, making her jump out of her skin. She haphazardly shoves the papers underneath her laptop case and leaps to her feet with a too bright smile. “Hey, how was dinner?” “Good. What are you reading?” he grins. “Is it scandalous?” “What? No!” She feels a blush creep up her neck. “Just a draft from a potential client.” “Uh huh.” There’s a sparkle in his eyes and she notices with relief that their earlier half-fight seems to no longer stand between them. Still, her heart is hammering in her chest. “I’m knackered,” Colin yawns. “Gonna get ready for bed.” “Yeah, sure. Take your time, I’ll go after.” “Did you have a nice evening?” he asks while hanging his jacket over one of the armchairs. “Yeah, it was good. Ordered up food and just worked for a bit.” “Only you would consider work ‘nice’,” he chuckles. “That’s rich coming from the guy who lives and breathes his job.” “Fair.” He sends her a smirk on his way to the en-suite. “Carry on, fellow grafter.” A long exhale leaves her when he closes the door behind him. Then she starts circling the room to walk off some of the adrenaline. She feels ripped out of a different reality, utterly confused to find that her own still exists. And that she still has a million questions to confront in it. “You alright?” Colin’s brows are furrowed when he steps back into the room. Her pulse starts racing again. “Yeah. No. I— I’ve been meaning to tell you something. I had a meeting with my bosses this week.” She chews on her lips for a moment, then pushes the words out in one fluid motion. “They’ve offered me to transfer to the New York office.” “Oh.” His mouth falls open before he manages to chisel a half-smile onto it. “That’s great. They must be very impressed with you. Have you declined yet?” She pushes up her chin in false bravado. “Why should I?” “Because— What?” He stares at her in utter confusion. “Of course you can’t go, that’s…” “Not something anxious little Penelope would do? You’re not the only one who wants to see the world, Colin.” “So travel! Come with me, I’ve got trips to Slovenia and Norway planned and—“ “I’ve already decided to take the job.” “What?” “It’s… It’s just what I need.” “Since when? When have you ever wanted to live in New York? Most days you can’t even stand London and now you’re telling me you want to move to a city that’s double the size and even more obnoxious? And with everything that’s currently going on in the States? Fuck, Pen, they might arrest you at the border or some shit.” “You’re being dramatic.” “And you’re being impulsive. That’s not the kind of decision you just make without thinking it through.” “Right, because the great Colin Bridgerton is known for being oh so steady and prudent. You’ve been gallivanting around the planet for a decade, but sure, go ahead and lecture me on the dangers of taking a risk for once in my life.” “So, that’s a risk you’re easily willing to take but you won’t even try to get your writing published?” “Christ, not that again.” “Yes, that again. What are you not telling me, Pen?” “Nothing.” “Stop lying.” “Then stop pestering me.” “Not when you are clearly trying to avoid—“ “It’s too much, okay? You are too much, Colin.” He stares at her as if she’s slapped him across the face. Neither of them remembers how to breathe. “I was just trying to be a good friend.” His voice unravels at the seams. “A good friend wouldn’t treat me like a fucking child,” she presses out. Then she turns on her heel and flees to the bathroom, slamming the door like a shot through the night.

Penelope couldn’t say how long she sits on the toilet lid, her face buried in her hands. She hates herself for putting her own heart before his this time. For making him doubt his tender soul. All because she cannot tell him her true reasons. That he can no longer be her oxygen, no matter how much she craves him. That she prays this exact craving will pass once she has created a life that is not entangled with his. He’s right, most days London drives her mad. But maybe New York could be the first adventure of many, the first real adventure of her own, instead of living vicariously through Colin. She’s barely travelled outside the country, never outside the continent. Once the initial hurt has passed, she might finally become more than the shy, despondent girl still hung up on her first love. She only wishes she didn’t have to hurt Colin as well. Hadn’t already hurt him with her accusation. It’s true, he is too much for her, but the only blame falls to her own foolish heart.

When she returns to the room, it’s dark, save for the small lamp by her bed. Colin is curled up under his blanket, turned to the wall and completely silent. The tension in the air makes her sick. Her body instinctively gravitates towards his form, desperate to touch him, to apologise. But as much as she is threatening to crumble, her mind holds fast. She can’t play this game anymore. Maybe this for the best. Create some distance between them, break up the painful mess they’ve been caught in for so long. Penelope slips into her own bed, switching off the light. The sudden cloak of darkness adds further weight to the already suffocating silence. She turns her back to him and tries to slow her breathing despite her heavy pulse. It will be fine. She can’t imagine how yet, but somehow she will learn to live without him, at least for a while. Until her heart can let go of Colin Bridgerton at last. Minute after minute passes at an agonising pace. Then, suddenly, a whisper cuts through the pitch black. “Pen?” She lies perfectly still. “I’m sorry. Truly. My fears shouldn’t hold you back when you’re finally daring to do something that big. I didn’t mean to be overbearing. I just… I will really miss having you at home. I can’t picture it without you.” A sob nearly breaks from her lips. She bites down on her fist instead and lets the hot tears soak into her pillow. Her love for him burns through her chest with ferocity. But she says nothing. His sheets rustle as he turns to face her. He calls out her name again, even more quietly. A delicate, fragile plea to forgive him. He’s never been the type to let a wound fester, always desperate to restore the peace. Once, when he and Eloise had a horrible fight, he did not sleep for three days because it ate him up inside. She knows all this and yet she can’t bring her throat to produce a single sound. All she can do is weep silently and ache for him until exhaustion finally pulls her under.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

CHAPTER 4

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#bridgerton #colin x penelope #penelope x colin #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington #polin #polin bridgerton #polin fluff #polin fanfiction #bridgerton fanfiction

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okay-letsdothisonelasttime · 5 months ago

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So I started writing fanfiction on AO3 a little while ago (it's been like 1.5 years), but like I've only recently gotten to the point of writing enough to actually start paying attention to my stats, and here's a few things I find interesting or just straight up never knew when I was a fic reader (for anyone who may be interested).

1. The fact that writers have a private stats page that catalogs info about all of there fics - makes sense I just never thought about it before.

2. When you make a private bookmark it doesn't increase the bookmark count on the fic publicly, but we (the writers) can see it in said stats page. So like there can be a big disparity between the number of bookmarks that appear on the fic page and the number of times a fic has actually been bookmarked (I.e. one of my fics had like 6 public bookmarks, but only I can see that there's actually 14 when the private ones are factored in).

3. I know I do this and so other writers probably do as well. But because I don't get a crazy amount of engagement with my work (like I do okay but we aren't talking big numbers by any stretch) I will often have a look at your account if you leave me a kudos/ comment, or publicly bookmark my fic. Cause I'm always curious who likes my works and if you like mine maybe you have some bookmarks that I'll like as well.

