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stubbornnesskeepsmesane · 2 years

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Speak Ill Of the Dead Chapter 1

This is a fic loosely based on a larp loosely based on the M*A*S*H tv show. Which is loosely based on a film loosely based on a book loosely based on a war, but not the one that it’s about. Basically what I’m saying is don’t expect historical accuracy here.

=-=-=

Through early morning fog I saw raindrops large as tears crashing down onto blackened earth, as though they were trying to batter Korea into submission. Hell, the United States army had been trying a long time with no success, might as well let the rain have a go. Better raindrops than blood, and there's been a whole lot of both these last two years. I turned away from the window and back to the desk I was about to lose.

The name's Mouse, though my dog tags call me Captain M. Richards. Three guesses what the M stands for? Yeah, right first time. Bunch of jokers in the army and I am not a vindictive person but if I ever get my hands on that Walt Disney, it won't be pretty.

I'm a shrink for my sins. Also known as the doctor who worked all the way through med school, then retained to get some extra qualifications, just to get dismissed as a drop out who couldn't hack real medicine. Most people don't even believe I've got a medical degree at all.

I would ask what I’d done wrong to get stuck in a MASH unit, but I knew exactly what. Do your job too well and you too will get a visit from some MPs with an exciting new opportunity to fall down some stairs. I woke up with a three day headache and a brand new commission to the MASH rotation. It’s not fair, but then if you’re looking for fairness the army is not the place to find it.

So here I was, "accepting" a transfer to the Mobile Army Surgical Hospitals rotation. First stop, the 7040. They needed someone to tell them whether or not it was crazy to want out of this mess. Apparently they needed a qualified professional to tell them that.

There was a file, but I didn’t have the heart to read it. I knew what it said

There would be surgeons, all of them crazy. In the army surgical corps, you’re either a high-functioning alcoholic or you ain’t functioning.

There would be nurses, and if I was really lucky they’d have already given up on caring. Idealistic young kids who get into nursing to help people and save lives, then find themselves 5 miles behind the line looking at broken young bodies with old, old eyes. If I'm lucky, they won't try and take me down that spiral of despair with them. Pity luck ain’t my specialty.

There would be Corpsmen, stretched to the limit but grateful to be somewhere that wasn’t meant to be under direct fire. It usually was, but the fact it wasn’t meant to be maybe counted for something.

Then there was the rest. There was usually a preacher of some flavor, Padre or Rabbi or some such. I didn’t get on with preachers. Promises of heaven don’t mean much when you’re living through hell every day. There might be locals or interpreters or any of the various hangers on you find around army units. Some people looking for hope, and others looking to prey on the first lot.

Yeah, I didn’t have to look through the file to know what I was getting. I turned away from the window and took a long pull on my cigarette. Right now I wasn't focusing on what I was getting, but on what I was losing.

It wasn't a good office, but it was mine. The frosted window was as cracked as the leather on the couch and didn't so much keep the wind out as funnel it into a freeze ray like a dime store superhero. The Military Hand-Book And Soldier's Manual of Information, that uplifting volume of heroic wisdom, was doing military service holding up the corner of my desk, and Freud's Interpretation Of Dreams was my favorite coaster. The drawers rattled, the door stuck, and the whole place smelt of gin.

That last might be my fault.

Still, bright side to everything, it wasn't gonna be my problem for too long. As of 0800 tomorrow I was M*A*S*H 7040's problem. Good luck to them.

-=-=-

We had been flying for several hours when Cody, the taciturn helicopter pilot and my current best friend - at least until we landed - shouted something at me and I strained to catch it over the tremendous racket of the helicopter. The air was screaming in pain as the blades sliced the clouds to ribbons.

"What?" I yelled back, giving up completely on the pretense of having been paying attention. Cody glared briefly in my general direction, but was concentrating more on keeping the bird in the air.

"I said, brace for landing!"

The chopper lurched once and then dropped towards the dusty ground. I assured myself this was meant to happen and moved on to more immediate things, like not losing my lunch all over Cody. He seemed like a stand up guy with a fine right hook and didn't need that kind of distraction while he was busy trying to stop the ground from doing what it does best.

Somehow, the chopper came down with a few jolts that did no more than rattle a few bones. Resisting the urge to count my fillings, I thanked Cody for an excellent and pleasant flight - it doesn't do to be too blunt to someone when they're your only getaway driver - and he tipped his hat in silent acknowledgement as I promised to buy him a drink later. Something told me I might need all the friends I could get here.

For lack of any better welcome, I picked my way through the dust and stones down the slight incline towards the haphazard collection of tents that comprised my life for the foreseeable future. Or until I was forgiven, or the war ended. Or hell froze over, which seemed the best bet from the three options.

That aside, it felt rather strange that no one had come to meet me. Even if only to tell me to beat it. As I got closer though I realised why: the helicopter wasn't the only thing screaming in this camp. I must have come hot on the heels of a full crop of wounded so the fact that no one was left free to notice my arrival was either a glowing testimonial to their dedication or a sign of how desperately short staffed they were. I wasn't betting a nickel on option one.

My bet was confirmed when a one eyed corpsman ran past me, not even casting her one eye on me but instead straight over charging over to Cody.

"How many wounded? We've not got room!"

As Cody offered reassurance that he'd only brought one person and I was pretty healthy, I looked at the dame shouting at him. Somehow managing to be lanky yet short, she looked like she could do with a week in bed but I wasn't going to be the one to tell her. She looked like she could swing a punch too, and it would hurt through sheer force of will. I caught her on the shoulder as she hared off back again.

"Shouldn't you be in a ward somewhere? Sergeant." I added, spotting the insignia. Her eye was clearly a recent loss. The bandage was clean but fresh and the skin around it was as angry as the other eye looking out at me.

"There's no room, didn’t you hear me? We've not got anything we need right now."

"Sergeant Richards, call me Mouse. I've got medical training, where do you need me?"

She pointed out a large tent which, now I looked I could see was the epicentre of the activity. I nodded grimly and set my direction. No telling where the camp commander was, but there was a nurse who was clearly the one running the show just now anyway. I approached her as she was stepping back from one whimpering patient and was briefly pausing before moving onto another.

"Major Richards, call me Mouse. I'm a doctor, where do you need me?"

She paused, I'd clearly caught her interest with such an unexpected offer. She tucked a lock of black hair behind her ear as it escaped from her hat.

"They sent us a doc? We've only been asking for a year and a half"

"Not quite, major. I'm a shrink but I got my MD first."

"Figures" she groaned. I decided not to take it personally. "Major Carly Browning, head nurse. I'm not letting you into the O.R. when you don't know your way around, but you can still be helpful. Here."

I followed along behind as she set a sharp pace towards the post op ward

"Just out of surgery but she's running a fever and I'm not pulling any of the surgeons out to find out why. Third degree burns, right side denucleation"

Another one? That would make a total of four people I'd met here and four peepers between them. Maybe that was why they'd called me in, one of the docs had turned collector. Wouldn't be the first time I'd seen that. Wouldn't be the second, either. I grimaced.

"What's his prognosis?"

"She'll live. Probably won't thank us for that."

Major Browning pointed out a woman in standard army drabs, her eyes coated in bandages and blood, dressings all down one arm and second degree burns along the other. Probably could have done with bandaging too, but I was glad they'd left her one hand to interact with the world. I could trace exactly what happened along the lines of the scarring. A fire had caught her from above and right, probably a roof or covering, and she'd thrown up her hands to protect herself. She was sitting in one of the ubiquitous wooden chairs that subbed for bunks around here, and I didn't have to see her face to see how scared she was.

"Thanks Major. I'll take it from here."

She shot me a grateful look and dashed off to the next emergency. I picked up a chair and put it down silently in front of my new patient.

"Hello private. I'm Doctor Richards but you can call me Mouse, everyone else does." I spoke gently but clearly. She jumped and looked around, or at least tried to. So she still had her hearing. "I'm just going to put my hand on your left shoulder so you know where I am, and then I'm going to sit back in front of you." As I spoke I did as I described, and even that gentle human touch made her snap her arm up to grab mine. Carefully reaching around the worst of the damage I softly moved our hands together to rest on my knee, but I didn't let go.

"What's your name, private?"

"Thorpe, sir. Gail" She whispered, intubation and anaesthetic having finished the work the fire started on her throat. With my free hand I flagged down a passing nurse and angrily demanded a drink for her. When I saw how few staff there were though, I was mollified a little. It may have been a necessity rather than an oversight. Still needed fixed though.

"OK Gail, I'm getting you a glass of water, that'll help with your throat. Feels a bit rough, yeah? Yeah, don't worry, it's meant to. The knock out gas does that to everyone. Nothing to worry about. Where do you come from, private?"

She hesitated before croaking out "Baltimore"

"Baltimore, eh? Colts fan then, you have my sympathies. Look Thorpe, I'm not leaving you but I need to reach over here to get your chart so I'm getting to let go your hand for now but I'm still here"

"Tell me honest doc, how is it? Its bad, isn't it?"

My heart sunk to my army issue size 9s. I guess it was too much to have hoped that someone else had told her. The worst part of any medical job.

"Just give me a minute here, I wasn't the doc who did your surgery so I need to check. I'm gonna need you to drink the water that's coming and then I'll take your temperature and get your answer on that for you."

She managed a faint smile, though it clearly hurt.

"I think I've had all the temperature I can take for one day."

That's the spirit, kiddo, I thought to myself. It was hard to estimate her age, with no face and no skin to go by, but there was no way she was north of twenty five. That's no age for life as you know it to end.

As she drank the prescribed glass of water I flicked through her file and revised downwards my estimation of her age. I could see what Browning meant about her not thanking us for saving her, she had a long slow road to recovery to go and it was going to be painful. Her temperature was elevated but not unreasonable under the circumstances, but I ordered a course of penicillin just in case. Burns get infected extremely easily and this was about as far from the best of circumstances as it was possible to get.

I kept her talking, making sure she was lucid and trying to stave off the emotional shock a bit. She was a shop clerk in civvy life, drafted into hell a year ago. Helped run a girl scout troop. Her files showed she'd had terrifyingly little by way of pain relief other than the general anaesthetic, she was criminally low on painkiller. Kid should be so full of morphine by now that she could fly off to Seoul without waiting for the helicopter, instead she was wincing at even the slightest movement. I resolved to speak to someone about that when I could - some nurses are so scared the patients will get addicted that they leave them in agony instead. Also, it certainly didn't make this bit any easier.

"OK private, I've read through everything and I've examined you too. Are you ready to hear how you're doing from me, or would you rather wait till they get you to the experts in Seoul?"

She swallowed. It looked painful.

"Just tell me doc. I'm ready to hear it."

They always say that. They never are.

"Kid, there is someone up there who likes you a whole lot. Most people would be dead after what you went through, but you're alive and you're going to stay that way. That said, it's not going to be an easy few years' recovery..." She visibly flinched at the word years, but held her nerve. "... but I can promise you we'll get you back leading your girl scout troop with a purple heart to go with your badges. As soon as your buddies are out of surgery you'll all be on your way to the proper hospital in Seoul where you'll start full recuperation ready to fly home to Baltimore."

There's no good way to deliver this kind of news. I've tried many methods and it turns out there's no good way to tell bad news. There's only bad ways and worse ways.

"The surgeons here are extremely skilled and they did all it was possible to do" I lied. At least, I assumed I did. Odds are they were either hungover or amputation-happy or just plain incompetent, but a comforting lie is always better. "They were able to save the use of your hands and one eye but I'm afraid your right side sustained..."

I wasn't able to finish that thought before she burst into silent and clearly painful tears. Believe it or not that's one of the better reactions - it meant she believed me, which meant she could stay dealing with it. I reassured her that she'd still live well with one eye and the burns wouldn't hurt forever and she could wear her hair over it and look like Veronica Lake. Slowly the sobs subsided and by the time Cody was ready to take off she was able to go with dignity to her new life.

I stood up, my thighs burning from having been squatting so long, and belatedly hoped that someone had thought to offload my kit bag before Cody flew it out of my life.

The camp was strikingly quiet after the chopper took off. Like after the tornado, as the survivors pick through the wreckage trying to find a lifeline back to normality. Beds were stripped and cleaned, and surgeons wandered around in blood stained gloves until someone stripped them back too. Conversations were muted as everyone fell to their role whether that was counting the pills or moving the bodies. The padre was working overtime, two had been brought in dead and one had joined them before the sawbones had finished his ministrations. He floated through the crowd in ridiculously ornate vestments which I was later to learn was his way of showing respect. A shamrock in a sea of khaki and blood.

It has long been my opinion that if you allow yourself to fade into the background you'll spend your life there, so I set about finding the name on my transfer papers. Nobody with a sufficiently high number of stripes presented himself so I went to the OR to find instead someone to ask for directions. Looking around the tent, I ticked through first impressions to find the best doc to ask.

Alky.

Greenhorn.

I ..... I'm gonna say probably The Reason They Sent For Me.

Burnout.

Greenhorn seemed the best bet for a sensible answer.

"Hey, the name’s Richards. I’m looking for Colonel Bailey?”

She looked up, surprising me. You don’t see that many dames in the OR, and her short hair and slim build had misled me.

“Funny, you don’t look like an MP.”

“Next best thing, sweetheart. I’m a head shrinker.”

She smiled slightly “Bit late then. He went AWOL two weeks ago.”

“What?” Takes a lot to surprise me, but that’ll do it. Every time. “I thought he was the commanding officer here.”

“He was, until he went AWOL two weeks ago. I shit you not, he just upped and left in the middle of the night, him and about half the corps. No one knows why."

Wow. This place was crazier than I'd thought - and I pride myself on my cynicism.

"So who is in charge here?"

She nodded over to Burnout, who was sitting with his head in his hands looking like a man who's quit smoking at just the wrong time. Given the circumstances I couldn't blame him. I thanked her and went over.

"Need a smoke?"

He looked up briefly and waved away the suggestion.

"I quit thanks. Who're you?"

I showed him my transfer papers.

"Major Micky Richards, call me Mouse. Army psychiatrist just transferred in sir and I understand you're in charge."

"So they tell me" I wondered briefly if he was going to stay sitting but he got to his feet and I found myself looking him squarely in the chest as we saluted each other. "Major Edgar Sharp, surgeon and currently base commander till we find the old one." Something in his mind caught up with the conversation and he raised a questioning eyebrow. "Major...?"

I smiled "I always like to see that in a commanding officer, you're the first one in camp to notice. Sharp by name and nature I see. It’s a quirk of my job, I always have honorary rank the equal of whoever I'm talking to. Means no one is spilling their guts to a subordinate, and means I can order anyone to stand down if their mental state demands it."

"Can you demand I step down please? I've had enough of this. " His tone said he was joking, but his eyes told a different story.

"Sorry Major, you seem way too competent to me."

"Figures. OK Mouse, I'll get Ruby to assign you some quarters. You here for anyone in particular?"

"I was hoping you could tell me that, Major. Usually they have the psychiatric cases lined up and ready for me" I didn't make any suggestions, but could see the sawbones I'd had concerns about was now alternating smoking and swearing, two hobbies which rarely work well together but he was making a good fist of it. Sharp caught my glance but clearly decided not to engage.

"It wasn't me who sent for you but now you're here, fill your boots. I'm sure you'll find someone to talk to."

"I usually do" I saluted politely and went off to find out who Ruby was. After a little investigation I learned that Ruby was the one-eyed firecracker who had greeted me at the chopper and who was until recently the company clerk and exactly the right person to speak to about sorting out a bunk but as of three weeks ago, that duty fell to a man who apparently revelled in the name of Quacks. Quacks however was proving a lot harder to find and I ended up taking a whistlestop tour around the whole camp before using my brain and going to take a break in the clerk's office to let Quacks come to me.

It was a fairly well-appointed outfit, with a working tannoy, a reasonably modern typewriter and a few pictures to remind us what we're fighting for - and I don't mean mom's apple pie. This kid had a good eye for the ladies, and the men. Or maybe those were Ruby's. I sat back in the only chair, flinging my boots up on the desk. Take a chance to rest when you can, that's always been my motto.

One of my mottos. I have a few, and I can change ‘em when necessary.

I had barely closed my eyes when the door clattered open. At least, I think I had. It'd been a long day. A young kid with a harassed expression came in, gave a yelp of surprise, and dropped all the papers he was carrying. I smiled, and raised a toast from my hip flask before offering him the same courtesy.

"Ah, the elusive Quacks. You'll forgive me, no one felt like giving me your real name."

"Corporal Mallard, sir. Declan Mallard" It struck me that if his accent was any more southern it'd be trying to secede from his body. He tried to accept the flask at the same time as picking up the files, and ended up baptising whatever he was writing about in neat gin. I decided to take pity on him and gave him a hand.

"Captain Richards, better known as Mouse" Quirks of the job be damned, I wasn't giving one inch when my comfort was on the line. I did help him with the files though, too many years of experience allowing me to run a practised eye over then without being too obvious about it. Nothing particularly exciting but that was interesting in and of itself. Duty rosters should definitely have a lot more names on them than I was looking at.

"Quacks, when was the last time you had R&R?" I hadn't intended to get involved this early, but I couldn't help myself. Unfortunately, he misunderstood my meaning.

"It's fine sir, sorry sir. I just slipped, I didn't expect to see you here sir."

"Oh no, no that's ok." I hastily explained myself. It never does to make an enemy of the man who got to choose my bunkroom. “I more meant that it seems really short staffed here. I get that the colonel went AWOL but even so, it just seems really short staffed. Any I wanted to make sure that you’re getting to have some rest.”

