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hangezoeenthusiast · 3 years

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God(hcs)

c!multiple x god!reader

notes: the reader will be the god of death to make it a little bit more spicy :). c!punz’s pronouns are he/they, i’m not sure about the others, but i know theirs. also why does ranboo take away my gender? /j

word count: 1,672

warnings: arson, violence, cursing, yelling, mention of death, voices in technos part, spoilers for wilbur if you haven’t watch tommy’s lore stream, revival for wilbur, making a religion, time travel, egg, prison, stealing, anarchy, playful name calling

Sapnap

so obviously y’all would be a great match :)

you have creative mode, so when sap would ask you to give him a lighter and tnt, you would GLADLY give it

also, can we talk about him being a nether hybrid

fire squared

like fires left and right, hide your mom and your children in your house lol /j

but besides the whole arson thing, you favor him above anyone else on the server

like if he asks for diamond blocks, well here’s a whole inventory of it, also, here’s some ancient debris and some netherite

if someone asked, you would probably grant them with poison and curses, just because you can’t be “unloyal” to snapchat

wouldn’t be lonely anymore

Dreamwastaken

this duo is less chaotic, but chaotic enough where people avoid you

he still asks you for stuff, but most of the time, you don’t give him it because he annoys you too much about giving stuff

“hey y/n/n, can i pretty please get some emerald blocks.”

“nope bitch, get it yourself.”

but sometimes, you grant him some op shit, when it’s your good day

“because i’m being nice, here’s some diamond, now, don’t ask me again you little piss baby.”

“shut your trap y/n.”

“or what homeless teletubby, what are you going to do to a god like me?”

“you hang out with technoblade to much.”

Georgenotfound

maybe the least chaotic duo

you guys keep on relaxing and relaxing until the point where you don’t do anything

he barely asks you for anything, but only when it’s really really important, like a house or build

especially when he was building his little cottagecore house, he needed your godly presence to help

“y/n, what should the roof be made of?”

“i suggest brick, it makes it more aestheticy if that makes any sense.”

also barely any drama or tea with you guys

never arguing and never betraying each other is a must

Tubbo

also another least chaotic duo

literally help him with his bee farm, he will (platonically) love you forever

gotta be close to ranboo, that’s the rule

gives him SO much stuff, he’s a precious boi 🙄

also gotta be close to tommy, but not as much unfortunately

you help him pick out things for builds, like what material clashes with another, etc

“do you think that the wool and the netherite blocks look good together y/n?”

“nah, what i suggest is the wool with the gold, it looks perfect.”

sometiems, gotta put him in check because he gets a little ego built up

you definitely yank his horn a little too hard because of your IMMENSE STRENGTH

“OW, WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT Y/N.”

“calm down sunny, you were just getting a bit over your head a little.”

Tommyinnit

chaotic duo like sapnap

snaps at anyone who annoys you and vice versa

you give him EVERYTHING, obviously except op and creative

he tries to persuade you to do something, but dreamxd wouldn’t allow it, since he is the main boss

“come on y/n, give me op.”

“no tommy, xd will kick my ass.”

“pweaseee.”

“no.”

you would DEFINITELY help him with the Big Innit Hotel, making the whole layout and color palette.

both of you have an intense hatred for ranboo, since he “stole” tubbo away from tommy

Ranboo

least involved in everything

just stay in the tundra and drink some tea, and you’re good for all of your life

helps him get netherite all the time so your boii can get the good stuff 😬

when he mines to get diamonds, he literally prays to you

“y/n, if you’re listening, please give me a 6 vein, i desperately need it for my collection of diamond blocks.”

and THERE IT IS

more than a 6 vein actually, a 12 vein

guess he needs to pray to you more

daily tea sessions, to talk about the good stuff, and NO, and i repeat NO skipping

threatening to flick water on him check ✅

Wilbur Soot

literally you spoil him

not to be angsty, but when he died and lost his last canon life, you revived him instead of Dream

now he’s practically at your knees

like he’s thinks that he owes you, but actually that’s the opposite

he was revived because you were lonely, and wanted your best friend back :(

prays to you when he goes to bed

“hey y/n, hope you’re having a great day, (platonically) love you.”

“love you too mortal.”

sometimes, to be at the peak of godness, you shower upon wilbur as gold to symbolize blessings, like zeus did before

“omg y/n, what are you doing?”

“i’m trying to bless you, shut up bitch.”

just saying, he would make a religion about you :/

Karl Jacobs

omg don’t get me started on this

first, you wouldn’t codone him going back in time

he would definitely forget your name a lot, so that’s why you hated it

“hey karl, how are you doing?”

“i’m sorry, but do i know you?”

ANGST IS TOO MUCH FOR ME

you were definitely the one to push him towards sapnap and quackity

this is also another spoiled boi

give him the entire world while you’re at it pwease

he wants a few diamonds, nope, give him a chest full of them

Quackity

why are there so much chaotic duos in here?

literally chaos times infinity

energy to the max

literally, did you take an energy drink

grants him every wish he can randomly think off

“can i get a bucket with lava and a fish in it?”

“weird choice, but ok man.”

gotta be close to sap and karl or he isn’t your friend anymore /j

helps with las nevadas a lot, and definitely tries to rig the machines so you get money

“hey big q, i got 10,000 dollars.”

“that’s impossible... y/n, did you cheat?”

“nooo 😊”

help him preen his wings, and he goes “I LOVE YOU, MWAH MWAH.” obviously in his mind 🙄

Awesamdude

definitely helps him maintain the prison

you both love setting up red stone contraptions and pistons and all that giz

“hey sam, do you know where the redstone torches are?”