4. Directly related to the above is how varied people's use of the website is. Like I've been activity consuming fanfic for over 15 years and I use my bookmarks to curate what I consider to be the cream of the crop. I'm talking fics that I'll reread multiple times, or that had a massive impact on me or that were just exceptionally written. But I also like to keep that list pretty well maintained, so over that decade and a half I've kept the number to a tight 60, which I think is pretty good. But now that I'm frequently looking at other accounts I'm seeing the full gambit from people having no public bookmarks, to only having bookmarks from a single fandom, to people clearly using it as a reading history and therefore having thousands of bookmarks. The spectrum of that functions use is sooooo wild to me.

5. Another thing is how varied fic interaction are between different fandoms. Like some fandoms seem more willing to engage with comments, while other mainly just leave kudos. Same with bookmarks, it seems like some fandoms lean more towards being okay with public bookmarks then others, even if the content of the work is similar. It's just super interesting to see that disparity as well.

6. And lastly, but most certainly not least, is how much time and effort goes into fic writing. Like I always had a healthy appreciation for the fact that it is a labour of love and obviously a lot of effort to write creatively. However, until you write yourself, I don't think you can fully comprehend how much time and mentle space it takes up. Cause I can spend WEEKS writing a couple of thousand words, can spend upwards of an hour agonising about the word choice in a specific paragraph, can reread my fic a disgusting amount (to the point of no longer enjoying it) to make sure the flow and continuity is correct. And no matter how much of a healthy respect you have for the craft, I think until you experience the process you can never fully understand the amount of work and dedication goes into the fic writing process.

Anyway that's all I can think of right now, but yeah, I just thought other people who aren't writers might be interested in a few of these things, cause I probably would have been keen to know it when I was just reading fics myself....

M'Kay bye.

#ao3 #fanfiction #archive of our own #fanfic writers #fics #fic writing #THATS JUST MY OPINION #my fic #creative writing #creative process #am i revealing trade secrets....#my b if so

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leianaberrie · 1 year ago

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damon being the last villain is better then the false legend they tried claiming katherine to be at the end I still lmao at the claim katherine is some bad bi#ch I'm honestly convinced the Squirrel Elena tried eating was a badder bi#ch then katherine lol why did they have thee Malachi parker say stupid sh#t like that

Even at her worst, Katherine's biggest priorities were surviving Klaus and messing with her ex and his new girlfriend so the show trying to spin her as this puppet-master-mind was ridiculous.

Also one thing I find interesting about Katherine is how much she's presented as this femme fatale who wraps men around her finger, and Katherine obviously hypes up this reputation and wants people to think she is. But that's not really supported by the narrative:

Nadia's baby daddy: arguably, Katherine's first love and the only thing we know about him is that he wasn't there when she went through labour and had her baby ripped out of her arms.

Klaus: Katherine's second crush and the second man in her life to fake being in love with her so he could user her.

Trevor: The first man that Katherine managed to "use" but this was only after he found her for Klaus and was willing to let her die. From what we see, it's not even clear if Katherine manipulated him or he just had a crisis of conscience.

Elijah: Arguably, the first man to love Katherine without first having an agenda but he didn't love her enough to stop his brother from killing her. He just came up with a plan that he hoped would bring her back to life. Then the second time they date, Katherine's cocky to Rebekah and Elena but who ends up dumping whom? Katherine begs Elijah to run away with her, but he decides to play house with Klaus's baby mother instead.

Damon: So far the only man that Katherine manages to manipulate without first using vampire compulsion. But considering how weird Damon is about his brother's girlfriends and close female friends, I wonder how much of it was Katherine and how much was Damon just wanting what Stefan had. Also considering how quickly Damon got over Katherine once Elena - Stefan's new girlfriend - was in the picture, I wonder how much of it was Katherine at all.

Stefan: Most, if not all of Katherine manipulating Stefan was Katherine using vampire compulsion to rape him make him OK with sleeping with her and Damon at the same time. So this wasn't about Katherine being a femme fatale but her using a superpower than every vampire had.

Mason: The second man that Katherine clearly manipulated. Although again this was less about her using her beauty and charm and more about her straight up scamming him like a con-artist when she pretended to be his friend so she could instigate him to triggering his wolf curse. Mason also hid the moonstone in a well of vervain so he didn't completely trust her either.

Not counting Cade because that's obviously the show pushing that narrative but notice how only 2 people claim that Cade was Katherine's puppet. Kai - who's trying to mess with Bonnie at the time and Katherine - who of course wants to believe that she was the one using him and not the other way around. Cade himself never mentions her and everything he's trying to do is for himself. To free himself out of Hell and to get more powerful. At best, I would say he and Katherine might have a mutual alliance but considering her track record, it's far more likely that this was another man who was using her.

So yeah, Katherine as the Ultimate Big Bad never made sense. Damon was the one whose brand of evil crossed from pragmatism to petty cruelty.

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zahri-melitor · 8 months ago

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Newish Comics

Batman: The Brave and the Bold #17: oh, we are recanonising Officer Down immediately before going into All Along the Watchtower? That's...a choice. Not necessarily a bad one, but hmmm it very much positions Harvey Bullock (though while recanonising it we've now made the hit go awry, so hmmmmm).

The Leap Day story was fine, it felt like a Batman fill. I don't care for the Constantine team up with Streaky but that's normal for me. Billy seemed sort of young in the diner story, but it was a cute team up (though Basil Karlo, you know there's a perfectly fine team name for Clayfaces, it's the Mud Pack, why were you reaching for 'The Clay Team').

The Man-Bat story made me emotional, especially in that Kirk says he's still very separated from Francine.

Action Comics #1069: These were...fine. I did have to laugh that Rowell's conclusion to 'is it unethical to report on yourself' was 'we're both somewhat unethical and are going to do it anyway'.

The Flash #13: This remains a very good Wally West comic. I did squint at Linda saying she went through labour three times, but I think this is meant in terms of the nonsense surrounding the twins' pregnancy involved her to first miscarry and then give birth to the twins. That or she's counting active labour/delivery for the twins separately.

I'm excited for Skartaris. I presume we're also time travelling somewhat given Travis appeared alive in the dream scene, but also I'm fully aware that nobody actually remembers Travis did actually die and Joshua's now the Warlord. Unless there's further developments beyond that that I haven't sussed out yet.

Green Arrow #16: I love your confidence in Connor, Ollie, but's he's still like...top 10 living fighters, not the 'greatest fighter the world has ever seen'. (I did enjoy the little smirk on Connor's face from his very first panels that was very 'you are underestimating me').

Also still so very bored with this extremely obvious triple cross. I presume we will finally get around to the payoff in Absolute Power #4. (Let Cissie and Sienna go home)

Outsiders #11: This has been an interesting comic. I'm still not sure how much of a difference it would have made to label this 'Planetary'. What I enjoyed was Kate and Luke getting some page time. I'm unconvinced that what we need is an Authority reboot centred around the Bats (I cringed at the "Lucius Fox to be the Doctor! Luke Fox to be the Engineer!" stuff) but I don't hate the idea of an Authority reboot, especially if they give it teeth. If you're doing the Authority can I have Jack Hawksmoor mentoring Cameron Kim instead thanks.