"Oh. Sorry sir, I didn't think of that. Its been a while for most people but, uh, Colonel Bailey wasn't - that is, he generally felt that you could get enough of a break on the base so people generally didn't."

Jeez. Maybe the best thing this guy could have done for the unit is run out on it.

"Gotcha, yeah, I've heard of that a few times." I stayed non-committal for now, it’s not my place to get involved until I absolutely have to, and that's usually a few days in at least.

We haggled out a decent place for me to hang my hat, sharing with a couple of others but not too many. Not everyone was happy with a shrink in their room anyway. Cody had indeed had the good sense to leave my kit bag in the dust so I had the essentials - a packet of smokes and my spare hip flask. So armed I returned to the mess tent to spend the evening getting acquainted with my fellow inmates and it was only as the sandman started doing his rounds that it occurred to me I'd never asked about Private Thorpe's pain relief.

0 notes

mfingenius · 3 years

Note

Hey, I’d love a drarry in 4th year where Draco is Harry’s second task and/or they go together to the Yule Ball (a lot of provocation between them!)

Harry's staring; logically, he knows he should hurry, knows he doesn't have time to simply float around, contemplating life, but Malfoy is there, floating motionlessly beside Hermione and Gabrielle Delacour and Harry is confused.

Cho was obviously Cedric's task; that had been clear enough even before Cedric had grabbed her - while Harry had just watched, as confused as he is now - and Hermione has to be Krum's. There's no Durmstrang student, and - as far as Harry knows - Krum only talks to Hermione.

Gabrielle Delacour is Fleur's. She's her sister, it's as simple as that.

Which means that whoever designed this Merlin forsaken task thought Malfoy was 'what he'd sorely miss'.

Where the fuck were they getting their information?

Harry's startled out of his silent shock when Krum pushes by, half transformed into a shark, and frees Hermione.

He gives him an odd look while he swims back up, which is quite an impressive feat with what is possibly the least expressive animal's head as his own.

Right.

He frees Malfoy with a quick Diffindo, and grabs his wrist so he won't simply go away while he looks around; his time must be almost up - he can almost feel it, the effect of the gillyweed beginning to fade, his lungs beginning to feel unpleasant with water in them - which means Fleur needs to show up to get her sister, soon, but she's just - not.

He looks at Malfoy's face; he looks unexpectedly young and - handsome, almost - like this. There's no denying his aristocratic nose and high cheekbones are appealing - at least to Harry, who doesn't know how Ron could possibly think Malfoy's 'weird-looking' - but Harry doesn't usually have time to appreciate it, since Malfoy immediately ruins it by opening his mouth.

Fleur is still not showing up.

Gabrielle, who looks exactly like Fleur, looks like a kid even to Harry; if he'd been deemed too young to participate in the games, why is everyone in this task as young as he is, or younger?

Surely, he tries to reassure himself, the heads of school wouldn't let them rot here.

Even if the egg said they would, even if it said it 'wouldn't come back'. These are children.

Harry only has to ponder half a moment more before he decides that he doesn't trust adults that much.

A matching Diffindo frees Gabrielle, and he drags her and Malfoy up with merepeople grabbing at his feet, with his lungs filling with water, heart bursting in his chest and vision darkening at the edges because he can't breathe and he can't get out and-

He breaks the surface and hears screaming, and he's coughing up water and maybe blood - or maybe it's not his, but someone is bleeding, because the water around them is turning pink - and he wants to sink right back down, wants to rest.

"Gabrielle! Gabrielle!" Fleur's shrieking is louder than anyone else's, but Harry thinks that's fair; he's never had a sibling, but he can't imagine thinking they were going to die because of a school approved activity.

Everyone else is cheering, he realizes; they're happy for him, for them, they think this is good.

He manages to catch sight of Cedric's, Krum's, and Fleur's faces, and none of them look like they're feeling anything even slightly positive.

"Potter?" He finally looks at Malfoy. "What the bloody hell are you doing?"

Harry can't help the laugh that bubbles out of him. What is he doing? What was Malfoy doing, representing the thing Harry would sorely miss? Dumbledore - or the merepeople, or whoever made this decision - could've taken Ron, could've taken any Weasley, hell, they could've taken bloody Mrs. Norris, and Harry thinks they would've been a better choice than Malfoy.

He tightens his grip around Malfoy's and Gabrielle's arms, and begins dragging them towards the other contestants; as soon as they're there, hands are reaching in and pulling them all out, wrapping them in blankets, and Fleur is hugging Gabrielle and crying and Malfoy's teeth are chattering and Harry can still feel water in his lungs and he can't think.

"Merlin, Harry, you're bleeding!" Hermione exclaims.

Harry looks down and realizes she's right; the merepeople got him with their claws.

"Come on," she says, cheeks red from the cold. "We'll get you to the infirmary."

Slytherins keep making kissy sounds at him in the hallways, and it gets worse whenever Malfoy is around; he'd think this is Malfoy's doing, except the bastard looks just as embarrassed as Harry - if not more than Harry - when it happens.

They can't quite even look at each other anymore, let alone argue, because if they even say a word to each other, there are three dozen people suddenly watching.

Which is how Harry finds out he would kind of miss Malfoy if he were gone.

In the totally not friendly, even less romantic, entirely normal rival kind of way.

Obviously.

He likes to think Malfoy misses him a little bit too.

Which is, of course, why Harry seeks him out after checking the Marauders' map and making sure there's no one else within a hundred meters of them.

"What the-" Harry has to cover Malfoy's mouth, because if not, it would ruin his plan of quietly shoving Malfoy into the broom shed.

"Shut up, you git," he says, looking around and shutting the door behind him; Malfoy bites his hand, hard, and Harry muffles a yelp, pulling it back.

Malfoy smirks, looking quite pleased with himself, and Harry glares.

"What do you want?" Malfoy asks, looking around and upturning his nose; his features are decidedly less appealing when he's talking; Harry wants to shut him up. "Why'd you bring me here? It's disgusting, Potter."

And yeah, okay, the broom shed isn't quite nice - it has just as many spiders and much more dust than Harry's old cupboard under the stairs - but it's not like they could talk anywhere else.

"I didn't want other people listening," he says.

Malfoy looks at him incredulously. "Listening to what?"

Which makes Harry realize that he didn't really have a plan after this, and yeah, it might've been a bad idea.

What does he want to do? Talk to Malfoy? Apologize? For what? Insult the bastard? Argue? It wouldn't be too hard, considering Malfoy's a pointy, contrarious git, but Harry suddenly doesn't know why he dragged Malfoy in here, either.

He can't let Malfoy know that.

"You never thanked me," he says.

Malfoy's look turns more incredulous, first, and then his eyes narrow furiously, jaw tightening.

"Thanked you for what, Potter?" he asks, crossing his arms. "Making sure every single person in this awful school thinks we're secretly dating? Making sure I can't get down a bloody hallway without some idiotic Gryffindor asking me something beyond inappropriate about you? Making my parents think there's something going on between us so they're threatening to disown me?"

"What?" Harry asks, immediately thrown off. "Your parents would disown you if we were dating?"

Malfoy looks taken aback, like he didn't expect himself to say that, and he looks away. "Forget it. I'm not thanking you."

"Your parents would disown you for dating me?" Harry asks, still stuck on that fact. "Why?"

Malfoy looks troubled, and he shakes his head, looking at the door like he wants to flee; unfortunately for him, Harry's blocking it.

"Are we done here?" he asks. "I'd really rather not spend time in a shed with you."

"Oh, please, you'd love to spend time in a shed with me." Harry rolls his eyes, because he, too, is easy to goad into an argument, as long as it's Malfoy doing the goading.

"Yeah? What part of this do you think I'm loving?" Malfoy asks drily.

Harry doesn't have an answer except for the realization that he himself isn't having the worst time of his life. He isn't even having the worst time he's had today.

"Arguing," he says dumbly.

Malfoy looks at him incredulously again, and then he shakes his head, almost to himself.

"Go to the infirmary, Potter," he says, sliding past him, twisting himself in an almost impressive way so he doesn't touch Harry at all. "Tell Pomfrey to check for head injuries."

"Would you care if I did have a head injury?" Harry asks, already knowing he doesn't have one but not willing to quite reject the idea, because he's enjoying time with Malfoy. He's enjoying arguing with Malfoy.

Malfoy snorts and rolls his eyes. "Sure, Potter. If you end up in the infirmary with a head injury, I'll visit and even bring you flowers, I pinky swear."

He leaves the shed, and leaves Harry blinking after him.

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definitelynotsuzumi · 3 years

Text

Zapped to Another World

Genshin Impact x Fem!Reader

I wrote this in my spare time when I was working back in November and thought that I should share this ^-^

Depending on the comments/notes and if I have spare time, I may be updating this.

[Masterlist]

The rain poured down your umbrella. The clouds coloured the sky a dark grey as you ran for the bus. You sighed as you reached the traffic light. Yup, you were definitely not going to be able to catch it now.

School had ended for the year, which meant more free time for you and the new game you had recently gotten into. Genshin Impact.

You could not help but smile at the thought of it. With school out of the picture, you could finally focus on the game completely. There was so many things to do. Farming for artifacts, completing your daily commissions…

You sloshed your way over as the lights turned green. While you love that school is out, you honestly hated the wet weather that came with the winter break and the feeling of wet socks on your feet. After safely crossing the road, you winced as a white truck rushed by, soaking your clothes through as the giant puddle you have been trying to avoid poured onto your skirt and legs.

You let out a sigh as you quickly took shelter under a tree nearby to try and wring out the remaining water when it happened.

“Just my luck…”You muttered as you clumsily balanced your umbrella, “Can it get any worse?”

Just as those words left your lips, it happened. A white flash lit the sky for a brief second. But it was too late. Thousands of volts came cascading upon your body and everything turned white.

“This is your fault.” You heard a voice. It sounded like a young, sulky boy.

“How is this my fault? You’re the one who lashed out when I put down that +4 card down.”

“THAT AIN’T FAIR STILL! I WAS SO CLOSE TO WINNING AND YOU BLEW IT!”

“Uh…What’s going on?” You blinked as your vision settled. You sat in what looked like a library of sorts, with several shelves lining the walls and a long white and gold marble table in the centre of it all. A girl with long, platinum hair glared down at her male counterpart, who huffed in annoyance.

“How about you explain it to her, Artem.”

“Sorry, but I don’t speak to cheaters.”

“Oh for gods sake- fine. We apologize for uhm…Killing you. Truly, a thousand apologies. If only someone can control their temper for once in their life-“ The girl shot a dirty look at Artem.

“LIKE YOU ARE ONE TO TALK! SOLARIA, YOU SINGED MY EYEBROWS OVER KILLING YOU IN AMONG US!”

“Well excuse you! My anger was perfectly justified! You voted me out even when I told you the truth and that I was innocent!”

“DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT WAS TO EMBROIDER AND GROOM THEM BACK TO NORMAL AGAIN?”

“Could you guys please stop fighting for 10 seconds?” You yelled over the noise. The girl and boy finally stopped, leaving you to rub at your ringing ears.

You sighed. Kids were always a handful back in your home. You had to take care of your cousins whenever your aunt was over, and it often resulted with your ears ringing and your head pounding.

“What’s done is done. I’m…well, dead and I seriously have no idea where I am.” You said, trying to stay composed.

“Well…In your human terms, this is kind of like the After Life.” The boy, Artem explained, sighing as he put down his Uno cards.

“Or well, it shouldn’t since…You were supposed to live for like, another 50 to 60 years. But someone messed it up.” The girl, Solaria, summoned a book from a shelf. You blinked as a weathered leather book with gilded, golden pages floated down onto the table.

“Shut up. I said that I was sorry, didn’t I?” Artem groaned.

“Sir Artem, are you losing your braincells? I was the one who apologized. You still owe the human an apology.” Solaria bit back icily.

With a wave of her hand, the pages of the book flipped and she studied it carefully for a minute before looking back up.

“Well, as a soul now, you have an option. You can go into Elysium or be reincarnated.” Solaria sighed as Artem huffed again.

“Huh. What do you know? Elysium sounds real good right about now-“You thought out loud as Artem’s eyes turned wide with fear.

“Please don’t go into Elysium!” Artem yelled. The books shook in the shelves as his voice echoed.

“Ow, inside voice please? Hasn’t your mother taught you better?” You winced in pain. It seems that immortals had a throat of steel, judging from the way they could shout infinitely.

“I’m really sorry, but if Dad finds out I brought in another human because I accidentally killed them…He’s going to banish me…To Earth…” Artem looked down onto the table.

He was unable to meet your eyes as you stared at him with bemusement.

“Yeah, as much as I hate to say it, please…Reconsider on our offer to reincarnate. He is on thin ice with Father and if he is banished, I’d have to take on his duties as well. I’m pretty exhausted with the workload as it is.” Solaria sighed.

“As long as it’s not Earth, I’m cool with it.” You looked up at the ceiling, which took your breath away. The entire solar system was on it. With it, was the familiar sphere of white, green and blue.

“Hm, that is easy enough. I could reincarnate you into my world.” Artem brightened up.

Solaria sighed with relief.

“And to make up for it, I could buff you up with a couple of blessings here and there-“

“Within reason.” Solaria cut in, with a sharp look at Artem.

“Psssh, as if it’s hard to make a Gnosis.” Artem had considerably relaxed after hearing your statement.

“Are you serious? Don’t you even know the situation down at Teyvat?!” Your eyes widened. Were they talking about what you were thinking of?

Artem rose to his feet, the ivory wings on his lower back flaring. His eyes gleamed gold as he stared down his sister.

“It’s my world. I do what I like with it. If you don’t like it, get a world of your own.”

“You only got your world because Mother took pity on you. Don’t act all big when you have killed so many humans.” Solaria hummed, rolling her eyes.

“I’ll only grant this human the bare minimum. Anything more, and I’ll let Father know of your deeds thus far, even if it means more work for me.” Solaria glared back. Her eyes gleamed silver as she did so. You felt a shiver run down your spine.

“That’s all that I’ll need then. Work on your blessings and gifts. I’ll work on mine.” Artem turned away from his sister. The siblings set to work, the atmosphere of ice cold professionalism now in the air.

Solaria rose from her place on the table. With a flick of a finger, the Uno cards vanished with a burst of gold sparkles. The leather book floated beside her as she constantly referred to its pages while flying around the room.

“Hmm…Not much of a combatant, I see. Polearms and swords will probably be hard for you. Perhaps…A catalyst?” She pulled out a bright blue book adorned in gold, with feathers sticking out.

Blowing off any dust from the beautiful book, she casually tossed it over her shoulder and onto you. You instinctively brought your arms up to protect your face but as the book hit your arms, it disappeared into a burst of gold.

“Huh?” You blinked as you saw the book reappear beside you, its pages flipping.

Solaria returned with a satchel and a bag of gold coins. Looking satisfied as she noticed the book beside you, she inserted the bag of coins into the satchel before sliding it over your shoulder. Solaria hummed to herself before smiling again.

Reaching behind her neck, Solaria detached a shimmering teardrop necklace before slipping it around yours.

“There’s nothing special about it, apart from it glowing. I thought it would be a nice touch.” Solaria winked at you.

Tilting your chin up, you froze with shock as she pressed her lips against yours.

“WHAT WAS THAT FOR?” You felt heat rush to your cheeks.

“Oh, please. Don’t be flustered. That was merely a blessing of mine. It will help you when you need to speak with the natives of the land.” Solaria coolly said as she wiped her mouth.

You were still reeling in shock. Your throat seemed to tighten as you coughed.

“..Thank you, for agreeing with us on our selfish request. To be forcibly stripped of our powers can be the worst pain and humiliation a god or goddess can bear.” Solaria murmured to you as she hurried to the end of the room, where she knelt and seemed to draw symbols in gold.

You held back your tongue. ‘What about me? I got zapped to death here.’ You thought to yourself.

“It is done. Please step into that summoning circle there.” Artem held a floating, golden cylinder in his hands. Solaria rose from her place on the floor, gesturing for you to come over.

It was a Gnosis! You were quick to obey as you hurried to Solaria’s side.

Stepping into the centre, you turned to face Artem and Solaria, who stood side by side. They flared their wings as you sensed an energy swirl around you.

“I, Artem, God of the Moon, grant you passage and dominion over my world, Teyvat. Do you accept, (Y/N) (L/N)?” Artem’s voice echoed in your ears.

“I accept.” As the words left your lips, the Gnosis within his hands flew into your chest. You gasped as it did so, a heat spreading rapidly across your chest.

“Be safe on your travels, (Y/N) (L/N).” Solaria flashed a warm smile as you coughed.

“Resigno!”

The gold summoning circle glowed bright blue and you found yourself falling through the blue skies.

You screeched ungracefully as you fell from the sky headfirst. The green grass was coming up way too fast.

‘Am I going to die again?’ You thought as you held out your arms to break your fall, only for a huge gust of wind to cushion your fall.

“Huh?” You blinked in surprise as a person clad in green floated beside you.

It was a young boy with 2 braids, which gleamed blue in the light. His eyes were a beautiful mix of green and blue.

‘Venti?’ You gaped as he grabbed your hands and guided you back onto the ground.

“Never thought I’d have an audience during my practice session. Are you okay?” Venti grinned at you.

“Never...Never better. Thank you...”You gave a thumbs up as you got air back into your lungs again.

His deft fingers plucked at his harp as he sat down on the soft grass.