Zatanna: Bring Down the House #4: the art on this title remains super pretty. It's really an interesting rewrite of Zee's history

The Warlord #69: This week in the lost land of Skartaris, everyone is finally heading back to the present from Wizard World.

Of course, it goes wrong.

...

bahahahhahahahahaha oh Dan Jurgens you clearly didn't have any decent reference images

The best bit, beyond the incredibly tall buildings in the middle of the water of Circular Quay, or the surprise mountains coming out of the water around Kirribilli, or the fact that Blues Point Tower is apparently 3x taller than it actually is (while still being an eyesore) is that Travis and Shakira have ended up in a future where, to my eye, Fort Denison was never constructed on Pinchgut Island.

This means nothing to anyone not heavily steeped in history of the settlement of Sydney but just trust me that it is very VERY funny in terms of what it means that Travis is just lying there on the rocks.

That's because even in this weird badly photoreferenced Sydney, Shakira, you are currently on what's essentially one of the most desolate rock islands in the centre of the harbour and from that sun it looks like if the fort was actually still there it would be closed for the day.

You might get to see Benny the seal though.

They then proceed to walk on water to get to the city, because even if this WAS on the north shore of the harbour they clearly aren't walking to Chatswood.

Travis finds the city to be incredibly empty and wonders if the Cold War suddenly got hot in his absence. But then! Travis gets jumped by some of Abe Saffron's boys and girls in a deeply amusing conglomeration of 80s fashion and space age dressing. So glad to see recognition of Sydney's underworld in an American comic. (They don't specify they're working for old Abe but you know. I can read into these things)

So they proceed to walk south in Australia heading for Melbourne so they can fly or sail to Antarctica and the hole to enter the centre of the earth. It's racist in places and has a farm that's raising wombats and I cannot take any of it seriously, but I am so amused.

#z canon read throughs #newish comics

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rreskk · 2 years ago

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Love your work and have been binge reading everything Trevor :3 just have to throw that out there <3

A request I have is having the reader being recruited for a heist because she’s ex military and knows how to drive or good with guns (no real preference tbh you can work whatever angle you’d like) and Michael and Trevor both petty fight over who gets to be with her but she ultimately chooses T?

Amazing idea! Thank you :)

Summary: A new job needed a new crew member. You had caught Trev's and Michael's attention strongly. But who do you pick?

TW: -Suggestive content (sexual)

Word count: 927

Pairings: Ex- military Fem!reader/Trevor Philips

“Ex military, huh? Well… I guess me and [l/n] already have a lot in common.”

Michael rolled his eyes at Trevor’s suggestive comment and slumped in his seat. He looked at the board, your picture pinned as a potential gunwoman for the next job. You were extremely attractive, and ex-military (which had caught Trevor’s attention the most). He liked a good, strong woman after all.

“She ain’t a discharged mentally ill pilot from the Canadian air force, you Loonie.”

“Shut the fuck up, Mikey.” Trevor growled, his anger being triggered by the mentions of his past failure. He still had his eyes set on your printed picture, desperate for your part in the team – talented or not.

Lester had mentioned beforehand that you’ll be arriving soon to discuss any further concerns. The both men were pouncing in their seats, the only difference being; Michael was more calm and collected while Trev… Well, Trevor was already groping himself at the thought of you.

“Jesus, can you stop? You’ll scare her off.” Disturbed, Mikey glared at his buddy who was self-relieving.

“She’s ex-military, cupcake. A gunwoman who can handle herself – “ He groaned, “Damn… When she’s comin’ Molester? I’m getting’ impatient.”

“She’ll come in her own time… Just… Keep your mouth closed, I’ll do the talking.” Lester responded as he began writing some extra information on the board.

“Booorrriinnngggg! Hey, I’m sure a lady like herself would need a man as… Wild as me.”

Michael nudged Trevor’s shoulder in attempts to shut him up. However, before Trevor could react, the door opened and you walked in.

All eyes were set on you.

“Hey, I hope I wasn’t too late.” Your voice endearing and pleasant. You smiled at them all, clearly balanced in your frame of mind. For a lady who shot enemies senselessly in the military for years and years, you were a gentle soul. There was a shy glimpse in your eyes, someone feeble but independent and strong-minded.

“Ah, [y/n],” Lester offered his hand and you shook it gracefully. He then motioned to the seat beside Trevor – “Please, sit.”

You didn’t notice the eager guy at first. Not until you sat down.

“Hey.” He’d grin.

Luckily Trevor had stopped his groping just before you made an appearance. He was manspreading in his seat, observing your body language and occasionally trying to take a small peek at your ass. His heart flustered when you made eye-contact. He saw the Devil in your eyes, even if it was hidden by the ray of rainbows and innocence. Trevor’s grin grew wider, knowing he’s sat next to a lady who has killed without shame, and for her country.

“Nice to meet you.” You smiled.

“Ohhh… The pleasure is all mine.” The seductive labour of his tongue had made you visibly aware of his intensions. Trevor smirked when you got the hang of it, and winked.

“Ah, excuse Trevor…” The man beside him spoke, smiling at you, “I’m Michael. You must be [y/n]?”

You nodded.

“We heard that you’re pretty good with the gun?” Michael asked.

“Oh, yeah. I was a marksman for some years. I know my way around a rifle and assault rifles quite well.”

Trevor grunted from beside you, finding the urge to touch himself again. The bulge in between his legs was growing with every word you said.

“Impressive. Me and Trev, we ain’t professional, but we easily could be – “

“Wait, wait! Hey, I am a professional. I was in the air force.” He winked at you.

“Yeah… was,” Michael scoffed, “Besides, I’m talkin’ about the military, dumbass.”

“Oh, the air force? That’s cool. A pilot?”

Trevor’s eyes lit up when you took interest in his past profession. He shuffled a bit closer to you and smirked.

“Indeed. A fuckin’ great pilot. I’m talkin’ jets and nuclear drops.”

“Oh, damn. That’s pretty awesome. I respect your service.”

“And… I respect yours, as well.” His voice getting lower and his sinister grin widening.

“Okay, enough. We got to work on this thing,” Lester pouched, pointing to the board – “Now, [y/n], you’ll have to either assist Michael or…” He looked at Trevor, who was staring, admiring your beauty, “So… Michael is working on the south access, sniper. It’s able to be a one-person job, but a little help would be efficient. But, uh, Trevor’s route is on the North. He’s got the more open position and will be using an assault rifle. Two gunners would also be good… Either way, your help is much needed.”

You listened closely then realised you had to pick your partner. Michael and Trevor began hoping, yearning for your answer. They both had their ears out in case you say their name.

“You mentioned two gunners would be good? I wouldn’t mind partnering with Trevor.”

The way he threw his hands up in the air with victory. You jumped, not preparing for his sudden outburst.

“YES! FUCKIN’ YES!”

Michael looked defeated and he rolled his eyes, refusing to look in your direction. He was bitter that his old pal had caught your attention the most; the psychotic, mommy-issued freak.

“Oh, sugar, I ain’t gonna let you down.” He’d giddily chuckle and lean into your shoulder.

“Alright, [y/n] and Trevor are together. The plan is… Essentially closed.” Announced Lester.

“Yeah, yeah… Whatever. I got shit to do.”

“Awww, don’t be such a bad loser, Mikey. I’ll be sure to tell you all about our fun when it’s over.” Trevor winked before throwing an arm around your shoulder, “Now… [l/n]. How’d you like the sound of T.P.I?”

#trevor philips #grand theft auto 5 #gta v #grand theft 5 #grand theft auto #gta 5 #trevor gta #trevor philips x reader #trevor philips/reader #trevor philips fanfiction #trevor philips headcanons #trevor philips/you #trevorphilips #grandtheftauto #grand theft auto v #my fanfiction #my fanfic writing #asks #requests

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section-69 · 2 months ago

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Just noticed I've had a couple bingos so here, see my update for @batmanisagatewaydrug 's 2025 book bingo! So far I've really just been reading whatever (including 38 books not pictured) but I'll need to intentionally look for the very new releases, historical fiction (I've read a lot that Might count but were too mythological for me to count in good conscience), and the zine. Reviews below for anyone interested:

Literary Fiction: Betty by Georges Simenon:- In which a recently divorced woman has a bit of a breakdown and reflects on how she got here. This was... Very French. By which I mean quite ethereal, and like it doesn't really care if you're understanding or enjoying what's happening. I think I liked it, but I think I'd like to read it untranslated. French books tend to work better In French. (Library book.)

Short Story Collection: Lust, Caution and Other Stories by Eileen Chang:- Set of kitchen-sink type stories about regular Chinese people, around the time of the Communist revolution but largely ignoring this. This was quite lovely. Unfortunately I speak very little Cantonese and even less Mandarin, so I can't speak to the quality of the translations, but the stories - while not, on the whole, all that interesting - were a very special slice of life. What stuck out was the constant presence of Indian labourers and shop keepers - I got the feeling there were some political overtones I don't know enough yet to grasp. (Library book.)

Sequel: Oath Breaker by Michelle Paver:- Part of a children's fantasy series about a young boy in Stone Age Europe, this book sees the main character seek revenge for the death of his cousin and friend. Being the fifth in a chosen-one type series, things are getting a little repetitive (bad things happen to main character, main character lashes out at friends because he's a teenager now, eventually has to work with other people anyway, kills the bad guy), but the emotional catharsis of this one brought it home. I'd really like to know what's going on with the other characters, though. (Borrowed)

Childhood Favourite: Harry the Poisonous Centipede by Lynne Reid Banks:- A young poisonous centipede, along with his friend and his mother, tries to survive and not get into Too much mischief in a dangerous world. I've been looking for this book for ages - it's what got me thinking about language as a kid, because "Harry" is not the centipede's real name, on account of centipedese being unpronounceable to humans. Formative fiction. Mostly it holds up - absolutely loved reading about what's usually called a creepy crawly, and the narrator's voice was great. A bit dated in some respects - there's a spanking scene, and some weirdness about how people in South America spend their time (unclear if it's from the centipede's perspective or the human narrator's). (Z-library.)

20th Century Speculative Fiction: Lanark by Alasdair Gray:- I can't begin to describe the plot of Lanark, except that it's set both in Glasgow and in a hellish dystopian post-Glasgow place called Unthank, and that it's one of the great Scottish novels. I read and disliked Old Men In Love by Alasdair Gray last year and didn't much like it, bit sexist, but there was Something in the weird, multimedia, out of order way it was told that made me want more. Lanark delivered and then some. The sexism is still there, but very clearly From The Character and called out by the author (who features as a character in the epilogue, which comes about halfway through the novel). Maybe he's a bit too fascinated by sexualised violence and pervert men - not my place to say, I think - but for me it lands. Commentary on God, on Glasgow, and on writing do as well. There's a bit where he just lays out all the things he plagiarised for this, half of them made up, and says it'd be a better book if he'd plagiarised Burns too. (Bought from local bookshop.)

Fantasy: Servant of the Bones by Anne Rice:- A Jewish man sacrifices himself so his people will be allowed to leave Babylon in safety, is betrayed by a witch, and becomes an immortal spirit tied to his own bones. I was initially expecting to put this under the "horror" category, but apart from specific scenes it's SF/Fantasy for sure. It... Could have been more interesting than it was, I think. Perhaps I've read too much Anne Rice - half of my boredom was that it didn't stand out especially much from any of her other stories - the genocide bit was functionally just Queen of the Damned but with a more racist villain - but in retrospect that's not really a fault with This Book so much as a personal gripe. There were lots that I'd have liked her to dwell on more than the main character's sex life through the ages, but that's Ms Rice for you. On y va. (Bought secondhand).

Published Before 1950: The Art of War by Sun Tsu:- Self explanatory, treatise on how to do war. Big fan of claiming classical stuff as being pre-1950. Though I don't suppose "classical" extends to China? Spring and Autumn period, Wikipedia tells me, I'll look into that more later. Anyway, loved how many bits were essentially "it's better to win a fight than to lose a fight", and "if you know you're going to lose, it's better not to fight". He really emphasised those. (Library audiobook).

Indie Publisher: At Lease This I Know by Andrés N. Ordorica:- Poetry collection about the experience of being a gay immigrant from the US to Scotland as a Latino. Honestly... this didn't work for me. I wanted to like it - I think I would have if I were still where I was at 14 - but it relies on such a level of self hatred over being a gay man, it wound up coming across a bit funny to me. Style wise the poems weren't my thing either. Someone else might love it. (Library book.)

Graphic Novel/Comic book/Manga: Ruruoni Kenshin (Volume One) by Nobuhiro Watsuki:- Former legendary swordsman turned peaceful wanderer helps a young woman defend her dojo from Yakuza et al.. I really like this era of manga. I wouldn't say the art or the writing were Great, but they were very genuine, and truly that's all I care about. Props for having a woman run the dojo and be very good at swords also! I have no time for boys club mangas. (Read online).

Animal on the Cover: Pig Tales by Marie Darrieussecq:- Sexual violence and also fascism as viruses that seduce people into acting like and ultimately becoming animals. Another one I can't summarise in short form - it's disturbing, it's erotic, rotting bodies get eaten by starving asylum patients when the regime that put them there falls. I was Not expecting any of this, picked up the book knowing nothing and read it in one sitting. Definitely gonna reread this. Feminist horror I both can't recommend more, and can't stress enough how much it will disturb you. I question the person who left it in a children's play park. (From park book swap box).