“It’s no problem. But what brings you here anyways? Not many people know of this spot.” Venti tilted his head. It seemed as though you uncovered his secret place.

“I- uh well...Accidents happen. I’m not a mad fan or a stalker, I swear. Well, maybe I am a fan but still.” You rambled but you forced yourself to stop talking and to breath. Venti is real and he is in front of me. Venti is real and he is in front of me.

Your heart was beating fast.

‘I should say something smart, introduce myself or something.’ You thought to yourself as you composed yourself.

You wanted to at least tell him your name but the words are out faster than you can stop them.

“Wanna grab a drink?”

#genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #readerinsert #fanfiction #childe x reader #genshin x reader

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bizarropurugly · 3 years

Text

Remaking the post since there’ve been some updates since I first posted

I am in need of financial assistance. Any amount or reblog will help. I have an $8,000 medical debt and lost my job in August.

On top of that, up until yesterday (oct 19th) I had foster kittens, which are a huge financial responsibility to take on.

edit: I got them back. I was worried sick about them. She charged me 120 dollars to have them back. She threw away some of their stuff too...

I didn’t really have the money but I had to get them out of there. I’m switching up my strategy on getting them adopted but until then I am back to paying for them. They both had some health problems coming back too...

My p*ypal is damegreywulf at gmail

Or, if you’d like to get something out of it in exchange, I do have a Redbubble.

Getting something important from my general wishlist and my cat supplies wishlist would also be appreciated.

Additionally, a good friend of mine who has amazing art is doing commissions and selling designs/adopts on my behalf.

If nothing else, check her out and give her a follow because she’s a cool kid whose art is just awesome.

Read more with details under the commission price sheet

The debt is from two stays at a psych ward around 10 years ago. I’m not sure it was an active debt but I fell for the pressure and made a payment, a payment I couldn’t really afford as I had just the day before lost my job. So I may have made a massive mistake that will fuck me over for the rest of my life, because at no point IN my life have I had 8,000 dollars, and the balance keeps accruing thanks to fucking interest. And they charged me TAXES when I sent the payment!

My unemployment is less than 200 a week and idfk where people are getting that it’s so high it competes with / is better than employment because no the fuck it’s not. And all these people saying “get a job, EVERYONE is hiring!” don’t get the difference between SAYING you’re hiring, and actually hiring a person. Because so far, I’ve been rejected every time.

Of course, that doesn’t account for how long I was struggling because they took OVER A MONTH to sort my unemployment out, because Illinois is a fucking mess right now, between scam artists and COVID restrictions for government employees only. You have to call to get in line, and they call you back anywhere from a few days later to nearly 2 weeks. There was a woman I saw who STILL hadn’t gotten an answer after 4 months!

Through the struggle, I was approved, then denied, then approved, then denied, with the final issue being that I had a indefinite ban on receiving unemployment from when I applied back in 2016. For one, why does such a thing fucking exist? And two, according to their own rules it should have AUTOMATICALLY fallen off once I had a steady job. So yeah, Illinois is fucking people over big time and doing jack shit all about it except going like “hey guys, another job fair, for Chicago area mostly!”

The kittens were damned expensive, would probably have been less if Gimli wasn’t so sick when I caught him and Pippin and Merry weren’t so young. Gimli and Pippin have been placed in a shelter, Merry’s already been adopted out, they’re all good and healthy boys. But they were as expensive as you might think a human baby. Between the checkups, vaccinations, cleaning supplies, food, etc...

Well to give you an idea, each vet checkup is 40 bucks, and typically tilted towards 200 if anything more was needed. Flea meds, 30-40 per month. Food 30-40 each time. Cleaning supplies 20-30 depending on what I needed. That’s not including the baby food, toys, blankets, warmers, and etc.

I’ve been struggling to afford gas, thanks to the fact I still have doc appointments pretty much every week, not including the gas for interviews when I actually score them. My car’s headlights also stopped working entirely so now I can’t stay out long lest I have to drive home in complete darkness and risk being ticketed. My parents are still disinterested in doing anything to fix my car because they think it’s not worth it, and when I do convince them I don’t get anywhere because nobody tells me who’s who to call about it, and I certainly can’t pay for it anyway.

Just, in general, I’m struggling and not managing well.

So... anything is appreciated.

#signal boost

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in-tua-deep · 3 years

Note

Oooooo the red bock au sounds so interesting! Does Five caught himself thinking of his brothers just as numbers and weapons like Reginald talks in his book? Does he read Vanya book to remind himself that they are still human even though he reads it through lens of someone hurt by them all? And I feel like the handler would know either way about the books but o it's so much fun to see five being paranoid

I think having both books and both perspectives reminds Five that... he’s getting some very biased accounts of his own siblings. I think that when he’s still young, he writes down as many memories as he can remember because... he starts to forget, at some point.

Vanya’s book talks about how volatile Diego and Luther’s relationship is, and so Five writes down the time Luther and Diego teamed up to toss Five off a balcony when Five kept switching the pens in their hands with pipe cleaners during a lesson (and he will maintain until his dying day that he was just practicing his control, c’mon guys!)

when Reginald’s notes call Allison an “insufferable, narcissistic creature,” Five remembers Allison bribing him to cause trouble and distract Reginald so that she could use the microwave unobserved to heat up some water bottles as makeshift heat packs for Luther’s sore muscles

when Vanya calls Ben “easily manipulated,” Five recalls Ben arguing theories with him at 2am after one of Ben’s training sessions where Ben almost flipped his bed when Five jokingly suggested that he could use the horror’s tentacles to bounce up and down like a pogo stick before Ben tackled him and tried to beat Five to death with an encyclopedia of sea creatures (affectionately)

I think having Reginald’s journal actually helps in a lot of ways, because Five automatically autocorrects literally all of Reginald’s thoughts to be like, mostly inaccurate and much harsher than they need to be. So when he reads Vanya’s journal he also autocorrects and is able to recognize that it is a very biased and somewhat harsh view of his siblings

(he doesn’t distrust them as much as he does in canon, with only Vanya’s harsh words to cling to with no reminder that they were all raised by a man capable of unfathomable cruelty, no reminder that authors can be oh so biased)

outside of his equations, there’s notes to himself written in the margins of Vanya’s book. Sometimes they’re just small, pointing out that Klaus had fought to include Vanya in trap week (Klaus then proceeded to team up with her and managed to catch Five in a snare - he actually still has a scar around his ankle from his upsidedown thrashing before he managed to steal one of Diego’s knives to cut himself down) or pointing out that Luther’s chilly attitude when they were ten was probably the result of Vanya outperforming him in every standardized test they took because of Luther’s ridiculous inferiority-superiority complex

at the very least he has comparison, because Reginald’s book calls Klaus an absolute failure while Vanya’s book called him “sweet, as a child at least”

As for the Handler... she’s aware that he has Vanya’s book and a red notebook, but I don’t think she actually knows what’s in the red notebook! Reginald was notoriously secretive, after all

So the Handler assumes that the red notebook is where Five keeps his time travel equations because aw, he hasn’t given up! how cute!

She makes an assumption that, logically, makes sense. Of course Five is still trying to figure out time travel, no matter how much he denies it! Of course he’s writing the equations down! What a silly boy, thinking that he could hide this from her, of course she knows about his little plans to save his siblings ;3c

And because she’s so powerful and knowledgeable and one step ahead all the time, she makes an assumption and assumes that it is fact. Because she’s so smart, of course she isn’t wrong! She’s had Five clocked from day one!

(The Handler thinks she has Five all figured out, a creature so based in sentiment. Why would he carry a book around that details the torture his siblings went through? He hates his father, why would he ever carry around his father’s notebook! The Handler has a fatal flaw, and it is that she doesn’t understand loyalty and sneers at sentiment and those are two of Five’s most powerful driving factors. Five lives for his siblings and would die for his siblings, almost his entire life has been dedicated to saving them. Not the world, just his family.)

(She understands that Five considers his family to be exceptionally valuable, but doesn’t comprehend that Five is 100% willing to die for them should it come down to it. Why on earth would anyone value something like siblings over their own life? Absurd. I genuinely believe that the Handler thinks she could get Five to betray his siblings with the right leverage, and so she fundamentally does not understand Five as a person)

To be fair to the Handler, the whole academy’s morals and just. completely and utterly fucked. Luther condemns the murder of innocent civilians even if it would save the planet but doesn’t blink an eye at killing the ‘bad guy’ Commission agents. Diego stabs criminals as a pastime while still holding himself at a moral high ground for saving people, despite the fact that too many criminals are forced into crime by unfair circumstances. Allison used her powers to bolster her career without even blinking but now refuses to use her powers at all because of the manipulation of one (1) child, not even against ‘bad guys.’

I mean. Vanya wrote an entire salt book without consulting her siblings that had lasting impacts on at least one of her sibling’s career in the public eye and potentially impacting her siblings relationships with everyone who had every read the spark notes on her book, without the opportunity for reprisal. Publishing your entire family’s dirty laundry as personal emotional catharsis is... kind of a dick mood, lets be real. Especially when you were all abused children raised in an environment of excessive violence and rigid structure.

Like yeah, of course Allison is good at manipulation and lying - she grew up with an abusive and over-controlling father. She probably lied as easily as breathing about where she’d been, who she was with, what she was doing, etc. The only privacy they got in that household was what they seized with their own hands and carved out for themselves! Is it fair to say that Allison’s superpower is dishonestly?

Is it fair to say that Klaus got crueler as he grew? He was tortured and turned to drugs as an unhealthy coping mechanism, and then he sat down at a table and looked at all the other little kiddies who did not get locked into a crypt overnight. In fact, there was one child who never got any extra training at all! Can you imagine the jealousy? The bitterness? Klaus might have been exceptionally cruel to Vanya as a teenager, she had everything he wanted and dared to complain about it. Can you imagine listening to someone wistfully wish they could join in on missions when you know that the cost for doing so has been carved out of your soul?

My point is, none of these little bitches have anything that resembles a sane moral compass. They’re unpredictable as fuck! It’s like herding cats! You never know what they’re going to do next! Oh? Are they going to investigate in any logical pattern? No, because Diego just remembered Patch exists and helping her print flyers for the annual police ball is more important than saving the world or whatever lol

Luther is over there investigating the moon! The moon! Meanwhile Allison is breaking and entering her sister’s student’s house because she got shady vibes off of him one time and she has never heard of a proportionate action in her life.

Meanwhile Vanya is going through the phone book trying to call up psychiatrists who have any familiarity with whatever fucked up meds Dad put her on because like, she would like to Not Be On Them (fuck you dad) but also understands that danger of quitting cold turkey something you have been taking for years and would like a professional opinion on how to safely decrease and eventually eliminate her usage, thanks (Klaus is hanging over her shoulder pointing out the ones who will sell you non-prescription drugs for a price and Vanya mentally crosses those ones off of her list to call)

Five is probably joining on the breaking and entering because Allison promised she would sweet talk to eye dude if he did her this solid

(Five complains at length about how investigating the apocalypse should not be a solid because she would 100% die as well if the apocalypse came to pass)

#the red book au #plus like. some thoughts and opinions lmao #look Vanya's book was healing and cathartic for her #does that mean it should have been published?#FUCK NO #it's biased as all fuck for starters and could genuinely impact her siblings jobs and relationships #anyway the hargreeves are all cats #they do their own thing regardless of what they should be doing #their orders of priorities are fucked tbh #what do you mean vanya's job isn't equally as important as saving the world?#she has to pay rent somehow five !!#klaus is down to go threaten a seedy dude but can they investigate dad's will after pretty please?#maybe there's a clue! or numbers about inheritance!#if dad disowned them then diego is forging the will tbh #not because he wants the bastard's money but it's the PRINCIPLE of the thing #Anonymous #long post #far tua long

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unofficialadamtaurus · 2 years

Note

The fic-dish anon again, sorry for the follow up comment, your second paragraph just unlocked a suppressed memory

Back when I used to write, I had this one guest reader who’d review my entire chapter and then “suggest” (or push) for ways to “improve the story”…which were basically just things they wanted me to change about the plot, include, exclude etc. They’d be like “yeah i’m not sure about that part, I think it’d be more interesting if..” and I was like ?? Ok what do you want me to do about it. move along 🤨

It’s so weird when people “offer you advice” on how to “improve” your writing..when you never asked for said advice to begin with and said suggestions aren’t even objective advice (like pointing out typos or something), nope, i’d be them trying to push you to change your fic in a direction they want you to and it’s so uncomfortable and weird. It’s also kind of why I gave up on writing along with the fact it’s difficult for me to focus nowadays. And unfortunately this kind of behaviour isn’t even uncommon as it has happened to literally all of my online friends who are fic writers, to some extent.

I don’t understand how people struggle to grasp the fact that writing fics is a hobby, is personal and some people use it to vent or cope or maybe even “connect” to their favourite characters, in a way, and that at the end of the day we do it for ourselves & are doing it for free. We just choose to share it but that’s not a permission to try to make me tailor you a fic for free & give me your unwanted “advice” and suggestions. Seriously, if you want to read something specific that badly just pay an author who does commissions to write it for you..

In the past I thought that was usually done by younger readers who don’t really understand how their behaviour isn’t right (I’m sure the one I had a shitty experience with was a teen) but judging by my friends’ experiences, that’s not always the same.

Ugh, I hate those kinds of comments and I'm sorry you had to deal with that. Kudos to you for being able to brush them off. Particularly when you're not getting a lot of feedback, it can be hard to resist the urge to please the people who are responding. (Side note, if you're reading an enjoyable fic that has very few comments, definitely leave a few words! You'll make the writer's day and help them build the confidence in themselves needed to ignore pushy people.)

It's one thing to, if the writer has said they'll accept that kind of critique, bring up potential plot holes or weak scenes. I'm fine with that, for example. It's entirely different to critique a scene based solely on the fact that it didn't appeal to you personally and then suggest that the writer, for free on a story they wrote for themselves, go back and write a more tailored version.

There's a fundamental gap between the text that people read on the screen and the writer with their own motivations behind the words. As you pointed out, I'm sure a fair chunk of fanfic readers are young and genuinely haven't thought about that divide before...but then you have others who are clearly aware enough to grasp it but either don't care or refuse to acknowledge that not everything is made for their consumption.

The best thing to do as a writer is clearly establish what kinds of comments/critique you're looking for, if any, and politely yet firmly enforce those boundaries. If some fool refuses to listen, hit them with the block no jutsu.

#anon #unofficial adam answers #long post #fanfiction etiquette #god every time i get requests like that i'm just like...the audacity #you come into MY house #and ask me to change it to suit YOU?#hilarious.#there is one exception to this tho which is entirely a case-by-case basis #if you have an idea that i really vibe with i might slightly adapt my plans to include that idea in a different way #i.e. the person who commented on Continuum with the idea of Adam's past being revealed via Jinn back on like chapter 1 or 2 #i immediately adapted the story to have that salem mind invasion sequence as a direct result of that comment #HOWEVER. again. case-by-case. and this person phrased their comment in a way that didn't feel pushy #only excited for the possibility #oh and if anyone is reading these tags and wondering if their kind of comment would annoy me:#you can literally just ask

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lacrimosathedark · 3 years

Text

Hamilton Inaccuracies/Corrections (because why not?)

Okay so, I saw a post on reddit that was like, “what’s some inaccuracies in Hamilton off the top of your head?” and I got a whole bunch...and then I had to double check to make sure if I was right...and I’m pretty long-winded...and now I have this 5,000ish word monstrosity. And apparently you can only post 1000 characters at a time on reddit. Laaaaame. So here’s some Hamilton facts I’ve gathered in my brain. Since it was kinda off the top of my head despite being so long, it’s kinda vague in some places, so if anyone wants to expand on anything (or correct me if I oopsed somewhere) please do! Though nicely please.

Also I am also awful at citing things, but I know I learned some of this from @john-laurens and @ciceroprofacto so thank you.

LET’S BEGIN!

Act 1

Rachel Faucette was not a prostitute, but she was a “whore” in the sense that she did what she fucking wanted with her body. During her first marriage she may or may not have been sleeping around, but she refused to stay with John Lavien, her husband, anymore. So he had her arrested. And he could do that. Because patriarchy and theocracy. And she was essentially put in solitary confinement. You can see why she tried to leave, right? She tried to get their marriage annulled or get a divorce. I forget what the issue was but she couldn’t and eventually she just moved to another island where she met James Hamilton.

The intro song makes it seem like Alexander was an only child. He actually had an older brother, James Jr., but he kinda fucked off after their mother died, working and taking care of himself. They also had an older half-brother Peter Lavien, but I don’t think they really knew him other than as the son of their mother’s abusive ex who took everything from them when she died. John Lavien was able to do that because when Rachel was with James Hamilton, she had not been able to get legally divorced from him so she wasn’t really married to James Hamilton, so James Jr. and Alexander were illegitimate ie bastards. He was an asshole. I don't think Peter had anything against the Hamiltons, but I think he grew up to be a Loyalist so. He actually made some trouble in South Carolina for Henry Laurens, John's dad! But I think I read somewhere he also left money for Alex and James Jr. In his will, which is sweet.

This is more visual since it’s not specified in the song, but in the show, Hamilton’s cousin mimes hanging himself. Peter Lytton’s cause of death if I recall was inconclusive, but he was in his bed and there was a lot of blood. So, yeah, he didn’t hang himself.