Set in a Country you have Never Visited: Ice Bound on Kolguev by Aubyn Trevor Battye:- An unimaginably stupid Victorian naturalist strands himself on an Arctic island for months, spends multiple weeks working out that you can wear socks on your hands as gloves and that you can eat ducks, befriends native Nenet people and finds them far superior to the English in most respects. This was surprisingly lovely. Aubyn is in many ways your typical Gentleman Traveller (see above), but his utter love for botany and utter confusion about, frankly, most other things, really endeared him to me. He has his Victorian™ moments, mostly stress induced, but his second passion to botany is accurately learning and representing other languages and dialects, so he meets other cultures more on their own level than others of his ilk. Also shout out to Forgotten Books for enabling me to buy this as a paperback. (Bought new online)

Science Fiction: Angel of the Blockade by Alex Wells:- Blind smuggler harbours group of Jewish refugees against her will. This is a bit of a cheat entry - at 36 pages it's a novella at best - but I downloaded it as a book and it's on Goodreads so I'm counting it for now. This... Yk, I think it reminded me of The City We Became by N.K. Jemisin, where the concept absolutely slaps but the execution is a bit... I realise the hypocrisy here, but a bit Tumblr for me. The swearing feels unnatural in the "you absolute fuckwaffle" sort of way, people's identities are stated carefully and succinctly, and everyone's queer in a way that feels like it's ticking boxes more than establishing characters. I'm not into it, which is a shame, because I think I'd like to be. (Online free)

Nonfiction: The Popol Vuh, modern English translation by a translator whose name I forgot to note down:- K'iche' sacred text. I knew very little about this people and their religion, except of course that Spanish colonialism had devastated the region, so this was really fascinating to read. The presence of Christianity was painful - this being an oral tradition that was written down in early colonial days, with the knowledge that the world has changed irrevocably. As such, this isn't Fully a primary source, but is the closest we can get. (Read online)

Read & Make a Recipe: Banana bread recipe from The Joy of Cooking by Irma Rombauer:- My copy's from the 50s, but this is a cookbook from the 30s, and includes lots of aspics plus how to skin a squirrel. I wasn't that adventurous this time, but the banana bread was great. (Bought at flea market)

Horror: Ghost Stories of an Antiquary by M. R. James:- Ghost stories from 1911, apparently had an influence on Lovecraft, which you can really see in the story "Oh Whistle and I'll Come to You, My Lad". I've since read every ghost story M.R. James ever published. The humour, the cattiness towards his fellow academics, the medievalism of it all... I love. Montague, if you're ghosting around out there, send me some new stories. (Read online)

Librarian Recommendation: Paradise Lost by John Milton:- Puritan retelling of Genesis in the style of The Aeneid. I'd be more inclined to charity here if I hadn't just read and loved The Pilgrim's Progress by John Bunyan, and wasn't in the middle of reading Dante's The Divine Comedy. Absolutely nothing holds up to Dante, and The Pilgrim's Progress has a female main character in its second book, who has agency and everything, so... I've wound up having higher standards for Puritan writers than I might have otherwise. Maybe it's cause Milton was a parliamentarian and Bunyan was a preacher, but the religion here is so confused with Greek mythology in a way that feels more like an appeal to intellectuals than a statement about religion, and either way it only helps the story as it clings to The Aeneid, which at least did a good deal of calling out Rome as it clung to Homer. Very sorry to Kay who told me I should read it - she was right actually, I'm glad I've read Paradise Lost now, but. Yeah. Hated that. (Read online).

#book bingo #bookblr

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knightofhylia · 11 months ago

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After getting the energy reading from pearlescent-princess I decided to pull some cards to figure out what the symbolism meant. Since the spirit they contacted was very clearly Hylia, I asked her! Particularly I was interested in what the constellations were meant to represent. Very image and text heavy!

The Rearing Equine

The Gleaming Shortsword

The Apple

Application to IRL, Time frame?

Next Step

At first I thought that the constellations meant that something was going to happen (looking to the stars to predict the future) but I think it may be more focused on historical constellations, mainly that they are figures of myth who were ascended to the heavens after a specific deed the gods deemed worthy. With this in mind I looked at cards thinking of prior accomplishments. The Rearing Equine: The Tower being ultimate upheavel and Strength being inner strength paired with the imagery of a rearing horse brought me to the conclusion that this symbolizes my recovery from BPD. Trying to tame my BPD was like taming a wild horse. I was thrown off so many times in the beginning I didn't want to continue. If I wanted to go one way my BPD pulled the other way. Any stability was short lived and often had a catastrophic breakdown when I couldn't hold onto the reigns anymore. None of this came easy or without support, but in the end I was able to pull myself out have been in recovery for over a year! The Gleaming Shortsword: Two of Swords in this deck is a lot more positive than it's usual RWS companion. Instead of being at a standstill and stalemate, this is about cutting through the obstacles by working together. Paired with the Death card, there's a lot of duality and change represneted here. I believe this symbolizes my loyalty and boundaries. I grew up convinced I was unlovable because I was a transgender freak and I would die a unmarried virgin and never date anyone. I've been married for 5 years now so obviously that didn't go as planned, I wasn't counting on other transgender freaks being out there LOL. I gave a large knife to my husband as part of our vows which is why I believe the two of swords is a reference to our marriage. Our wedding was truly a test of who was on our side and who was not. The sword I swear my loyalty to my husband with is the same that cuts away the family and friends who wanted to see us crash and burn. The marriage was the catalyst for us to get our names changed which was a huge goal in my gender transition. I am both the princess and the warrior, perpetually dying and changing. I am not longer the miserable cisgender monogamous sex repulsed unstable person I was in my youth but I have not forgotton what I learned from her. The Apple: Temperance is probably one of my most pulled cards lol. I believe the apple symbolizes my kind,nurturing qualities as well as enjoying the fruits of my labours. Although all my life I have loved animals and nature, only within the last few years have I actually stepped up and learned what I need to make a difference. I'm now the main animal caretaker at my store and also have been working on gardening and growing our own food and taking care of the enviourment. Beforehand I was honestly afraid of most animals and felt everything I touched plant or animal wise I would kill. It took a lot of patience and learning to see that we all have the capability to nurture and grow something. The Timeframe and NExt Step card were just kind of as wrap up cards but i feel they reiterate the points. Ten of Wands being a cycle I will always be in, there will always be ups and downs, always mental hoops to jump through. There is no timeframe as it's always happening! Queen of Bottles to me is a reminder to keep doing what I'm doing. I am deeply connected with the animals and plants that I steward and despite feeling like the only person who cares sometimes, it is always worth it to care! I have worked very hard to be where I am now and the Divine is familiar and supports me!