Alexander did not punch the bursar. However he did return to Princeton later during the war and blew a canon through the school and apparently decapitated a painting of King George lololol. He was under orders, but yknow. Probably felt pretty good after he was rejected for accelerated courses. He wasn’t the only bastard rejected, though! Ben Franklin’s bastard son was too. The guy in charge of admissions, Witherspoon, hated bastards as a concept and Princeton was a very religious school at the time I believe.

It may have been the plan by Aaron and Esther Burr for Aaron Jr to graduate Princeton, but like, he couldn’t really be sure of that? He was like 2 years old when they died, and his older sister Sally was 4 I believe, maybe 5.

Hercules Mulligan met Alex in 1772. His older brother Hugh knew Alex’s old employer in St. Croix and helped him get to mainland America. Alex and Hercules lived together for a long while, and Hercules is actually who got him interested in the revolution.

John Laurens was in England in 1776. He wouldn’t meet Hamilton and Lafayette until he accepted his post as Washington’s aide-de-camp upon his return in August of 1777.

Lafayette couldn’t have met Hamilton before August 1777 because that’s when he met Washington, and he was appointed as a volunteer to the Continental Army only a week prior, and before that he had been in France. But Lafayette later declared their relationship to be like that of brothers, Alexander his closest connection in the states besides Washington.

Lafayette admired and absolutely adored Laurens and they were besties, but neither of them knew Mulligan. They may have met in passing, or heard about him from Hamilton, but nothing more.

“Lafayette” was actually a nickname based on his title of “Marquis de la Fayette”. In his autobiography, he wrote: “It’s not my fault I was baptized like a Spaniard, with the name of every conceivable saint who might offer me more protection in battle.” I’m glad he thought it was funny at least. His name is Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de la Fayette.

Hercules Mulligan is not known to fuck horses.

The Revolution had already sorta started. Actually, Hercules and Alexander had been part of local militias before 1776.

This is more of a miscommunication since the actors are close in age, though the lyrics try to get it across. There’s a reason Mulligan says he’s got the others “in loco parentis”. In 1776 Hamilton and Lafayette would have been 19, Laurens would have been 22, and Mulligan would have been 36.

I think we all know “Laurens, I like you a lot” does not cover the scope of their relationship but that’s rather self explanatory so unless someone asks I’ll leave it at that. And for other clarifications. But at the very least I’ll share this: Anyone who saw them knew they were like attached at the hip (without knowing how attached *winkwonk*) and you could almost always contact one through the other. Laurens was notoriously bad at answering letters, to Hamilton too (and Alex did bitch about it because he is insecure and needs love), but it became quickly known he got back to Hamilton fastest so people would be like “Tell Laurens I said hi!” or “Hey, I need to get these to Laurens, you send them to him.” Which is hilarious. I just imagine Alexander going, “Why me?”

While all of them are Revolutionaries, Laurens is the only one you could solidly call an abolitionist, and Mulligan’s even shaky on the manumission part. He was supposedly part of the Manumission Society Hamilton helped start, but Mulligan also personally owned slaves and was never known to have freed them (One helped him with spy shit. His name was Cato!). In fairness, Hamilton and Lafayette wholeheartedly agreed with Laurens, and Hamilton was the biggest supporter of his battalion plan, and both of them did try to continue working towards equality after the war, but it was never the top priority for either of them and their lives kinda went to hell, so it fell to the wayside. Lafayette actually did some nifty stuff worth looking at, and Hamilton might have tried to keep one of John Lauren’s freed men from Henry Laurens! But as slavery stuck around for a while, it clearly wasn’t anything significant.

Angelica would meet and befriend Thomas Jefferson in Europe, but she would never manage to convince him to put women in a sequel because he’s a huge misogynist and told her in multiple letters that politics isn’t for women and I think he deserves a shoe up his southern backside. Side note, it always bothered me that Lin played up the misogyny in the musical. I mean, yeah, all of them would be misogynists compared to us, but for their time, Hamilton wasn’t so bad. If there was anyone to play up misogyny with, it was Jefferson, because he would tell Angelica for years and years that politics could never make women happy, and that the women in France were foolish for trying etc.. Hamilton would actually discuss politics with Angelica frequently and openly. And there’s a proto-feminist in the cast that was never recognized—Aaron Burr! He respected Theodosia Sr. as an equal and she was his most valuable political ally, and he made sure Theodosia Jr. got the same education any boy of her time would have. He actually respected women to a decent degree. Not to say he wasn't as much of a ho as Hamilton cuz yeah that's accurate (but they were both disaster bisexuals more on Burr's sexuality later)

Farmer Refuted was an essay Hamilton wrote arguing against Samuel Seabury's posts. They weren't shouting in the public square(but Lin got the sass right. I love his face when Hamilton and Seabury are fighting over the podium). Seabury was also really really old, not young and cute like Thayne, hence the line about "mange". Blech.

General Montgomery didn’t take a bullet in the neck, it was a grapeshot from a canon in his head (and his thighs), but close enough I guess. Side note: Burr actually served a short interim on Washington’s staff, but only for like 10 days because they hated each other lolol.

Alexander didn’t bring Laurens, Mulligan, or Lafayette to Washington. Lafayette joined up with the Continental Army in 1777 and quickly convinced them he wasn’t like the other French nobles; he was a glory-seeking kid with a boner for America (for some reason???). Laurens was requested by Washington to join his military family and he arrived also in August 1777 just after Lafayette. Like previously stated, Mulligan was doing shit even before Hamilton did.

Alexander would not have been in charge of spy shit (though may have been somewhat involved). Washington had people like Mulligan for that, who actually saved Washington a few times. But also, the "King’s men who might let some things slide" was the tactic Mulligan used. He was actually very charming, and his wife was very high in British society and he was a skilled tailor, so they were thought of well among the redcoats, and he got a lot of information through chatting with his customers. He also could usually smooth-talk his way out of trouble. Actually, Mulligan blended in so well, when the war was over, people in the city wanted him out cuz they thought he was a Loyalist. So George fucking Washington paid him a visit and commissioned I think a coat from him, and that cleared that up. He got a LOT of business after that.

Alexander would not be Washington’s right hand man, or at least, not his only one if Lin was using that to mean aide-de-camp. In that case, Laurens would also be Washington’s right hand man, along with many men not named in the musical.

John Laurens may have been reliable with the ladies (comes with the territory of being hot, rich, and a perfect gentleman), but he most certainly didn’t want to be. His father noted, rather proudly at the time, that as a young teenager he expressed no interest in girls. John was also married by 1780, and at least Alexander knew. (he told John he'd found out in the well-known April 1779 letter. You know... “Cold in my professions...find me a wife...the length of my nose...” That one.) Because John apparently didn't tell people he was married. Laurens. Sweetheart. Get. Your. Shit. Together.

John also would not be at this ball. February 1779 to March 1780 he is fighting down south, and this ball was early 1780.

The tomcat thing may be half true. Martha Washington did supposedly name a cat Hamilton, but it was an affectionate thing. The slang tomcat meaning ho wasn’t a thing at that time, so it couldn’t be named to tease Alex for his promiscuity. I believe this was one of the many things John Adams made up to slander Hamilton.

Hamilton and Eliza had met before 1780. They had met once two years prior at a dinner her father had hosted. Also, Hamilton had been courting her friend Kitty Livingston, and his friend and fellow aide Tench Tilghman had been attempting to court Eliza, and they’d actually done at least one sort-of double date (which is adorable). So this shouldn’t have been the first time they’d seen each other. Could still be when they fell in love, though, since they started courting after this. Which is cute to think about.

Speaking of Tench and Eliza! I don't remember when this took place but Tilghman journaled it, he went out on something of a hike with a few ladies and they got to a cliff. Of course, he had to help the girls climb up. Except Eliza who started climbing by herself like a natural to the bewilderment and likely horror of the other ladies. Elizabeth Schuyler was a bamf okay?

Of course everyone knows by now, Angelica was married before Eliza. During the Winter’s Ball, she’d already eloped with Jack Carter aka John Barker Church and run away to Boston.

Their courtship was not that fast. Not like, weeks. More like months. Fun fact, Eliza is the only of the five (yes FIVE) Schuyler sisters who didn’t elope and actually got her parents permission! But here’s a heartbreaking fun fact: while Alex was courting Eliza, Laurens was taken prisoner and then on probation. He wasn’t allowed to leave the state of Pennsylvania. He was mentally in a very dark place. Alex kind of procrastinated telling Laurens about Eliza, didn’t say he was courting anyone until they were already engaged.

I can't leave this alone if I'm sad you have to be too. Alex was hella depressed during this time too. Of course he was a soldier so he couldn't see Eliza as much as he'd have liked. On top of that, he kept pushing for an exchange for John and kept getting rejected because they couldn't show preference for him. And then Laurens was sending him very few letters, of course, and the ones he did send were very depressed, even suicidal sounding. He had to work while dealing with that. He had to keep begging Eliza to write to him to be reassured that she still liked him.

No one could show up for Hamilton for the wedding. Some sources say fellow aide James McHenry showed up, but he’s the only one. Alexander even invited his deadbeat dad, offered to pay all his travel expenses and everything, guess how that turned out. So Eliza’s side of the hall was packed and his was empty. God, can you imagine how sad that is?

Another heartbreaking fun fact! John Laurens was out of probation and could have made it to the wedding, was invited (Hamilton, I kid you not, jokingly invited him to a threesome with his new wife in a letter: “I wish you were at liberty to transgress the bounds of Pensylvania. I would invite you after the fall to Albany to be witness to the final consummation.” (emphasis is original to Hamilton. As is the misspelling of Pennsylvania. Yes, seriously.)) and John did not go. Instead he went back to work trying to talk his way out of getting sent as an envoy to France and suggesting Alexander to take his place. You know. His boyfriend who just got married. Sure, he was right that Hamilton was better equipped for the job, but yknow. Another fun fact, one of the guys who voted for John to be the one to go to France was John’s ex-boyfriend Francis Kinloch. Who was a turncoat, and had been a royalist when he and Laurens split. How’s that for some twisty bullshit.

Sorry, this one isn’t about the musical, it’s a tangent, I just got excited about that quote. Both that style of innuendo and the misspelling of Pennsylvania are consistent in Hamilton’s writing. Listening to john-lauren’s podcast about the April 1779 letter can really help you understand how Hammy uses innuendo but also I just love listening to it it’s insightful and hilarious and I love John Laurens but y u do this and my heart hurts for Hamilton but he is also a ho but aNYWAY. As for Pensylvania...well, he kinda made that mistake on an important document. ...It’s The Constitution. He misspelled Pennsylvania on The Constitution. No big deal. Not like something that could haunt his legacy forever. Oh my god I’m so sorry.

Philip Schuyler did have sons. Five in fact. Two of them died pretty young though I think, considering there are three kids in a row named John Bradstreet Schuyler. The other two were named Philip Jeremiah and Rensselaer.

Laurens, Lafayette, and Mulligan were all married before Hamilton. Hercules Mulligan married Elizabeth Sanders in 1773. Lafayette married his beloved Adrienne in 1774. John Laurens was regretfully obliged to marry Martha Manning in 1776.

Sigh. Again with the misogyny. Anyway, I wanted to comment on the marriage as a loss of freedom. From what I can tell, Elizabeth helped Hercules with his spy work at home. John was literally fighting a war across the ocean from his wife, and probably having an illegal affair with Alexander (though to be fair to him, he was kind of running away from Martha because he didn't marry her for love, gosh, there are no winners here). Lafayette absolutely adored his wife but still was also fighting a war an ocean away, and had multiple affairs, at least one with his wife’s blessing. So yeah, losing your freedom with marriage? Bullshit.

Despite where it is in the musical and Eliza singing the beginning, Stay Alive is roughly about Valley Forge, which would be December of 1777 through June of 78. So before the ball and wedding. (Fun fact! A lot of people theorize Valley Forge as when Hamilton and Laurens’ relationship may have escalated into romantic and/or sexual territory. They may have had more privacy, as small temporary buildings were being made to better withstand the cold, and Hamilton was sick a lot during that time and did need tending a lot. West Indian boi did not like Northern winter.) But yeah, Congress being stupid and the army resorting to eating their horses sometimes and not being able to buy food and equipment? All true. It was a real bad winter.

Mulligan wouldn’t have to go back to New York, he never would have left. He remained there as a tailor and a spy throughout the war. He wouldn’t have been traveling with Washington.

Hamilton and Laurens didn't write essays so much as start working out John's battalion plan and writing letters trying to push for it.

This duel happened in 1778, so like. This timeline is so fucky.

Stay Alive makes it seem like Hamilton was the one who wanted to duel Lee, but it was 100% Laurens from the start. The off-Broadway version demonstrates it a bit better. Hamilton was Lauren's second to save his ass. Hamilton had a rough relationship with Washington, but Laurens admired him greatly and would have willingly defended his commander’s honor. John was a Good Boy who always bowed his head to his asshole father, even at first for his battalion plan, but John wouldn’t let even his father talk shit about Washington. Fun fact about this duel, Alex and John were late to the duel because they “got lost in the woods”. Oooookay. Suuuuuuure. And Baron von Steuben was straight. (Fact: Steuben was very gay and pretty much pushed out of Europe for it. And he actually also had challenged Lee! They talked things out before this.)

Aaron Burr was not Charles Lee’s second. His second was a Major Evan Edwards. Lin wanted a parallel with the final duel. To be fair, that was a really cool way to do it and I like it better that way.

Alexander Hamilton could NOT agree that duels are dumb and immature. He was in 10 duel challenges as a participant in his lifetime, 9 of which he was the challenger. One time he challenged two people at once. One time he challenged an entire politcal party apparently. No, I am not kidding. He had a bad day. And I think you know the one time he wasn’t the challenger.

Lee did not yield on the first shot, nor was Laurens satisfied. Lee was pretty much like, “It’s just a flesh wound!” and wanted to go another round and Laurens agreed, but Hamilton and Edwards managed to talk them down. Yes he was shot in the side. But that wasn’t all because Laurens absolutely roasted Lee at his court martial.

Lee: Were you ever in an action before?

Laurens: I have been in several actions; I did not call that an action, as there was no action previous to the retreat.

I love this man. So much. The sass of this man.

We don’t know if Washington was angry about the duel with Lee. We do know that Laurens, and probably Hamilton, had Christmas dinner with him two days later. When Hamilton left, it was because Washington had snapped over a misunderstanding (caused by Lafayette actually, and he really tried to make it better because Lafayette is a sweetheart), and then continued to deny Hamilton the command he requested, and he resigned. It was entirely unrelated to the duel and Laurens. However, the daddy issues are real.

I don’t know if Lafayette went to France for more funds and came back with more guns, but Laurens certainly did! Ben Franklin told him to chill, but he actually got super impatient and ended up supposedly disrespecting and maybe kinda threatening the court, demanding what he needed, and walking out. They were were kind of shocked and impressed into giving more than had been requested. Any existing deities bless John Laurens. I love him.

Lafayette actually nominated his own aide to lead the charge and Hamilton appealed for himself and Washington finally gave in to Hamilton.

Laurens was not in South Carolina. When he finally got back from France, he was sent to Yorktown. He actually was commanding the group Alexander led. (Power couple lol) He also helped with negotiations after the battle. Also, supposedly making the British play ‘The World Turned Upside Down’ on their way out was Laurens’ idea because boy is made of sass and spite.

Henry Laurens would not have sent a letter to Hamilton about John’s death. Even if he would have, he couldn’t. At that time, he’d been locked up in the Tower of London as a prisoner. We have no idea when or how Alexander found out, or who might have told him. We know he wrote to Nathanael Greene on October 25 and Lafayette on November 3 (literally 2 months after Laurens' death), and the mentions of Laurens were very short. It’s thought that he really couldn’t talk about Laurens. People have compared it to the stories of how Benjamin Tallmadge apparently couldn’t hear Nathan Hale’s name without crying.

After Yorktown Alexander resigned and John went down south to flush British troops out of the southern states. His group was ambushed at Combahee River and he decided to charge instead of wait for backup and he died. Many people think it was a combination of his usual recklessness, suicidality, and glory-seeking mixed with a desperation with the war coming to an end. It was such a small skirmish. He deserved better. He left his daughter, Frances, whom he had never met, orphaned, as her mother had died months earlier from sickness. She was adopted by John’s oldest younger sister, also coincidentally Martha Laurens (though married was Martha Laurens Ramsay).

The Levi Weeks case was years later than that, in 1800, though it was alongside Burr. Hamilton actually lost his first trial as a defense lawyer and was not with Burr.

The whole conversation where Hamilton proposes Burr help him write the Federalist Papers is fake. Lin made that up entirely.

John Church’s wealth kinda...varies. He was a gambler. At first, he was actually in quite a bit of debt. He did make it big eventually and he and Angelica moved to Europe. He really didn’t seem to be a lot of fun to most people, but Angelica eloped with him. She chose him against her father’s wishes. I don’t get why Lin kept writing lines saying she didn’t love him, at least at first. He also does this in the cut song Congratulations where she says “I languished in a loveless marriage” bish you eloped wat She also lived as a socialite and was adored by anyone who met her apparently, so like???? da fuq Lin. Didja really do Laurens dirty for these lies or at the very least uncertanties? Could you not prop up that romance without making her say she hates her husband?

Act 2

More of a personality miscommunication. Irl Thomas Jefferson was shy, quiet, and hypersensitive, nothing like how Daveed plays him. If you knew a guy like the real Jefferson in real life you might be endeared to him out of pity or because he seems sweet, but in the short time of a musical that would immediately be read as cold and unlikable. So the best way to portray “this guy is a likable asshole” is to make him loud and made of sass which is what Daveed does magnificently. So, not at all accurate to real Jefferson, but gets the concept of him across.

Thomas was not off getting high with the French. Probably. He was making negotiations for the Revolution. And abusing Sally Hemings (his, at the time, 14 year old slave, who was also his sister-in-law, and 30 years his junior, and was brought along to entertain his daughter). And actually probably chatting up with Angelica!

By the time Philip was 9, he had two sisters, Angelica (7) and his foster/adopted sister Frances Antill (6), but he also had two brothers already, Alexander Jr. (5) and James Alexander (3), with maybe another one on the way since William Stephen would be born next year.

The whole comma thing is backwards. It was Angelica who made the initial mistake. Hamilton pointedly and flirtatiously teased her about it before closing it with “Adieu ma chere, soeur” French for “Goodbye my dear, sister”. So it’s more playful and less lovey dovey in context, so the tone is all wrong. It’s not romantic, it’s teasing and snarky.

Say No To This feels like it’s over quick. The affair lasted a year, not just the summer Eliza was away.

Clermont Street wasn’t renamed until many years later.

I don’t know that Alex has always considered Burr a friend. Irl they weren’t as close, and Hamilton was keenly aware of how slimy Burr could be.

Lafayette was NOT fine. He was imprisoned a lot during the French Revolution, the poor man, and many members of his wife’s family were killed. HOWEVER! Hamilton was not just sitting by. Angelica and her husband did make an attempt to rescue Lafayette, and the Hamiltons fostered Lafayette’s son Georges Washington Lafayette (yes that was his actual name). So Hamilton also did not forget Lafayette.

Not all his defendants got acquitted, obviously. Stop being cocky, Ham.

People comment on how Jefferson whines about Hamilton’s fashion sense while literally dressed in violet velvet. The original plan was to have him in browns, but Daveed is just such a friggin star that they just had to give him something brighter and decided to go with a Prince-inspired look. Originally the browns were going to be representative of his supposed representation of farmers. Though note here: Jefferson’s agricultural representation is much the same as modern Republicans’ rural representation. More for show.

Actually, let's get political for a sec. I've done some research in my hyperfixation and in searches for Hamilton shiz I've ended up stumbling into far-right nonsense and I know how to recognize the degrees of nonsense from years of actually paying attention to it now because this is what I do apparently. Which is weird, right? Lin kinda portrays him like a lefty. Well, here's the thing. Any proud historically educated Republican will tell you that their roots are in the Federalist Party. Which is technically true. What they will neglect to mention is the flip between parties that happened when the Republicans decided to use southerners racism to their advantage in elections. Being subtly racist can get the racists and the non-racists on your side! Yeah, it's gross. Federalists are more like Democrats. The corporatists. They clearly care more about companies and Wall Street, but they put actual action into social progress on rare occasion. Democratic-Republicans are like Republicans, conservatives who don't want social change and rail against it and pretend they aren't for corporate interests while being just as bad as the other guys. But Republicans have a tendency to rewrite history to paint themselves as the good guys, or reclaim things that aren't theirs as their own. Just look at the Civil War! Or...literally just...America I guess. Yikes. But yeah, here's your warning. Don't just go looking at and trusting things labelled Federalist. It likely won't be friendly.

John Adams didn’t fire Hamilton, Hamilton left. Eventually. And this is not the only time this kind of verbal confrontation happens, and not the one that destroys the Federalist Party. That actually happens after the Reynolds Pamphlet. But John Adams hates Alexander Hamilton with the burning passion of a thousand suns and really kinda earns this.

I’m not sure if he specifically called Alex a Creole bastard but I wouldn’t be surprised, there were other similar racist and bastard-related insults. You know the tomcat thing mentioned above. He started the rumor of the affair with Angelica. He accused him of being a rake (male version of whore at the time). He also may have behind closed doors accused him of being a sodomite. His (probably gay) son Charles helped with that one, bringing back rumors from a dinner he had with Hamilton (who he was working for) and John Church because Church joked about Alex being fond of a guy. Adams probably thought working for Hamilton was what made his son gay and alcoholic (Charles was an alcoholic and may have died in part because of that; Hamilton was not an alcoholic, but he supposedly could not hold his drink. He was smol).

Jefferson, Madison, and Burr didn’t accuse Hamilton of speculation. It was James Monroe, Abraham Venable, and Frederick Muhlenberg. Lin wanted to keep consistent representation of the Democratic-Republican party. But anyway, the whole thing went to hell because Monroe sent the letters to Jefferson (or I’ve also heard Monroe gave them to Madison who sent them to Jefferson) who, the spiteful gangly fucker, started spreading rumors because fuck Hamilton, amirite? Hamilton challenged Monroe to a duel over that. And who stopped this duel? Aaron Burr. He gets to be the good guy now and then.

It wasn’t just total strangers that got Alex off the island. He was sponsored by his cousin Ann Lytton and his teacher Reverend Hugh Knox. Also, he was kind of expected to get an education and come back and help out the island...guess what he never did. Oops.

This one I may be wrong, but I’m pretty sure. I think Eliza was upstate with her family when the Reynolds Pamphlet was released, away from Alex. I also know she had recently given birth to their son, William Stephen. A lot of people think Alexander had been keeping that in mind. Eliza had had a miscarriage once before, when she was under a lot of stress and alone and with the kids and he had to be away (Whiskey Rebellion), so some people think he made sure she was surrounded by her family and waited until the child was born to drop this on her, and gave her distance from him if she needed it. At least he knew he fucked up, and he really did love her.

Those weren’t Alexander’s guns. They belonged to John Church.

It was quite some time between Philip’s challenge and the actual duel.

Another age miscommunication; Eacker was 27ish and Philip was 19 when the duel happened. There was a whole 8 years between them!

Eacker didn’t shoot early. Actually, both of them stood staring at each other for a really long time doing nothing. But Philip went to make a move and Eacker shot him.

Alex and Eliza had made up from the Reynolds Pamphlet bullshit before Philip died. When he passed, Eliza was already pregnant with the son they would also name Philip in honor of his older brother.

Hamilton wasn’t really the deciding factor in the election of 1800. But he did say that about Burr and it did help swing the vote somewhat. But also, this was before Philip died. Philip died in 1801.

If a vote is that close, you can’t win in a landslide??? That’s not how words work???? Mister Miranda????? You are a writer??????? Sir???????

Burr actually held a term as Jefferson’s Vice President.

The Burr vs Hamilton Duel was in 1804 and was actually about another election and other things Hamilton was saying about him. Burr was running to be governor of New York and lost but heard about Alexander telling people the things he listed Alexander saying in Your Obedient Servant.

Thayne should not have played Alexander’s doctor. Sydney should have played Alexander’s doctor. Do you know why? Philip and Alexander had the same doctor when they died. Alexander took that doctor with him to the duel. His name was David Hosack.

While there’s evidence to suggest Burr experienced immediate regret (he stepped forward as if wanting to see if Hamilton was okay and supposedly asked after him and wished him well before Alexander passed) in the years that followed, until he was on his death bed, he expressed nothing but neutrality or even pride for having shot Hamilton. The ‘the world was wide enough’ comment could plausibly be entirely made up, and even if it were true, it was supposedly said toward the end of Burr’s life. Burr's life was quite a ride after Alex. He tried to make like his own empire out of Texas, and then of course was tried for treason, but he got out of that, but then everyone hated him for that ON TOP OF already hating him for killing Hamilton, so he had some crazy journey around Europe for a while. He kept a journal, writing entries like letters to Theo. The most notable things I think he writes he'd "been amused for an hour with a very handsome young Dane. Don't smile. It is a male!" which implies maybe Theodosia knew her dad was bi and was at least amused by it? And he spent a while living with Jeremy Bentham, who is generally accepted to have been gay (if you want more Burr gayness look into Jonathan Bellamy and Robert Troup. Troup knew Hamilton too!). Unrelated to his sexuality but I find it important, Burr spent, in modern cash, $40 on a coconut, in his own words, "like an ass." He returned to America eventually. I dont remember if it was before or after his foreign adventures, but his beloved grandson (also named Aaron Burr) died, and then not long after, Theodosia was lost at sea on her way to visit her dad. No one knows what happened to her. It's so sad. Anyway he married a wealthy widow named Eliza, spent all her money on charity, and died the day their divorce was finalized. And Eliza Jumel's divorce lawyer was Alexander Hamilton Jr..

Poor Eliza couldn’t go through all of her husband’s papers. Her son, John Church Hamilton, finished the work for her when she no longer could and put together the biography that inspired Chernow’s that inspired Lin’s musical. (He named a son Alexander and a daughter Elizabeth. He even named one of his sons Laurens! Aw.) And we have come full circle.

The End :33

There’s probably more but that’s what I’ve got. Thanks for reading!

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imamotherfuckingstar-lord · 3 years

Text

Feeling Special

Tamaki Amajiki x Reader

Warning: fluff, pg-13

A/N: commission for @marvels-biggest-ho

Summary: You show up to help Mirio terrorize Class -1A during training and your long time crush, Tamaki, is there.

The first year training gym had an air of playful tension as you walked in. Mr. Aizawa thought it would do the younger students some good to have an older student drop in and show them the ropes but you had a feeling your quirk was the real reason the teacher wanted you around. Your quirk was Acquire ; the ability to gain another person's quirk for a limited amount of time, depending on how long you touched them. They would still have their quirk but you were able to use it as well - it worked out most times but you usually avoided touching someone with a more complicated quirk. There was one time you accidentally touched Mirio Togata and ended up falling a floor below your dorm. Luckily, you only came into contact with him for a few seconds. Usually you wore gloves but as you walked into the large training gymnasium, your hands were bare.

“Oh, look who's here!”

The greeting came from Nejire Hado and you smiled, noticing the two other members of the Big Three. The trio stood in front of class 1-A. You eyed the slouched over Tamaki Amajiki; he glanced at you for a split second before turning away nervously. Smiling, you nodded to Mirio.

“Mr. Awzia sent for me,” you explained, turning to the group. “He said something about showing you kids a good time.”

“That’s what I was about to do,” Mirio gleamed, hands folded against his chest. “I challenged them all to a fight.”

You laughed, sneaking a peek at Tamaki. “Amajiki, will you be joining the fight?”

The young man seized up, shaking his head no without looking at you. “Fair enough, we don’t want to rough the kids up too much. We all know you’re the strongest here.”

Mirio grinned at you, giving a little wink as he focused on the first years. You half listened as he went on about kicking their asses, eyes zeroing on Tamaki, who was making his way to the sidelines. He looked so cute in the UA jumpsuit, his ears poking out from his hair; it seemed obvious to everyone but him that you adored the soon to be pro-hero. You had been in the same class as the Big Three since year one, made friends right away with Mirio and his best friend, the quiet Tamaki. The nervous, socially awkward boy - who you had developed feelings for over time.

“Y/N.” Mirio was calling out to you, as he rushed towards Class -1-A, a carefree glance plastered on his face. “You joining or not?”

“Hell yes,” you shouted back, rushing towards your friend. Watching as Mirio went head to head with the boy he called Problem Child, you wanted to throw some of the younger students off guard. Jogging over to the group, who were distracted by Mirio, you touched the shoulder of a girl with horns and pink skin.

“He’s going to be the number one hero one day,” you boasted. She jumped back just as Mirio disappeared and reappeared behind the group. You smiled when the girl used her quirk to throw corrosive liquid, acid, in your direction. Mimicking her moves, her face drew up in horror.

“You stole my quirk!”

The students that weren’t fighting Mirio off, turned to you in horror. Holding your palm out, acid flew up and you grinned. “I’d never steal someone’s quirk but I can acquire it for a bit. Of course, you still have access to your quirk but so do I….at least for a little bit or until I touch someone else.”

The girl relaxed and scratched the back of her head. “Sorry, I freaked for a second.”

“Do me next!”

A slender blond boy stepped up, an odd looking belt around his navel. “Let’s see if you can control my quirk.”

He winked at you and you looked to Mirio; he was way too busy wrecking students left to right. Figuring he had it, you shrugged and beckoned the boy over, he strutted over to you and posed. Laughing, you touched his shoulder for a few seconds. Feeling a wave of energy wash over your body, you looked over your shoulder to where Tamaki stood. He wasn’t staring at the wall as per usual, instead he was focused on you.

Unable to control the butterflies in your stomach, your body tensed up and before you could regain control, a sparkly laser beam shot from your navel. The sudden jolts and power sent you flying backwards, thrusting you into the air. You shouted in pain as your body flew to the ground, but when you expected the pain of the concrete floor to hit you, it didn’t. Instead, two large tentacles wrapped around your waist, your body collapsing against someone as they slammed against the wall, sliding down to the ground with you in their embrace.

Out of breath, you laid still for a minute, trying to catch your breath. That kid’s quirk was powerful and it was painful too, you definitely felt bad for him. Breath slowing down to a normal state, you felt the tentacles retract, replaced by a strong pair of arms.

“Are - are you okay?”

A sweet whisper danced against your ears and you realized in a heartbeat, who had caught you; sweet, quiet Tamaki. His body was warm against yours and you could feel the heat rising from your toes.

“I feel dizzy, I might puke,” you admitted, sitting up. His knees were bent up and your body was right up against his chest. Embarrassed, you crawled off him, He stumbled to his feet, turning to face the wall.

“I - sorry…” Tamaki stammered over his words and you quickly got up, forgetting about being nauseous. His head moved forward but before his forehead could touch the wall, your hand slipped right in between. His eyes widened at the feel of your palm against his forehead and you smiled at him.

“Don’t hurt your head, Tamaki. It’s too cute.”

A burst of bravery flashed across his face as he looked at you but before he could say a word, your body gave out.

….

The room was quiet as your eyes fluttered open; you were in your dorm, in bed. Feeling better, you sat up and saw Tamaki sleeping on the floor. Heat slapped your face as you realized someone of the opposite sex was in your room. Looking to the clock on the wall, you saw that it was past midnight - okay, that definitely wasn’t allowed. Unable to move, you studied the young man’s face and smiled at the way his indigo colored hair swept over his forehead.

He was a snorer but it was endearing.

Noticing he had no blanket, just a pillow tucked under his head, you reached over for an extra one at the end of the bed and was surprised to see tentacles forming from your hands. Startled, you held back a shout, remembering that you had touched Tamaki earlier.

“This is crazy,” you whispered, chuckling as you grabbed the blanket and reached over to cover Tamaki without having to leave the bed. The tentacles weren’t as long as his but they were a little hard to control. It was evident when you accidentally smacked Tamaki in the face as you pulled away; holding your breath, you watched as he stirred but didn’t wake. Slowly, you crept off the bed and moved around him to get to the full length mirror next to the closet.

When you saw yourself, you nearly died of laughter - you looked ridiculous and not as intimidating as Tamaki when he was in this form. He looked badass in his hero suit, like a knight in shining armor - you on the other hand, looked like a sea creature.

“Oh, god.”

A low painful voice came from behind you, it was Tamaki, standing near your bed. He was still wearing the UA training suit, as were you. He looked embarrassed and upset as he rushed to the door but you were faster, looping a tentacle around his waist. Using all your strength, you held him in place as his hand came over the doorknob.

“Please don’t leave me,” you begged. “I don’t know how long your quirk will last, I could just go touch someone else but everyone’s asleep.”

You relaxed, letting him go when his hand fell from the doorknob. “I - I carried you to the nurses office and then to your room. I -I held you for too long, I don’t know when my quirk will leave you.”

He continued to face the door but didn’t leave. Walking over to him, you felt a strike of bravery - you had adored him for years now, watched him with soft eyes and love in your heart. It bloomed over the years, when others would not take the chance to get to know him. Scolded him for looking down on himself and cheered the loudest in his corner, even though you never thought you would have a chance with him. It didn’t matter, being in his corner was enough but now as he stood in your room, you wanted more.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with my quirk,” he muttered miserably.

Rolling your eyes, you stepped up to him. His back was hunched over but his entire body hardened when you wrapped both tentacles around his waist, pressing your face into the fabric of his uniform. You could feel his nerves rattling as you took a deep breath.

“I’m glad I was given a chance to experience the power you have, Tamaki,” you whispered, tilting your head to the side. Your cheek felt warm against his back as you stared at the mirror, watching his reflection carefully. His face was surprisingly calm, opposed to the tension you felt in the rest of his body.

“W-why?”

The question made you smile and you held him tighter. “It makes me feel closer to you, Tamaki and...and that’s all I ever wanted. Are you that oblivious?”

Terrified of his reaction, you looked away from the mirror and buried your face into his face, clinging to him. Tentacles trembled, waiting for his response to your confession. What if he did not feel the same way? He never showed interest, why would you think he would have feelings for you? You were questioning the moment, wishing it was a fever dream from using too many quirks in one day.

Yes, that’s it, you thought, holding back the tears. He’s not really here, this is a dream and when you wake up, you will be back with Mirio. Back at the gym, kicking 1-A’s collective butt.

Yeah, that’s it.

“Mirio- he...he’s always making comments,” Tamaki whispered, forehead against the door. “Stupid little comments that I know could never be true, because why - why would you like someone like me.”

Your head pulled away from his back and you stared at the back of his head, focused on the nape of his neck. “Because, you’re special, Tamaki. I wish you could see what Mirio and I see, what everyone sees. You’re amazing and I have always wished to be someone you could look in the eye. I want you to look me in the eye, so I can feel special too.”