#tarot reading #tarot #legend of tarot #pop culture paganism #pc pagan #tarot cards #tarot deck #divination #cartomancy #card divination #pop culture pagan #pop culture magic #pop culture witchcraft #pc witchcraft #pc magic #hyrulean pc

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semper-legens · 7 months ago

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124. Of the Flesh

Owned: No, library Page count: 276 My summary: A woman scorns another on a flight and finds herself gaining weight no matter how little she eats. A child labourer in a mine prays to an ancient deity. A woman flees the ghost of her lover's wife. An immigrant attempts to escape his tormentor. Horror and reality mesh together in this collection of creepy short stories. My rating: 3/5

I'm a sucker for a horror short story collection. I love horror stories, and the short story format is one that perfectly lends itself to horror - a creepy concept, a quick twist in the tale, in and out quickly but in a way that leaves a lasting impression, particularly if it is a tale well-told. So this one, with a creepy flower eyeball on the front, looked very much like the kind of thing I could find myself liking. In practice, it was a bit more of a mixed bag. I haven't exactly been subtle in the past about my feelings on litfic, that particularly pretentious genre of literary fiction where we don't use speech marks for some fucking stupid reason and everything's just kind of wanky and nonsense. Well, this fell into that more often than I would have liked, and I have to mark it down for that. Don't get me wrong, there was a lot to like here, but…it was just sort of less than I would have liked. Worth a read, but I'm not really gonna be looking to track it down again, you know?

Overall, this collection was very much a mixed bag. We had some stories that were just kind of there to be stories, just there to be creepy, and there's nothing wrong with that! There were also the stories that were there to deliver a moral or that had a message, and that was interesting…in some cases. The beauty and the peril of the short story is that you don't have a lot of time to get your ideas across, and some of these stories fell prey to that pitfall. Some of the stories in this collection don't really seem to have much of a point, or are trying to create an ambiguous atmosphere but just end up being too vague, or something like that. There's a lot of misses here, though some of the hits really hit! The tone of them was creepy over outright horror, which sometimes worked and sometimes didn't. A real variety here, but unfortunately the variety was between things that worked and things that didn't.

I'll talk about two of the stories that I had a particularly strong reaction to here, as an example of what I mean. The first is Going Large, a story I very much didn't like. The premise of it is that this woman, who is obsessed with being skinny, sees a larger woman on a plane and treats her very unkindly. She then finds herself gaining weight, no matter how little she eats, and sees the world treat her far worse because of it. She works out that if she eats a lot, she actually loses weight, so ends up eating lots and returning to her previous appearance, but with a bit more of understanding and solidarity with larger women. The moral thrust of this story was flawed. As someone who is overweight myself, I really didn't like that the protagonist is 'punished' for being an asshole by being fat. The way she's described at the larger weight frames it as disgusting - she's huge, she's fat, she's greasy, she's wearing unflattering clothes, all of this - which I don't think promotes the anti-discrimination message that I think the author was going for. Yes, society treats fat people abysmally, in particular fat women, but if the narrative frames being fat as a disgusting punishment (even from the clearly-not-nice protagonist's point of view) it isn't going to make fat women feel any better about being fat. The fact that she's skinny in the end doesn't mitigate it any. Oh, she's a skinny woman who has to eat hamburgers. Skinny women who eat a lot in the real world are treated as quirky - fat women are demonised for eating anything. The story also makes weight discrimination seem like more of a personal thing, when really it's a societal issue. If every individual became nicer, that wouldn't stop systemic discrimination against fat people. The story just doesn't tackle its themes well, and that's really disappointing in this kind of morality horror.

The second, which I considered to be the best of the collection, was Shade. In this story, a Bolivian child works in a silver mine, and becomes close to the local folk deity of the mine, El Tío. The supernatural horror angle is in El Tío's adoption of the boy, and how El Tío protects him from kidnappers when they come for him later, but the more interesting angle is that of colonial violence and how the protagonist and his community have been affected by the ongoing mark of colonialism. The story isn't exactly subtle about it - the protagonist talks about how his people have had Pachamama forcibly replaced with El Tío, for example - but the brutality of life under colonialism is in everything. The fact that this child is mining and can't go to school. The fact that this is the best he can get, that this industry will kill him one way or another, the way that the mountain eats men in a metaphorical and all too literal way. The fact that they are mining for the benefit of other people, that they will never see the bounty of their efforts and that the silver they mine is worth more than they will see in a lifetime. It's a very real problem affecting many places in the real world, and its portrayal here is both brutal and necessary. This is an issue that more people should be aware of, should be angry about, and the story is very clear where it stands. And it's also a creepy horror story!

Next up, ancient Rome, and this time we're checking out what women are up to!

#Of The Flesh #bookblr #book blog #book blogger #book blogging #3

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gatheringfiki · 1 year ago

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GatheringFiKi Interest Survey 2023 - Results

Hi folks,

First of all, huge thank you to those who took the time to fill in our recent survey. We have now reviewed the results and have a couple of points we’d like to share.

1) The Headcount:

The first, biggest and most welcome surprise from the Survey is that there are so MANY of you! And most of you are new faces, which I think is just wonderful! Welcome, welcome, one and all!

The total of 23 people took part in the Survey (admittedly some of whom I have never seen take part in any events, but I have high hopes).

When I was leaving for my travels in September 2022, a similar Interest Survey presented a bleak picture, very different to today, with a number of people having clearly moved on (though not all!). Personally, I think it was the right call to accept and acknowledge that, re-subscribe those truly interested today, and re-focus my efforts and events targetting where it's actually wanted.

Please remember that if you ARE interested in taking part in our events, you can always ask to have personal notifications delivered to you whenever one is running - just message @linane-art

Of course, I am fully aware and very grateful that, apart from the folks taking part, there are also quite a few of you who consume the new content, read, watch, like, comment, reblog or just silently marvel and enjoy their (guilty?) pleasure. I love and appreciate you all.

2) Your Favourite Existing Events:

12 Days of Christmas - 18 votes

FiKi Week - 14 votes

Trick or Treat - 12 votes

Drabble Challenges - 11 votes

Durin's Day Gift Exchange - 11 votes

Kink Bingo - 9 votes

H/C Bingo - 8 votes

AUpocalypse - 7 votes

Fandom Raffle Exchange - 5 votes

Show Some Love - 5 votes

Fic of a Fic - 4 votes

Fanfic Rec Bingo - 2 votes

Secret Admirers - 1 vote

Round Robins - 0 votes

No surprises near the top: 12 Days has just ran and is beloved by everyone and FiKi Week is like THE Gatheringfiki event.

Trick or Treat also ran recently, but I think you also have a particular penchant for everything spooky/autumny.

Drabble Challenges are quick and easy, and I think a natural choice for a 'top up' event next to the big ones. I wonder if those of you who haven't experienced the speed and the 'write off all your other weekend plans'-ness of this event will think of it. :D

DDGE surprises a little, because it's a big commitment of an event, but I guess maybe because we're not running the Raffle regularly any more, and it's a similar enough thing? Or like a Big Bang? And there's nothing else that promotes actual collaborations. Intriguing.

The Bingos - always heat up the temperature in the room. I think those of you who want them, want them like burning. I also think (looking at hit counts), that there are also many more of you who, ah, enjoy the fruits of our labours, but like... anonymously and silently :D So long as those are not ran too often, I think they're a blast, and it's been 2 years.