Tears fell from your face as the tentacles retracted, forming back into your own arms. They started to fall from Tamaki’s waist as he carefully turned around, face hung low. Your heart pounded as he stood straight and finally, after so long, looked you in the eyes. His face was nervous but soft, fingers trembling as they reached for yours. His skin warm and soft as he held your hand, squeezing his palm against yours. His usually frown turned into a quiet smile and you knew then, that you were in love.

“You’re special to me,” he whispered and you beamed, throwing your arms around his neck. Without hesitation, he pulled you close and embraced you. His chin rested on your shoulders as you kissed him gently on the cheek. His face turned red so quickly it made you laugh. Kissing him again, you moved away and touched the side of his face.

“Will you stay with me a bit longer?”

Leaning into your hand, he nodded. “Okay.”

His heart leaped as you led him to the bed, motioning for him to lay down first. He did and watched as you took the space up next to him, your head resting on his shoulder as he pulled your blanket over the two of you. You inhaled deeply, placing your hand on his chest, smiling when he cupped it with his own. The room was quiet as the two of you laid together, the feeling in the air was something new and sweet, and as your eyes began to grow heavy, you said his name.

“Y-Yeah?”

Dipping your head back, you stared up at him. “How did you get into my dorm after hours? I’m sure the administration wouldn’t have allowed it.”

Tamaki’s eyebrows furrowed and he moved his hand over his face. “Mirio and Nejire helped me sneak in.”

Laughing, you drew his hand from his face and grinned. “My sweet, sneaky Tamaki.”

He chuckled nervously and when his eyes met yours, soft and relaxed, you knew what it felt like to feel special.

#tamaki amakiji #tamaki amajiki x reader #my hero academia #mha #tamaki x reader #bnha suneater #anime

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japannkenn · 3 years

Text

(Luca) Summer Heat (rated M) (unpublished/random pieces that I wrote)

Luca doesn’t like children, which is weird, because he technically is one? (He hadn’t been eighteen for that long, and things still felt the same) He does feel bad about it. He’d dealt with them over his years of study in Genova which was always a hassle, but it wasn’t his fault.

He didn’t know why he was intimidated by a couple of adolescents, just on the brink of consciousness of the world around them. Not old enough to worry about things bigger than how fast they can eat their gelato before it melted in the summertime heat.

He guesses he’s one to talk. Even if it’s been three years, he doesn’t feel like he knows anything. He may not be much better than these kids. He doesn’t know who he is. He thought he did. He thought he was starting to figure it out.

That’s why it’s so shocking to see how second nature Alberto is around a band of rowdy twelve year olds in the water, teaching them how to swim. And maybe they weren’t rowdy—just much too much for Luca to handle. He can’t believe how patient he is, how he humors their antics and how easy it is for him.

And he can’t believe how good he looks in that tiny red Bagnino tank top, iridescent purple scales shimmering in the sunlight, practically calling him.

Luca knew this was going to happen, so he brought a book to look down at if Alberto happened to turn back and steal a glance, lest he be caught staring. Because that would be the end of the world considering some of the things they’d done already.

There was a squiggly, fine line to their relationship.

And besides, he wasn’t good with kids. But it was fun to watch anyway. It doesn’t mean he didn’t feel bad.

“Va bene,” Luca hears him laugh from the water, a young girl looking up at him with a red tinge to her cheeks that definitely wasn’t from the setting sun. “If you can hold your breath for ten seconds, I’ll buy you another gelato.”

“Really? And I can pick the flavor?” Her eyes sparkle.

Alberto pauses comically. “No, no. I still get to pick the flavor,” his voice is giggly, and Luca’s heart wants to burst with affection and love.

“Hey! Non è giusto, you have to buy me one too!” A little boy pops up from under the water, eyebrows furrowed up at Alberto.

“Twenty seconds, then?”

“See that one right there?” He points to the same ragazza that he promised a gelato after he’d come back on the shore for a short break, sitting down beside Luca in the sand.

“Uh-huh,” he watches her as she makes a show of back stroking, glancing curiously at Alberto.

“She’s got a massive crush on me.”

Luca scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Ah, I bet that gets your ego nice and excited doesn’t it?”

“Oh yeah,” he jokes, unwrapping an energy bar from his bag. He takes a bite, a quiet moment passes by and Luca awkwardly looks back down at his book. “Nah. I’m just wondering what I did to make her see me that way.” He says idly.

Luca chews his lip anxiously, incredulous. He starts to wonder if this was a trap. What was Alberto trying to do to him?

Whatever it was, it was working.

The Vespa was surprisingly still in commission, ready for a summer of rides down The Downhill, through the narrow roads, twists and turns to the piazza.

But Luca preferred Giulia’s bike whenever he could if she wasn’t using it. But he’d never admit it out loud that the reason he likes pedaling instead is because he thinks it’ll help him become more like Alberto. Physically, anyways. He was quite jealous, really, in this delicious, sensual way.

Actually, he thinks he’d tell Alberto the reason, if only he would ask. He wishes he would ask. He probably never would, because it was almost like he already knew.

“Don’t you wanna ride your fancy Vespa instead? Why do you need my bike?” Giulia even asks one day, putting Luca on the spot as he’s hopping on for a twenty minute cycle around the piazza.

“Let him use it. He needs the exercise,” Alberto says coolly from the porch, Machiavelli slung helplessly over his shoulder as he’s bringing him back inside from a bath.

Luca’s heart drops, his face burning red.

It’s almost annoying how bold Alberto is about it. No, it definitely is annoying. And Luca is tired of being constantly envious of his ever growing muscles. “Everyone’s bodies are different, you know?”

Luca glares at him. He’s trying to wash the dishes and not even Alberto was a fun distraction anymore. Just plain annoying. Stupid, dumb Alberto. “Haha,” he sulks.

“What works for me may not work for you,” he shrugs, scratching at his chin and appraising Luca’s body for a moment. What’s worse is that Luca can feel it, each little thought in his mind. What’s even worse is that in a matter of days, he’d become so self conscious about something he hadn’t ever thought about for more than five minutes.

Sure, he’d done his fair share of comparing himself to people, and especially Alberto. But he’d always had a summer fixation, whether that was a good or bad thing depended. It was always Alberto. And it wasn’t always good.

“If you’re really that worried about it, I can help you.”

Luca pauses, squeezing the sudsy dish sponge in his scaly hand. His first thought is to be defensive about it, and he is, but it’s a much lighter approach when he says with a little chuckle for good measure, “I’m not that worried about it.”

“But you are,” Alberto outsmarts him in that easy breezy way, winning another point for the Fluster Luca game. “Just a little. Right?”

When he turns to glare at his asshole of a friend again, he’s got that grin on his face, like he’d proven something, caught Luca in another lie the same way he could when they were fourteen, knowing and unbothered. It’s annoying.

Grumbling, he forces his attention back to vigorously scrubbing some dried alfredo off of a dinner plate. “I could give you training lessons. Just me and you.”

To keep from short circuiting, Luca laughs again, awkwardly.

Training started at eight in the morning the next day, on the beach. Alberto says they need open space to promote a healthy work environment, but Luca just feels put on the spot. He relied on the fact that Portorosso was a sleepy town, and it was unlikely that anyone would be awake this early. Besides the pescheria. Which is probably eighty percent of this town’s population.

Carp.

“Like this?” He asks breathlessly, trying to keep in tune with a swift jog in place, his entire body burning for all of the wrong reasons, not that he feels his ten-pack forming, but he can tell Alberto is watching him. Hard.

Alberto hums, scratching his chin. “No.”

***

Ferragosto this year is when he platonically-maybe-not-so-romantically falls in love with Alberto and Giulia all over again. They’ve got her old radio blasting the anthem of summer’64, il gatto e la volpe, and Luca can’t explain how excited he is to hear it again.

Fireworks burst over the astounding view from The Downhill. They’re finally old enough (well, excluding Giulia, but two legal adults were enough) to be out on their own under the influence of at least two glasses of wine.

It wasn’t that much, but Luca can’t help how giggly he feels, throwing his head back to sing, “Noi scopriamo talenti e non sbagliamo mai,” at the top of his lungs, delighted when Giulia takes the next verse.

“Noi sapremo sfruttare le tue qualità!” Her voice is shaky and cracks unexpectedly, but to Luca, it’s like music to his ears. Another firework rockets to the sky, bursting loudly.

“Dacci solo quattro monete e ti iscriviamo al concorso,” Alberto sings next, stumbling over the words and his voice is incredibly off key, but Luca beams at him, suddenly wanting to cry.

“Per la celebrità!” They all sing together, bursting into a fit of uncontrollable giggles.

He never wants this to end. He wishes this bottle of wine were bottomless, so that the three of them could lay here in the grass forever underneath the inky black sky, lit up by colorful explosions, wiggling his toes freely in the wet grass, his two favorite people in the entire world right by his side, just like every summer.

But it’s going to end. It always did. That was the reality of it, and he always faced it. But just for a little longer, he could enjoy it knowing there was always next year. For now, he could be irresponsible and enjoy this. A little longer.

He reaches over, turning the radio up to the highest volume, cheering loudly over it.

Lui è il gatto ed io la volpe, stiamo in società

Di noi ti puoi fidar,

di noi ti puoi fidare,

di noi ti puoi fidar

There’s plenty of places to makeout in Portorosso, but somehow they’d ended up behind the house because—oh, now he remembered—it’s almost time for dinner, and they wanted to be back before sundown.

Admittedly, Luca was disappointed that nothing intense had happened on their little day trip to Isola del Mare, and to him it was a waste. He never did well with mixed feelings, and he couldn’t help not being talkative on the walk back to the Marcovaldo household.

If Alberto asked, he’d just say he was tired. Which wasn’t exactly a lie, just not the whole truth— because, merda, the swim there and back really isn’t a cakewalk or anything. He felt near exhaustion, leaning slightly against Alberto as they stumbled down the narrow road, street lamps lighting the dusk night.

He doesn’t know what kind of person he’s becoming, but it most definitely isn’t practical.

He stumbles to trail along when Alberto unexpectedly yanks him behind the dark alley-like space between their house and a neighbor’s and Luca groans confusedly because he’s already a little frustrated with Alberto, even if it’s childish and petty.

“What are you—,” A flame ignites like an explosion in his chest when Alberto roughly slams him against the concrete wall by the shoulders, sucking in a deep breath when he feels his chest pressing firmly against his. “Why—,”

All Alberto does is laugh, and Luca would punch the stupid grin off of his face if he could see it in this light. “What’s that you said earlier? Sono felice? If that’s true then why haven’t you said anything since?”

Luca grumbles. “I’m just tired.”

“Uh-huh, right,” he says knowingly, releasing his tight grip on Luca’s shoulders to drop one arm by his side, the other hand planted firmly on the wall by his head instead. It makes Luca feel worse (better? He doesn’t know), the choice to leave or stay looming over him like a playful tease. “You’re upset I didn’t put my hand down your pants earlier, aren’t you?”

“Don’t make fun of me.” Luca’s face heats up and he makes a weird noise of repulsion. “It’s stupid of me, I know,”

“I’ll tell you what…”

Sometimes or more often than not this summer, he doesn’t recognize himself as a top student in Genova, or a loyal son who herded goatfish for most of his life. It’s weird feeling different and thinking about himself like this. And Alberto, his dear friend who showed him this new world above the surface, is now his lover, a little more than just a friend, all and everything in between, and he’s different.

It’s strange.

This was certainly… unexpected.

When they finally come inside right in time for dinner, they’re skittish, and Giulia gives them a look that’s definitely more knowing than confused, but she’s uninformed nonetheless, and Luca can’t help but giggle. He feels like a brat.

He accidentally bumps into Massimo, rustling away from Alberto’s tight grip on his arm. He mumbles a quick mi scusi, sitting down in his seat. “Lo giuro, ragazzi,” Giulia grumbles exasperatedly, setting down cups of water around the table.

Luca steals a glance at Alberto as he picks up his cup for a sip, darting his eyes away quickly when they make eye contact.

“Ragazzi.” Signor Marcovaldo says sternly, and Luca and Alberto flinch. “Help set the table.”

“Certo, certo, sorry about that, papà,” Alberto rushes to the counter, leaning over to take two plates at a time. He sets them on the table, getting the last two. Right as Luca decides he should get up and help too, Alberto is on his way back to the table and they narrowly miss stumbling into each other, Luca letting out a strained little chuckle as they stare stupidly at each other.

Giulia clears her throat loudly, arms crossed.

Luca and Alberto immediately look at her, breaking out into awkward laughs.

“What is it with you two? Veramente,” she takes a seat beside Alberto after he finishes setting down the plates. Luca is next to stand beside Massimo at the counter, grabbing silverware. He can feel his heavy gaze burning holes through his head as he quickly rinses them in the sink, and if he just hurried then—!

“Luca.” Massimo grumbles. Luca flinches again, willing himself to look up at the man towering above him.

“Si?”

“Calmati.”

Luca shivers, drying the forks quickly in a towel. “Oh, sì, scusa,” he rushes back to the table, giving everyone their silverware before shakily taking his seat again. He catches Alberto staring at him again, and he slightly raises his eyebrows like asking stai bene, and Luca nods quickly.

“For dessert, it’s tiramisu,” Signor Marcovaldo says as he sits down, and Alberto’s eyes light up and he gasps excitedly. “For that, you have Giulietta to thank.”

Alberto frowns. Giulia grins smugly at him, and Luca lets out his first real laugh of tonight. “Ah, come on. Can tonight get any worse?” Alberto groans half heartedly, absentmindedly twirling some pasta onto his fork.

“Sure it can. I helped strain the noodles,” Giulia jokes, her mouth full.

“Oh, is that why you’re feeling so tipo tosto tonight?”

“Of course. It’s more than you ever help out around here.”

#archive of our own #luca 2021 #pixar luca #fanfiction #fanfic #japanken #aged up characters #alberto scorfano #luca paguro #giulia marcovaldo #Luca

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alexiessan · 4 years

Text

Senses - Chapter Four - Soulmate AU

AO3

Previous - Here - Next

Master List

Marinette hasn’t been looking forward to the lunch break at all. All morning, she felt like her stomach was in knots. Alya kept glancing at her while frowning, probably confused about her behavior from earlier. Adrien threw disappointed looks her way too, which she returned. Why was he letting Lila lie when he knew about her fake stories?

Marinette was going to kill Damian for the mess he put her in.

The fashion designer was barely seated before Alya slammed her tray on the table and sitting in front of her, Nino taking his seat beside his girlfriend much more calmly.

“What was that earlier?! I’ve never seen you being so mean to someone like that!” the reporter hissed at her best friend. “You can’t just claim that someone is faking a disability. It doesn’t put you in a good light at all.”

Nino put his hand on Alya’s back, rubbing circles to calm her down. “I’m sure Marinette has a reason for acting out like that. Let her explain before jumping to conclusions.”

The Ladyblogger mumbled something that Marinette didn’t catch but relented, looking at the Eurasian girl with a raised eyebrow, waiting for her friend to start speaking.

Marinette sighed before taking a deep breath.

“First of all. I wasn’t the one calling Lila out,” she said, emphasizing on the ‘I’ before continuing. “I told you guys about how I can take over my soulmate’s body, right?”

They nodded at that. After she had first been in Damian’s body, she had told Alya, Nino, and Kim about the experience.

“Well, Damian was here when Lila was being introduced to us again, and he apparently has no patience for her because he just took over my body and told her off,” she explained, looking at them to see if they would believe her.

She was relieved that there wasn’t a trace of doubt in their eyes. Her friends believed her.

“I knew you would never do something like that,” exclaimed the bespectacled girl. “It was so out of character of you, I was wondering what was happening. Oh, I need to tell Lila so she can understand that you don’t have a problem with her,” Alya said, taking her phone out of her pocket.

Eyes widening, Marinette almost jumped across the table and grabbed Alya’s wrist.

“Alya, no!” she almost shouted, before continuing in a softer voice. “Lila doesn’t know that I have a soulmate, and I don’t want her to know.”

The journalist frowned at that. “But then, she’ll think you don’t like her or something. She’ll think that you see her as a liar.”

Marinette bit her lips, not sure how to proceed from here.

“Look, Alya… Damian may have been the one to say that to her face, but… I do think she’s a liar.”

Her best friend looked ready to protest, to defend Lila but Marinette spoke up before she could.

“It doesn’t matter what I think, really. I don’t want her to know about Damian, okay?”

Nino smiled at his childhood friend before he took his girlfriend’s hand in his.

“Whatever reason Marinette has for not telling Lila, it’s still her choice to share or not. You promised you wouldn’t tell anyone that Marinette didn’t approve of, you remember that?”

Alya sighed before nodding, putting her phone away. “You’re right. I’m sorry I almost told Lila without your permission. I’ll be more careful.”

Marinette nodded in thanks and went back to her lunch.

“Although,” Alya started again. “I don’t know why you think Lila is a liar! She’s amazing, really! If you spent a little time with her, you would see it too.”

The blue-eyed girl groaned at that.

“Alya, please. Don’t force me to spend my time with someone I’m not comfortable with.”

Her best friend pursed her lips before sighing.

“Alright, sorry, I won’t. I just want all my friends to get along.”

Marinette smiled at that. “I know,” she breathed. “And I’m not saying that I’ll go out of my way to not talk to her, but outside of group gatherings, I would rather… not?”

Alya laughed at that. “Alright, alright. I promise I won’t invite her when it’s just us.”

“Thank you!”

After that, Marinette finished her lunch and excused herself from her two friends to go to the bathroom before the afternoon classes started.

Lila met her there, promising to do amazing things to help her in her fashion career, only to sneer and threaten her when she told her that she didn’t believe her.

Lila Rossi really made Marinette uncomfortable, in a way that no other bully ever did before.

She would have to be on her guard when she was around, she thought as she took her seat at the back of the classroom.

“Yo, DC,” a voice beside her called.

The young girl turned to see Kim taking the seat next to her. The boy smiled at her, poking her with his elbow.

“What’s with the long face?”

Marinette smiled at him. “Nothing. What are you doing here?”

At that, Kim groaned. “Max is complaining that I always talk during class. So I thought that I would sit next to someone who knows how to appreciate me, you know?”

“Oh, yes, what an honor.”

“You’re welcome,” he exclaimed before looking around, somewhat anxious. He then got closer to her, leaning in her personal space so that no one else could hear them. “So what’s your deal with Lila?”

Marinette shrugged. “She’s a liar, that’s all.”

“And what’s making you say that?”

Marinette looked at her childhood friend but didn’t see any judgment here. He wasn’t scolding her for calling the transfer student out, he was genuinely wondering why she thought that Lila was lying.

“Well, apart from what I said earlier… Jagged Stone doesn’t have a cat… And how can she be best friend with Ladybug when she literally just moved to Paris? It makes no sense.”

Kim seemed to ponder about it.

“Well, there’s only one way to know for sure, right?” he grinned at her before taking out his phone. Mme. Bustier wasn’t here yet since the bell hasn’t rung yet. “Lila Rossi,” he said in a whisper while he typed their classmate’s name in the search engine.

She got closer to him to look at his phone as he searched for different things, like ‘what happens if you don’t wear ear protection next to an airplane?’ or ‘Jagged Stone’s cat’.

Nothing came up that could confirm Lila’s stories.

“Well, what do you know?” he said as he hid his phone in his jean pocket. “You were right. Good call!”

Marinette smiled at him before facing the board as Mme. Bustier entered the classroom just as the bell rang.

The designer could always count on Kim to have her back.

It was the next day when he was reading in his room, that Damian got a visit from Marinette and she was mad at him if the glare she gave him the moment she appeared was any indication.

“You had no right to take over my body like that,” she began, not letting him say anything to defend himself. “It’s one thing when we’re not controlling it, it’s another when you do it on purpose without my permission. You got me in trouble with my friends and I was the one dealing with the consequences, not you.”

Damian sighed, knowing that she was right. He had crossed a line by taking control of her body without her permission.

“You’re right. I shouldn’t have done that without your consent. I won’t do it again.”

That was as much as an apology as she would get, and she knew it.

His soulmate sighed, the tension in her shoulders evaporating.

“I think we should set some boundaries when it comes to the body take over thing, don’t you think?”

He nodded and she gave him a small smile.

“Alright. So, no taking over our bodies on purpose without our consent, except when it’s a life or death situation. If you think I’m in danger, you can take over and explain to me later why you thought I was in danger if I don’t understand why you did it. Is that okay with you?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

“And do you give me permission to do the same with you?” she asked softly.

Damian couldn’t see what kind of situation he couldn’t get out of by himself, but it was only fair to accept to her terms.

“Sure.”

Marinette nodded.

“Good. When it’s not on purpose then… Well, I guess we just don’t have much of a choice then. Just… If you happen to take over my body when I’m in class, can you just… not speak? I can’t say you made a good impression on my friends.”

Damian rolled his eyes. “That kind of person needs to be deal with as soon as possible. If you give them free rein, they will only get more confidence in their lies and no one knows what they would do then.”

The blue-eyed girl nodded. “And I agree with you. But they’re good people and want to believe the best when others are concerned. I tried to tell them, but they’re not convinced,” she shrugged. “I’ll keep an eye on her, she really gives me bad vibes.”

The youngest Wayne frowned at that. “What did she do?”

The fashion designer bit her bottom lip in a nervous gesture. “Apart from lying? Well, she didn’t like that I called her out on her lies in class,” at that statement she threw him a small glare. “So she threatened me, saying she would take all my friends away from me and make my life hell,” she rolled her eyes.

“So not only is she a liar, but she’s a manipulator. Great.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure how far she’s willing to go to get what she wants so I’ll have to be careful around her.”

She settled on the floor, her back on his bed — she was really respectful of his personal space, he noticed once more, as she chose to sit on the floor rather than on his bed next to him — and she had to twist her neck to look at him.

“Anyway, what are you reading,” she asked with a smile.

And Damian smiled a little as he showed her the cover of his book.

It wasn’t until weeks later that Marinette got the chance to get back at Damian for what he did when he took over her body on purpose.

Except, it really wasn’t on purpose, and the young girl wasn’t looking to get back at him at all. Marinette’s classes had ended for the day, and she was free to do whatever she wanted so she thought she could work on a commission from Jagged when she suddenly wasn’t in her room anymore. She was in a classroom, a pen in her hand and a very annoyed Damian beside her.

The first thing he did when he realized that she had taken over his body was to scoff.

“Of course it had to happen when I’m in class.”

Marinette — in Damian’s body — gave him a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry,” she whispered as to not catch his classmates’ and teacher’s attention. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”

He seemed to soften a little at that.

“I know. It’s just that those idiots are suspecting that I have a soulmate, and I would rather not confirm it,” he sighed, arms crossed against his chest.

Marinette frowned. “Well, it was only a question of time, you know? Since when talking to me it looks like you’re talking to yourself. And the body switch was bound to happen when they’re around at some point,” she whispered.

He pursed his lips. “I know, but the later it happens, the better.”

Marinette felt a bit hurt at his words. Was he ashamed of her or something?

He must have noticed her hurt feelings because his hands reached out to squeeze her shoulder.

“It’s not you. I just don’t like when people put their nose where it doesn’t belong. Even if they know, it shouldn’t get back to the press, anyway. They have a contract to sign every year to not give any information to the press. Same things with pictures on the internet, they can’t put any without my explicit consent,” he scoffed. “They respect the contract, surprisingly. I guess no one wants to be sued by my father.”

Marinette pondered at that. Were Damian and his family important people? She still didn't know his last name.

Damian elbowed her to gain her attention. “Davis is trying to get your attention,” he hissed.

Marinette turned to the front of the classroom, focusing on the teacher.

“What?”

“I said to pay attention,” the teacher, Mr. Davis, said in a frown.

“Oh, I- I’m sorry!” she squeaked.

Next to her, Damian hid his face in his hands, groaning.

The next second, the whole class turned to face her, incredulous expressions on their faces.

The boy who sat right in front of Damian leaned in, looking at her right in the eyes.

Marinette’s eyes widened as she leaned back into her chair, trying to put distance between them.

The boy’s blue eyes widened then, and a big grin appeared on his lips.

“Holy shit. Guys!” He exclaimed. “We were right! Wayne does have a soulmate! His eyes are blue right now!”

Wayne? Was that Damian’s last name?

The boy smiled at her, extending a hand for her to shake. “My name’s Claude! What’s your name?”

Marinette shook his hand. “Marinette,” she breathed, a bit intimidated.

“Marinette?” he repeated louder so his classmates could hear. They all seemed so excited. “It sounds French.”

“Yeah, that’s because it is,” she confirmed.

The teacher seemed exasperated and tried to redirect his students’ attention back to the lesson, to no avail. He eventually gave up since there were only five minutes left and wrote the homework on the board.

Damian pointed to the board with a tilt of his chin and Marinette wrote down the homework while talking to Claude.

She talked with him until the bell rang, the class ending and at the same moment, Damian got his body back.

“Hey, can I have your number,” Claude asked only to be met by Damian’s glare, his eyes back to green. “Oh, it’s you,” he noted, disappointed.

Damian just put his things in his bag, glaring at Claude the whole time before exiting the classroom.

So much for keeping people out of his business.

And did Marinette have to be so outgoing? Of course, she would get along with his classmates right away.

Damian was pissed that Marinette made friends with his classmates but she was delighted. She understood why it annoyed him since she was literally using his body to talk with people he barely interacted with, but at least, she never did it on purpose and it was better than what he did with Lila, really.

What annoyed him the most, he told her, was that people were now coming at him with questions about her. They stopped after a few glares though, so all was well now.

It’s been three months since then, and she managed to get Claude’s phone number when she accidentally took over Damian’s body once more when he was in class.

But that first switch in his class gave her one information: her soulmate’s last name. It didn’t ring any bell to her, and she wasn’t going to research it. When she told him so, Damian had asked her why she wouldn’t do it.

“Well,” she had said, “with how you said that your father would sue if anything about you leaked to the press or on the internet, it was pretty easy to guess that your family was important. The Wayne name is not familiar to me, so it must not be that big a deal in France, but then again, apart from the things that I have an interest in, I don’t really take an interest in celebrities,” she had taken a deep breath then and looked at him in the eyes. “Plus, I want to know you for you, you know? I don’t care about your last name.”

Damian hadn’t said anything then, but he did give her hand a little squeeze, letting her know that he appreciated it.

Apart from those two times, the switch didn’t happen when he was in class anymore.

In those three months, Lila did everything she could to make her life a living hell. She started rumors about how she bullied her, how some weird people would come to talk to her outside of school, how she would talk behind her friends’ backs too.

Fortunately, her friends didn’t believe that. It made a lot of them realize that Lila was, indeed, a liar, but some, like Rose who was an eternal optimist, and Alya who wanted to see the best in her friends, just thought that Lila was confused.

She didn’t mind as long as she got to keep her friends. And when she told Alya that she was painting a target on Lila’s back by uploading her interviews on her blog, she stopped doing so, and her credibility was saved.

There was that one time, though, where Lila managed to frame her for cheating, pushing her down the stairs and stealing her necklace. Kim has been ready to push her down the stairs for real when he heard about it — not that he would ever do that, but the urge to do it was there — and her friends were angry on her behalf. Alya and Rose still thought that it was one big misunderstanding, but they would get there.

One day.

She hoped.

Damian has been visiting when Lila thought she could gloat to her about her plan, telling her that all she had to do to get back in school was to apologize to her or something like that — she hasn’t been listening — but Damian wasn’t happy at all and had asked if he could take over her body for a moment.

Fed up with Lila and her vendetta against her, she gave him her permission.

She didn’t know what he said to the liar as he leaned in to whisper in her ear, but the next day, Lila claimed that she had a disease that made her lie against her will, and she was back in school, the expulsion off her record.

She had asked Damian what he had told the Italian girl, but he refused to say anything.

She had shrugged it off. She was back in school, she still had her friends on her side, and Lila still had no idea that she had a soulmate, so all was good.

Well, as good as it could be, having to share her space with a girl who would go as far as to try to kill Ladybug.

She had discovered during Kagami’s second akumatization that Lila would go very far to get what she wanted.

Those three months as been emotionally tiring for Marinette, and it looked like it wasn’t over.

She has been watching youtube videos late in the night — more like early in the morning — on a Friday night when she suddenly found herself in Gotham’s streets at night. It was cold, she noticed, and she was underdressed for this kind of temperature.

There were loud noises behind her and when she turned around, she saw people fighting.

Or, well, what looked like a scarecrow was fighting Batman and Robin.

But if she was here, then that meant that Damian was somewhere near.

Her eyes locked with Robin’s — she couldn’t see his eyes because of his mask but it was easy to see that he spotted her — and he swore loudly before hitting the scarecrow man in the face.

Oh.

Her soulmate was Robin.

Tag List:

@justafanwarrior @animegirlweeb @demonicbusiness @miracleofadisaster @iloontjeboontje @mochinek0 @lozzybowe @eliza-bich @faunrasthewinterelf @iamablinkmarvelarmy @thatonecroc @dood-space @clumsy-owl-4178 @lilyreadbooks12 @finn-cipher @emilytopaz @wolf-for-life @startouchedqueen1318 @buginetye @madking-warqueen @ultimatetornshipper

#maribat #daminette #maridami #damian x marinette #ml x dc #mlb x dc #miraculous x dc

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dadsbongos · 3 years

Text

Insert Coin - Chapter 3 / Series Masterlist

Sunlight streamed down through puckered clouds, sky bathing in golden backdrop and splattering against the rocky hilltop below. Peko stared straight ahead as the marching came closer and closer until she was surrounded by the source. Robots upon robots upon robots aligned in layers of circles around her, the Ultimate Swordswoman.

Without her permission, an arm raised - her gut twisting at the knowledge that yes, now she was a tool, but it wasn’t for him. Young Master.

Rushing forward, Peko cut through one of the robots with what she’d sworn was a bamboo sword.

Robot after robot fell by her hand.

Countless had crumbled and yet there were still so many left.

Creaking rumbled behind her. Before she could register the blond hair and midnight dark suit, she’d already swung. Cutting through her foe… and Young Master.

Holding his fragile self to her body, Peko cooed and murmured sweet nothings to her Young Master. The robots stumbled forward closer and closer and closer. There was a split pain darting through her back and stomach, blood guzzling as more and more bots enclosed her and Young Master.

Opening her eyes once again, Peko looked into the blinking, blaring red eyes of one of the robots. Its sword rose high, high, higher above its metallic head before coming back down on hers in one clean strike.

“Agh!”

(Y/n) shot up from her bed, gripping the fabric of her sleepshirt in terror, cold sweat drooling over her slick skin. Eyes wide in fear and heart racing.

Nightmare.

It was only a nightmare.

Closing her eyes, (Y/n) was struck with the illusion of Mahiru, slumped against the teal door with the back of her head smashed in. Vibrant pink staining her clothes and clumping in her hair.

Her ears rung and in the background, she could hear the wails and broken sobs of Hiyoko. She could feel the snag of hands pulling desperately at her skin, drawing marks over her body with no care.

She slammed her eyes open, hands coming up over her ears to hide the sound of broken cries.

Until there was a knock at the door, her eyes fell from the door to its lock - finding momentary comfort in that it was, in fact, locked. Her legs shook as she stood, debating on whether or not to answer. It was a few moments later, and after a few more rounds of knocking that she decided yes, she’d open it. Her talent was useless anyway, if she got killed nobody would suffer.

On the other side was Nagito, and peeking past his shoulder, (Y/n) saw that the sun was just kissing the horizon with its fiery, blaring passion. His smile was faint, “I know scum like me shouldn’t pop up out of nowhere, especially so early, but you seemed pretty wrecked after that trial.”

“Don’t call yourself scum,” (Y/n) tiredly protested before pulling Nagito inside by his jacket collar, “But yes, I could use the company.”

“Did I interrupt you?” the boy asked, clearly uneasy about walking into his classmate’s cottage, “I really am complete, irredeemable trash, aren’t I?”

“Nagito,” (Y/n) huffed, forcing the sickly skinny teenager to sit on her bed, taking his head between her hands affectionately, “you’re not trash. You’re my friend. You came to check on me, it was a nice gesture. The morning announcement will probably be going off sometime soon anyway.”

“Are you sure?” he almost seemed like a puppy at that moment. So desperate to be told he’d done well - for a person so bent on being nothing, he definitely desired to hear otherwise. Eyes shining up at the girl holding him so tenderly.

“I’m absolutely sure,” she confirmed, brows furrowing in confusion shortly thereafter, hands rising from his cheeks to his forehead, “You feel a little warm, are you okay?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” he waved off, “Though my throat’s been a little drier than I’d care for. And it’s been harder to breathe.”

“Since when?!” (Y/n) immediately pulled back to grab one of the water bottles Hajime had randomly given her, “Here, you should be staying hydrated.”

“Just upon waking up,” Nagito avoided the girl’s eyes as he uncapped the water, “I’d had some trouble sleeping… coughing kept me up,” he chuckled lightly at the girl’s evident concern, “Ah, to think, such a beautiful ray of hope - all worried over garbage. It’s almost sweet, if only it weren’t me you were worried about.”

“Of course, I’m worried, we’re friends, remember?”

“Oh,” he muttered, sipping at the water before recapping it, “you meant that.”

“Obviously!” she exclaimed, exasperated with the sick student, “Why would I lie about that?”

“To be nice, that was my guess, you are the Ultimate Peacekeeper. Saying things to make people happy is your talent,” Nagito shrugged off, as if having no friends was normal for him.

And at that thought, (Y/n)’s heart sunk a little further for Nagito Komaeda.

“It is, but I’m not just saying that,” she sat beside him, grabbing his hand when he moved to pull away - not thinking himself worthy to be close to an Ultimate, “Nagito Komaeda, we’re friends, and I mean that. If you really don't want to be, then fine, but don't run out of fear that I secretly don't care - because I always will.”

“I couldn’t run from you, and it’s not just my new sickness,” he sighed wistfully, “How unlucky, I get to be on a beautiful island surrounded by Ultimates but then I get sick.”

His luck cycles. Right. She’d nearly forgotten of those. Nearly.

“Good morning, everyone! Looks like today is gonna be another perfect, tropical day!”

“Not-so-perfect with you out of commission,” (Y/n) brushed back some of Nagito’s hair as he drank more water, feeling how much warmer he’d already gotten since she last checked, “Poor thing.”

Shaking his head, Nagito gave her a gentle smile, “It really isn’t much. Please, don’t waste precious space in your brain on me.”

“I’ll waste as much space as I want, now c’mon,” (Y/n) stood, dragging Nagito up with the hand locked in hers, “I bet the pharmacy has something for you.”

“There’s really no need- "

“Hey now, we’re going to the pharmacy,” at the harshness of her own tone, (Y/n) sighed before tacking on a quick, “Is that okay? Can you agree to at least go to the pharmacy with me?”

“I…” Nagito paused, eyes shifting to his feet before closing completely, “Yeah, I can agree to that. It’s the least I could do for an Ultimate.”