AUpocalypse juuuust about makes it, but I think it has a special place, as it's the one event where artists can participate easily and have a fully free reign of what they create.

Please remember that if you are an artist and you're not sure how you can take part, we have this here handy guide for you.

Raffle is probably too big for the headcount we have, rec-type-events have not been popular for a few years now, Secret Admirers still out of favour (why???) and nobody liked Round Robins - fair enough.

3) Other Comments we got / possible New Events:

'A Dead Dove Event' - what is it, I've never comes accross it? Please message me on priv ;)

'Bring-A-Friend Event' - The incest thing will make some people uncomfortable, and those that check us out 'as a courtesy' are unlikely to actually get hooked. I think, by all means, spread the word if you know folks who might enjoy our fandom, but mostly it needs to be discovered on your own. Awareness of GF is the key.

'FiKi Bingo' - We already run 2 bingo-type events and a FiKi Week. I think that ticks both the desired format and desired content boxes.

'Valentine's Day Event' - there is nothing like that per se, but it is no coincidence that the Kink and H/C Bingos usually run around the time when everyone is feeling loved-up ;)

'I don't feel comfortable sharing my own content' - that is perfectly okay and your own choice. Nobody is going to try and push you. But I will say that if you have a supportive fandom, feedback can do wonders for your self-esteem and practice makes perfect. Otherwise, thank you just as much for your silent support.

'Discord Server' - I thought about it, but I think it'll be more of a problem than help. I don't know how to set it up, don't have the capacity to moderate it, only some people would be interested and many people will resist change. We've always said that Tumblr is our native platform and on Tumblr we will remain - don't want to dilute the fandom accorss multiple platforms, sorry.

'October Advent Calendar' - I'm sorry, I don't quite see how it would be different/better than Trick or Treat, except longer? Plus, 12 Days, which runs right after, has that element of 'something new to discover' every day ;)

'FiKi Mad Libs and Frankenstory' - see: Round Robins Event. And it scored 0 points, the poor thing :(

'Visual / phrase / poem / porny inspiration' - visual is addressed by 12 Days. Phrase/poem will be addressed by FiKi Week ;) Porny will be blocked by Tumblr :(

'Reblog-focussed Events' - Yes, agreed, but in the competition for calendar availability, all our rec-type events consistently lose out to out content-creating events. So we resort to caveating all our summary posts with pleas for reblogging and commenting. :/

I also wanted to take this opportunity to thank everyone for the wonderful and humbling words of encouragement I’ve received. I do what I do because of the people in this fandom and I will continue doing so for as long as there is interest in it. It’s what being in a fandom means to me, and hopefully it inspires some of you too :)

A Calendar of Events for 2024 will follow in a separate post.

Wishing you all a cracking New Year, filled with inspiration, joy, passion and feels, hopefully all whipped up by those problematic 2 little a$$holes...

~gatheringfiki

#Fili/Kili #FiKi #Durincest #the Hobbit #Mitchers #Britchell #DarkHawk #GatheringFiKi #Interest Survey

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twcwheeler · 9 months ago

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Me remembering how I need to clean write my Arcee's past because I took many liberties.

Technically, before war she was a dancer, a performer. Entertaining the crowds in finest places. Through art, through aesthetics. She was very different back then. Full of hope and dreams. But also, out of all she wished to fly like some of her extended family - which to her frame and small wings were never going to support

Many of her battle movements seem to share grace of movement and even gymnastics - her jumps reaching the skies, her fearlessness of heights. She is clearly built to move with precision and great agility. When war broke - she had to adapt the best she could. She doesn't have size or a strength for her advantage. She was never meant for hard labour or battle. But due to loss of her home... she wanted to be able to protect herself and anyone she grew to love... she wanted to fight for justice to those she lost.

Her aggression, sarcasm and hostility we witness. I see it is very much of her being deep down insecure and afraid of loss or getting hurt - pushing any idea of attachment aside in fear of being hurt again and again. She takes loss of her allies very personally - despite having a kill count of her own. War is always ugly. Both sides have faults and crimes of their own in their case.

Post war case - I loved to see her evolve from that. Seeing those who served other side more like people - realizing horrible things SHE also committed. What her cause did. But adapting back to anything alike to a normal life. It's hard. There are no more grand theatres or those supporting - and she isn't that same mechanism anymore who could just perform for life. It reminds her too much... but her wish to do that again one day, still remains.

#✾ — └ ˢʰᵉ'ˢ ᵒᵛᵉʳᵖʳᵒᵗᵉᶜᵗᶤᵛᵉˑ ᶤ'ᵐ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵖʳᵒᵗᵉᶜᵗᶤᵛᵉ ┐ — HEADCANON #|| very short summary of all #|| her tfp design is so similar to Starscream I could not think she wouldn't have any seeker / flier type in her - like even little bit #|| she has some sharp details compared to Autobots - like how I love designs in the show!#|| bots are soft and roundish of design - cons are sharp and have more hunter like features #|| and to new followers - I associate Cee with birds a lot haha

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oleworm · 1 year ago

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@girlmaturin tagged me! What were my six favourite books of 2023?

This is going to be a difficult one. First of all because I appreciate books for different reasons, it can be because I learned a lot, because it made me think about new things even though (or because of the fact) that it made me uncomfortable, or simply because it fits my aesthetic or thematic tastes. It wouldn’t be fair to pit completely different books against each other, but I’ll try to do what I can!

There’s also the fact that this is the year that I’ve read the most books in my life since I started counting them. Maybe not 100 but 96! You can laugh at me, but to be fair a lot of these were short books, or essays or short stories that I saved as an e-book and counted independently. I’ve been reading a lot of older books that I had at home or bought secondhand and it really makes me think that contemporary books are so big! It used to be normal to find lots of books that were 100-190 pages long about a specific topic or just because the author wanted to type out their thoughts. I don’t know how much the cost of publishing has increased, but it seems as if every book has to be definitive and huge in order to justify the expense.

1) The Fall of the House of Usher by Edgar Allan Poe

I’m counting this as a book since I found it as an e-book on Project Gutenberg. I was a child the first time that I read it, so a lot of the implications went over my head. This time around I was fascinated by how it synthesises the ideas of the epoch—the insularity of the upper classes in a time of increased social mobility (Poe was, after all, an American) countered with eugenic fears of fixing unfavourable traits into a bloodline through repeated inbreeding. It’s fascinating that the text lays it out so clearly. There’s this line that stuck to me, about how the house of Usher never allowed any branches to grow too far from the trunk of the tree, and then there was this part when Roderick Usher describes the psychological traits that afflict the family—I say afflict because they are disturbing to him—not as a result of the circumstances of their lives, but a part of their inborn nature. It brought to mind the way that Vincent van Gogh described his depression to his brother, who also suffered from it. “The root of the evil lies in the constitution,” that is how I remember it, though I could be wrong because it was in translation and it has been quite a while since I read about the subject. It reminded me of that, and how people describe dogs with behavioural issues caused by poor breeding.