“Thank you,” she nodded, shaking their hands together slightly before heading out of her cottage and into the tropical sunlight so typical of Jabberwock island.

Walking past the dining hall the group typically met in, the pair crossed over the large wooden bridge to the pharmacy, catching Mikan gingerly flipping over bottles of antiseptic in her hands. Hands that weren’t shaking. She appeared so… at ease. At home. Calm with the medical supplies stacked in shelves around her - though that was to be expected, it was her talent after all. It was only when people, two people at this exact moment, came in that her fidgeting and flutters returned.

“No need to panic,” (Y/n) reassured, waving off the nurse’s squeals of anxiousness, “We’re just here for medicine, Nagito seems to have caught something.”

Tears buzzed at Mikan’s eyes, hands coming up to block her face as if Nagito and (Y/n) were about to begin beating her for merely existing, “H-how ter-terrible…”

“Please, please,” Nagito sighed lightly, waving a hand dismissively at the nurse’s tears, “Don’t mind trash like me. It won’t make a difference if I drop dead.”

“It will make a difference,” the peacekeeper insisted, grabbing at daytime and nighttime cough syrup before turning to Mikan, “Do we use our Monocoins to pay for these or no?”

“Our- our w-what?”

“Nevermind, it was silly,” (Y/n) giggled, waving at the nurse as she left with Nagito and handing the bottles to the boy, “Here; I’ll go out on a limb and say you know how to take medicine?”

“Luckily for us, I do… well, luckily for you anyway,” he pocketed the bottles, “Thankfully I don’t have to burden an Ultimate with my problems.”

“You wouldn’t be a burden by asking me to help you take medicine, I’d be happy to help.”

Walking into the dining hall, the pair were struck with the odd sight. Posterboard akin to something at a science fair covered in photos of and taken by Mahiru with candles surrounding the shrine, goat skulls lining over the top.

“Hiyoko built it,” Hajime murmured, glaring at Nagito as he approached the girl, “I wouldn’t bring it up, she’s still reeling.”

“Avoiding and chastising her for it will make things worse,” (Y/n) shook her head before siding herself with Hiyoko, “It’s lovely. Mahiru would’ve loved it.”

Shaking off his earlier nerves about it, Hajime went to the blond’s other side before, rather awkwardly, trying his hand at comforting the dancer, “Yeah, what better way to remember her than photos?”

There was no reaction, simply blank staring - shock, despair, neither were sure - from Hiyoko at her two classmates. Her brows furrowed and as she opened her mouth, another voice cut in,

“Guys… I’m sorry…”

Fuyuhiko stood there. Eyepatch over his right eye, but other than that, thankfully, he appeared fine.

(Y/n) shook her head, “It’s okay, Fuyuhiko. We’re just glad you’re up and awake now.”

“Who agreed to that?!” Hiyoko burst out, tears already streaming down her reddened face as she pointed to the other short blond, “If it wasn’t for you, she’d still be here!”

“Hiyoko,” (Y/n) placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder, “I know you’re upset, and for good reason, but we can’t turn on each other. Mahiru wouldn’t want us to split apart because of this - we should be living in harmony to honor her, not fighting,” the dancer relented, eyes clenching shut and still letting out tears. (Y/n) brought the girl into her side, holding Hiyoko tightly in what she hoped was a comforting embrace before turning to Fuyuhiko, “And you.”

Hajime flinched slightly at the stony tone suddenly donned by the peacekeeper when she referred to the gangster.

“Don’t go doing something like that again, you hear me?” (Y/n) huffed, “I get what you were trying to do but we almost lost three people in one day. Mahiru and Peko were painful enough, we can’t lose anyone else.”

Fuyuhiko’s brows furrowed, cheeks filling rouge, “Whatever, you all were doing fine without me anyway,” his shoulders drooped as he turned, voice quieting, “You don’t need me.”

“Good riddance,” Hiyoko stubbornly muttered into (Y/n)’s shirt.

Eyes dancing across the worried faces of her remaining friends, Ibuki suddenly piped up, startling everyone in the dining hall, “Ibuki can fix this!”

Unamused by the girl’s rambunctious yelling so early, Hajime merely tilted his head, “How so?”

“Just be on the lookout for something from me later!” the rocker called out as she ran out of the dining hall.

“I’m sure she’ll figure something out,” (Y/n) mumbled, still holding Hiyoko as the girl clung to her, “It’s Ibuki’s thing to be cheerful, right? She can help.”

She can help...

#insert coin #sdr2 reader insert #danganronpa x reader #sdr2 x reader #nagito komaeda x reader #komaeda x reader

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adenei · 3 years

Text

Ch. 2 How to Win a Witch in 10 Days

AO3 | FFN

James rolls out of bed after the third snooze of his alarm clock. He knows exactly how long he can wait until he has to get out of bed so he won’t be late for work. Sometimes he misses living with Sirius and Remus, who used to help make sure he was up and at ‘em on time.

Stretching, James releases a groan as he goes to the bathroom and turns the water on for a shower. At least I’m not competing for hot water anymore. He steps into the scalding hot spray. He’s barely been living on his own for a month, and has to admit the perks certainly outweigh the drawbacks. Besides, they still work together for Alastor’s Ads, so it’s not like they never see each other.

After a quick lather and rinse, James steps out and towels off. He figures he has a good ten minutes to floo to the office. He’s pulling clothes out of his closet when Remus’s Patronus bursts through the window.

Get to the office. Now.

“Well, that doesn’t sound foreboding or anything,” he mutters to himself.

He quickly dresses and grabs his bag before heading to the fireplace. He’ll have to take a mid-morning break to get a bite to eat since the wolf interrupted his usual routine. Tossing the powder into the hearth, he steps in and transports himself to the office.

Sirius and Remus are waiting for him when he arrives, with looks of concern donning their faces.

“What’s got your wands in a twist this morning?” James assumes it’s not dire, and that Remus only sent the Patronus as a stern reminder for timeliness.

“It’s the Zabini Jewels pitch,” Sirius responds.

The name raises the hairs on the back of James’s neck.

“What about it?” he plays it cool.

The three men begin walking to James’s office, where Remus shuts the door after they all pile in.

“Well, the good news is that Moody liked your pitch,” Remus states, clearly easing James in as he begins.

Alastor Moody is the owner of Alastor’s Ads. After a mission with the Aurors put him out of commission, Moody opened an advertising business to do something with his settlement claim. He knew how corrupt the advertising business can be, so he set out to make the industry a little more honest, consequently weeding out the shadier businesses in the process. In the ten years since the company opened, it’s risen to the top spot of marketing in Magical England.

James’s position typically consists of wooing clients from magical games and sports and the food and spirits industry, but he’s recently begun dabbling in businesses outside his forte. Zabini’s is an up and coming jewelry shop with a lot of money backing its name. James submitted the proposal to Moody earlier that week, hoping to hear whether he would be the one to move forward with the pitch.

“Why do I sense there’s a but…” James trails off.

“Well…” Remus grimaces.

“Oh, come off it! If you’re not going to tell him, then I will!” Sirius interjects. “Moody’s given the pitch to my cousins!”

“No!” James bangs his fist on his desk, causing some of the hot young interns who are standing by the water cooler to jump and turn around.

James relaxes enough to flash a charming smile their way as he turns back to his best friends. “That was my proposal! I should be the one who meets with Zabini!”

“We know. But Moody said something about women ‘knowing and understanding’ the business more,” Remus attempts to calm James.

“That’s bullshit! Maybe they’re the ones who receive the jewelry, but blokes are the ones who buy it!”

“I know, mate.” Sirius throws his hands in the air, indicating he’s not the one James needs to argue with.

James is pissed. He’s worked too hard on this proposal for Moody to give the pitch to someone else. I’m not going down without a fight.

“Where are they?”

“They already left for a meeting at Witch Weekly.”

“Well, when are they meeting with Moody?”

“At Abbott's tonight,” Sirius answers automatically. Remus shoots him a look.

“What are you thinking?” he asks.

James looks down at his desk. Memos are piling up from existing clients, but he can’t be arsed to worry about those right now. He needs to sign Zabini. It will be the breakthrough he needs to stand on his own in the business, and a way to finally prove to himself that he doesn't need to rely on his parent’s wealth.

A look of determination crosses his face. “I’m going to crash their meeting and sell my pitch.”

Sirius holds up his hand for a high five as Remus winces. “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea, James.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not going down without a fight.”

James sits at a small cocktail table, sipping on a firewhisky at Abbott’s, a swanky magical speakeasy tucked away in the heart of Muggle London. The walls are painted an elegant navy blue that stands in stark contrast with the white marble floor, giving off an air of class and wealth that James has always refused to engage in. Gold trim lines the backlit shelves that house bottles upon bottles of expensive alcohol for the bar’s many eager patrons.

Business starts to pick up as the night drones on, and James can’t help but notice how many beautiful women are out on this fine Thursday night. If he didn’t have a pitch to snag, he might be on the prowl, looking for a good time. But he’s already limiting himself to one drink so he can keep his mind clear, but that’s not to say the alcohol isn’t tempting.

“Potter, what are you doing here?” Moody’s gruff voice can be heard from across the room.

James immediately stands up on his boss’s arrival. Ordinarily, he’d hold out his hand in greeting, but Moody’s always been a suspicious man, so he forgoes the gesture.

“I heard you accepted my proposal for Zabini’s Jewels.”

“Yes, and it’s my intention to give the pitch to Narcissa and Andromeda.”

“Why, sir?” James asks. He’s about to continue when another voice juts in.

“Why what?” Andromeda asks.

As if on cue, the Black sisters appear.

“What’s he doing here?” Narcissa quickly follows.

“It’d only be fair if the person who submitted the proposal has a hand in acquiring the pitch,” James says as suavely as he can, ignoring the ladies’ interjection.

“Ha!” Andromeda scoffs, “James couldn’t possibly know enough about what women like to know how to sell jewels.”

“Yes, I don’t think he’s ever had a proper girlfriend to buy jewelry for,” Narcissa adds with a smirk.

“Ah, but there’s the catch. You may think it’s all about what women want. But does a man consult his girl when he’s out to buy her a ring?” James doesn’t give either woman a chance to respond before he answers for them. “Exactly. You’re not just looking at it from the angle of ‘what a woman wants.’ One has to consider the man who’s shopping for his girl, and that is where I come in.”

Moody is listening raptly to James’s argument, which seems like a good sign. James notices Andromeda and Narcissa share a nervous glance, and he knows his ideas are being received better than the women assumed.

“Potter brings up a good point,” Moody says. “Every other advertising company always focuses on the woman, but this has potential.”

“Can’t you see it now? We’d include the women in the slogan, of course: ‘Zabini’s Jewels, where dreams come true.’” James lifts his hands to outline an imaginary sign that bears his ideas.

“Please, you’ve never been in a relationship long enough to even contemplate any of that!” Narcissa smacks her hand on the table in annoyance. “How do you know what it’s like shopping as a man in love? You’d be an imposter!”

“Am I really an imposter if I’m simply waiting for the right woman to come along?” James raises his eyebrows to match the smooth sound of his voice.

“Says the guy who’s only rival for the one-night stand trophy is Sirius,�� Andromeda says.

To be honest, that jab hurts. For years, James has had the image of ‘womanizer’ placed on his head, even since his Hogwarts days. Sure, he’s a flirt, but he’s definitely not the type of bloke to bring home a different woman every night.

“That’s not entirely true and you know it. I have fun, but not that much fun.”

“Prove it, then,” Narcissa crosses her arms in front of her chest in indignation.

“How?”

“Prove you’re capable of a serious relationship. That you can win a witch over and make her fall in love with you. Unless you don’t think you can handle anything more than taking a woman to bed,” Andromeda goads.

James is never one to back down from a challenge, but he worries the girls are doing this to throw him off his agenda. “I would gladly accept if this had anything to do with the Zabini pitch, but—”

“That’s an interesting offer,” Moody’s gruff voice interjects. All three look at him. “If you’re this cutthroat about winning a jewelry pitch, let’s have some fun with it. We’ve been invited to attend a gala that Zabini is hosting a week from Saturday. Find a woman and bring her as your date. If you can make her fall in love with you, you get the pitch. If you fail, the ladies win.”

“But how will you know he’s not paying the girl to fake it?” Narcissa pouts.

“I always know the truth,” Moody says. His glass eye is twitching in all directions as he stares at James with his good one.

Now, this is an interesting turn of events. James contemplates what Moody’s said. There has to be an easier way to shed the girls off his client, but his mind is coming up empty.

You did say you’d do anything earlier, didn’t you?

Yeah, he supposes he did.

“Alright, deal.”

“But we get to pick your lucky lady!” Andromeda interjects.

“What? No! I didn’t agree to that.”

“Oh, come on, it has to be someone completely neutral. We can’t have you calling up a friend and faking it, now can we?” Narcissa reasons.

Ugh, fuck them.

“I’ll allow it,” Moody says, as the girls begin scanning the room.

“Hmm, Cissy, who should we choose?”

“I don’t know, Andie, there are so many people here tonight. It’s bound to be tough. What about that one over there in the neon yellow dress with the black platform shoes?”

James groans. This is going to be a disaster.

“Or the overly eager woman by the bar in the too-tight green dress, downing her third martini of the night.” Andromeda smirks.

“Come on, ladies, let’s try and be fair here.” James makes the request, even though he’s not convinced they’ll listen.

“What about—” Narcissa begins to point out another woman, whom James is sure would never work, when Andromeda cuts her off.

“I’ve found her.”

Narcissa turns her head on a swivel, looking around with increased interest. “Who?”

“There, on the other end of the bar. Long auburn hair in the little black dress. She’s sipping on a cosmo.”

No fucking way.

James follows Andromeda’s eyeline until it falls on a very gorgeous, very familiar face. Lily Evans. His former Gryffindor schoolmate and long-time crush.

At first, James’s mind is screaming an adamant NO. That ship sailed during seventh year when he finally gave up his pursuit of Lily and settled with sixth year Hufflepuff Bridgette Carmicheal instead. It wasn’t until the end of term that he overheard Lily insisting that whatever feelings she thought she might have for him were gone.

‘He chose Bridgette, Marls. I strung him along for too long, and I lost my chance. I’m over it.’

Those words still sting as they hover in the back of his mind. James recalls breaking up with Bridgette within the week, hopeful that it wasn’t too late. But then Bridgette had taken the break-up horribly, and he knew going for Lily the next day wasn’t a good idea. Then graduation came and went, and he hasn’t seen her since.

Seeing her standing there now, his heart leaps into his throat. She’s just as beautiful as ever, and all those feelings he thinks he’s finally gotten over are back, like a tornado completely upending his life. This could be his chance—their chance—to finally make a go of things. The thoughts begin whirring in his mind of ways to win her over.

“Done.”

Before James realizes what he’s doing, he’s standing up, and his feet are carrying him over to where she’s sipping on her drink. She doesn’t see him coming.

“Evans,” he croons as he sidles up next to her.

Her body stiffens when she hears his voice. James hasn’t thought what her reaction might be upon seeing him for the first time in years. Well, it’s too late to back out now. I’ve got a pitch to win and a second shot with the girl of my dreams.

She turns around after a moment, her face impassive, but not unwelcoming.

“Potter.” She’s eyeing him up and down. “Long time, no see.”

“Yeah, since when? Graduation?”

“Something like that,” she shrugs nonchalantly.

“What brings you to Abbott’s?” James would rather know how often she comes here, but he keeps that question to himself.

“It’s been a long week, and I needed a night out. You?”

“Same.” James contemplates what’s made this week long, and is about to ask when Lily continues without prompting.

“Though I forget how stuffy this place can be,” Lily sighs, “Marlene and Alice convinced me to come, but I can’t say I’m having much success in tonight’s pursuits. And I’m starting to think they’ve ditched me. Though, I suppose all’s fair in love and war when you enter the dating game. Don’t you agree?”

Her comment almost throws James off as he looks down at the hand holding her cosmopolitan. He breathes a sigh of relief and thanks Merlin that there’s no ring on her finger. So, she’s looking for a good time tonight, is she? Well, I can certainly show her a good time—and then some—if she’ll let me.

“Couldn’t agree more,” he says in an attempt to continue engaging her in conversation.

She makes the effort to look around the room. Now is his chance to make a move.

“You hungry?”

Lily observes him carefully. James can tell she’s closed off and knows he needs to reassure her that it’s innocent, for now…

“C’mon, Evans, it’s just dinner. Catching up can’t hurt, can it?” He pauses for a moment before making the split-second decision to add, “I’ve missed you.”

It’s true. Standing here with Lily now, James wonders how he coped over the past three years. He thought he’s been managing just fine, but her presence brings back everything he’s so desperately missed about her. James doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until he sees her relax. Her eyebrows soften and the smallest smile plays at the corners of her lips.

She sets her almost empty glass down on the bar before sliding off her stool. “Well, Potter, how can I resist when you put it like that? Lead the way.”

James can’t help the grin that spreads on his face. He holds out his arm as Lily gingerly latches on. Her touch sends a tingle up his spine as they move toward the doors.

Before he forgets, James takes a quick glance back at Moody, Andromeda and Narcissa. He flashes a smirk that he hopes says ‘you’re going down’ before turning back to the beautiful woman on his arm. After ten years of pining, he’s finally got Lily Evans right where he’s always wanted her, and he’s determined not to ruin this second chance.

#jily fanfiction #jily fic #james x lily #jily #james potter #lily evans #magical au #inspired by How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days

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