Anyway, a little insect encased in amber for the neuroses of an age!

2) The Silver Metal Lover by Tanith Lee

A sheltered girl falls in love with a realistic robot—you would expect a pulpy romance novel but this was so much more than that to me.

It’s a story about a girl that has been sheltered all her life and does not realise that she is being abused by her mother, who controls every aspect of her life by making her feel that she is too innocent, too stupid to make a choice even with such personal things as her interests or her physical appearance. There were some mean-spirited interpretations of this little book, calling it a poor littlen rich girl story. But rich girls can cry too!

But besides, the heart of the situation, beyond all the fantastic, futuristic aspects, is one that can happen to anyone, regardless of their socioeconomic background.

One thing that I like very much about Tanith Lee is her ability to join different genres and settings. For example, in this one she described economic inequality and labour issues caused by automatisation and at the same time had the socialite characters talk in a droll, misogynistic manner that is right out of Saki. But writing this review I realise that these are not elements that are discordant with each other, though superficially they appear to be. Of the popular writers I have read she is one of those who best understands that the long 19th century may well be even longer—ha-ha, historians, don’t kill me!

I found it funny to be reading this book at the height of the AI-debate, as one of its main plot points was the fear that artists had of being replaced by machines that could “create” new and better works from the wealth of artworks that had been made by human artists before. I’ll probably remember that, if I live long enough to see what happens later.

3) Light in Gaza: Writings Born of Fire, edited by Jehad Abusalim, Jennifer Bing, and Mike Merryman-Lotze

Before this year I hadn’t read any books by Palestinian authors, so when I saw that this book was being shared freely and that it had some names that I already recognised I thought it would be a good place to start.

The fact that so many people contributed to it was the main reason that I chose it, there are so many different points of view, everyone emphasises a different part of life in Gaza, their experiences with their family, their work, their fields of expertise. There’s university professor who describes not only the subject matter of his lessons, but also the difficulties faced by students whose classrooms and study materials can be destroyed at any moment. The architect talks about the settlement pattern in Gaza, and how families prefer to construct their own homes in a way that the extended family may continue to reside together, though logistically it is not always possible to do so. The student provides a narrative of her daily routine, and how everyone must plan their day around the water and electricity shortages, and what difficulties this presents to cooking, cleaning and studying, activities that a lot of us take for granted. Most of the writers talk about the anger and frustration of having to deal with borders and checkpoints, the separation of family and friends for years and decades at a time across relatively short distances in the Palestinian Territories, in Israel and neighbouring countries, as well as the loss of opportunities abroad when people are impeded from leaving or fear that they might be prevented from returning.

Somebody said that it wasn’t right that Palestinians should always have to humanise themselves to the eyes of foreigners, hoping that we might care. I agree, because it is true that we should care for other human beings without having every detail of their suffering described to us. This book has sad parts, parts that are extremely frustrating, but it has moments of fun and happiness too. And the authors wanted people to read it and remember, and I want you to read it too.

The publisher has shared it for free download here.

4) When the Angels Left the Old Country by Sacha Lamb

I listened to the audiobook for this one on the Platform Formerly Known as Scribd and have ordered a physical version to have at home. I was so sad when it ended!

I loved reading about Little Ash and Uriel, a Jewish demon and angel who leave their shtetl when one of the girls from the village goes missing on her way to America. The research that went into it made me want to read more about the historical period in which it was set, and it didn’t stay a resolution—I did end up reading a book about Jewish life in the Russian Empire!

As an immigration story, it made sense that one of the tensest moments in the book was the medical examination by the immigration officials—sadly, in many countries the discrimination of sick and disabled people is still a real problem, though I hope that it will change in our lifetimes, as it did with racial quotas. It’s sold as a Young Adult book but adults would enjoy it too, as it deals with complex issues in an accessible manner but without leaving them flattened.

5) The Idiot by Elif Batuman

As a reader of Russian literature I’m surprised that I didn’t find this book earlier! It was really funny and cute and you could tell how young Selin was supposed to be in this story. Like when she imagines her crush to be like a love interest in a Russian book even though they’re in the 20th century and he’s a completely different type of Eastern European just because his name is very similar to Ivan! There’s a very funny scene also where she talks with a psychologist about her mostly online relationship with this person and he says “Hm… He reminds me of the Unabomber,” and she gets all defensive about it because there is a kernel of truth to it, he is posing as this edgy intellectual and she does not truly know who he is outside these characters they have created in their epistolary world.

I love the way Selin talks about her friends and the books she reads, Elif Batuman really captured what it’s like to be that age, and it was refreshing to read a book about a girl where horrible things don’t happen to her and she can continue learning and being herself.

6) El miedo en el Peru, siglos XVI al XX, edited by Claudia Rosas Lauro

A series of academic articles about fear in Peru in the 16th to 20th centuries. What people were afraid of and what were the social, cultural, religious and political reasons that they might be afraid of a particular thing.

I am adding this to the list because of one specific article—it is introduced as being about the fear of one’s parents, but in particular it talks about a number of legal cases where people were attempting to leave monastic orders claiming to have been made to join under duress—either because they were underage at the time of their vows, or because they had been threatened with physical violence by their relatives, often their parents. I found it interesting, there is a clear parallel between being forced to join a monastic order and entering an unwanted marriage. The arguments that can be used are the same, that the person was too young to meaningfully consent, or only accepted to preserve a degree of bodily integrity. Many of these victims had been threatened, even with death, because the parents wished for their properties to pass on to another one of their relatives. Having taken a vow of poverty, a monk would no longer be entitled to it. It also happened sometimes that these young men would join a monastic order to escape violence in the home. There were other cases where it wasn’t a relative, but rather a priest or another religious authority that convinced a young person that he should take monastic vows, while being too young to understand them or not having received a proper explanation of the terms.

There were other cool articles, such as the one where the fear of piracy overlapped with the fear of heresy because most of the pirates that accosted the Spanish Empire were Protestants from Great Britain or the Netherlands, or the one about the people who chose or were made to starve to death under siege because of Royalist propaganda about the Republican army’s brutality.

This came out rather long… Because I haven’t been typing it directly on the computer where there are so many distractions. I ordered myself an AlphaSmart 3000 over the holidays, it’s an electronic typewriter that you can plug into your computer to transfer what you’ve written before. It’s very pleasant to type in, and it’s also satisfying to see how the letters appear on the word processor when the device transfers the text, it emulates a keyboard so it looks as if it were typing in real time. Don’t worry, I’m not being paid to advertise for a company that no longer exists. If people with similar tastes to mine found it fun or useful I thought I may as well try it out. So far I’ve written a story on this and half-way typed up a draft of a much longer one. Just make sure that if you use different languages on your computer that it’s configured to the English keyboard when you transfer text, otherwise strange symbols may appear!

I’m tagging @bacchanalium, @sifilide, @tetrachromate, @osmanthusoolong, @bogfox and @sherbertilluminated if they want to!

#ole blog #tag games

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