“yeah, there behind the pistons in the back.”

also you helped build the prison, since he could do that by himself

“are you sure that lava wall will work y/n, your calculations seem inaccurate.”

“i’m sure sam, this will add some more security to this goddamn server.”

nerd squared lol

BadBoyHalo

wouldn’t condone the egg

you warned him multiple times to get away from its grasp, but most of the times he’ll decline

“i won’t y/n, the egg is the future.”

he still, even after all the advancements, even after everything, he tries to ask you to join the eggpire

“come on y/n, you’ll like being with us.”

“i don’t wanna be on a stupid egg side, like let me crack the egg, i wanna eat it and turn it into a omelette.”

he doesn’t like that joke :(

but before he discovered the egg, both of you were joint at the hip

sight seeing was a must

languages being thrown around everywhere, since you were the little language muffin

Punz

steals stuff from everyone

hide your stuff, because the punzo-y/n team is unstoppable

definitely they can be really stubborn and indecisive

like one day, he will be like, “i need gold blocks.” and the next, “nevermind, i need netherite actually.”

like hon, stop switching

also anarchy buddies

burning down forests and buildings are your guys’s specialty

when you give him gold when they doesn’t ask, his heart goes brrr and his brain goes, “pog pog, they’re so cool, lets hug them.”

Technoblade

now this is the most deadly duo in the entire Dream Smp

better not piss you guys off 😐

he’s the Blood God, and you’re the God/Goddess/God being of Death

so if some occasion where you need to battle someone, like Techno’s enemies, *clears throat and murmurs Quackity*, you will obviously back your boy up :)

help him with enchanting and potions and he’s set for life

also you got have to be close to the great Philza Minecraft since him and Techno are buddy buddy

anarchy squared

helps with the voices since you have some of your own

“so what you’re saying is that i need to pay attention to them?”

“yeah, when i first learned that the voices were in my head, i tried to ignore them, but that sucked. so what i did was try to distract myself with various tasks, and that sucked.”

“so what do i do, you’re saying that i should listen to them, but how do i do that when they literally shout at me.”

“just embrace it, obviously when they do their little chant of blood for the blood god, you have to ignore them.”

“you suck at advice.”

Philza Minecraft

so since both of you resemble death, him being the Angel of Death and you being the God/Goddess/God being of Death, y’all are fucking best friends, platonic soulmates if you will

death squared

watch out, because if you piss them off, prepare to d-

gotta be close to Ranboo and Techno, and obviously others who he platonically likes

he doesn’t need to ask you for stuff, he’s the fricking Angel of Death, but he will ask you to preen his wings :D

“ow, not there y/n.”

“oh shut up grandpa, let me do it.”

“I’M NOT OLD DUMBASS.”

Dream XD

two gods at once, damn there is so much chaos

left and right, you guys are noticed by everyone, like purrrr

y’all would be in some fancy shit, to show your power

you would get jealous of him hanging out with george

“why are you jealous y/n?”

“you’re hanging out with george to much, hang out with me please :(.”

gifts are a must, even though both of you have access to creative

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dotthings · 4 years

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Let’s talk about why Dean dancing with a lamp is subtext, but it’s subtext that supports textual arcs. Dean dancing with a lamp is not random. Meta on why Dean dancing with a lamp is part of the build of a textual arc for Dean, thematically, which also connects to his relationship with Cas. This symbolic moment being tacitly about Destiel will only feel like reaching if you ignore context, ignore canon, ignore long arcing, ignore textual material surrounding it. This isn’t just me talking about a ship, this is an important arc for Dean himself emotionally and the way canon’s working, Cas has become the star player in this specific emotional Dean arc about yearning.

Here are some canon quotes. I could just leave these here and not write another word of meta because the canon wrote it for me. But I’ve added some further commentary to spell out clearly what I’m getting at.

Dean in 8.14 “Trial and Error” by Andrew Dabb:

“You see a light at the end of this ugly-ass tunnel. I don't. But I tell you what I do know – it's that I'm gonna die with a gun in my hand. 'Cause that's what I have waiting for me – that's all I have waiting for me. I want you to get out. I want you to have a life – become a man of Letters, whatever. You, with a wife and kids and – and – and grandkids, living till you're fat and bald and chugging Viagra – that is my perfect ending, and it's the only one that I'm gonna get.”

Dean in 10.16 “Paint it Black” by Eugenie Ross-Lemming and Brad Buckner:

“You know, the life I live, the work I do…I pretty much just figured that that was all there was to me, you know? Tear around and jam the key in the ignition and haul ass until I ran out of gas. I guess I just thought sooner or later, I’d go out the same way that I live – pedal to the metal, and that would be it....Now, um… recent events, uh… make me think I might be closer to that than I really thought. And…I don’t know. I mean, you know, there’s – there’s things, there’s…people, feelings that I-I-I want to experience differently than I have before, or maybe even for the first time.”

Sam and Dean in 11.04 “Baby” by Robbie Thompson:

SAM: Really? You don't . . . Ever want something more? DEAN: I'm sorry, have you met us? We're batting a whopping zero in domestic life, man. Goose eggs. SAM: You don't ever think about something? Not marriage or whatever. But . . . Something? You know, with a hunter? Somebody who understands the life?

Sam and Dean in 13.23 “Let the Good Times Roll” by Andrew Dabb:

DEAN: But on a beach somewhere, you know? Can you imagine? You, me, Cas, toes in the sand, couple of them little umbrella drinks. Matching Hawaiian shirts, obviously. Some hula girls. SAM: You talking about retiring? You? DEAN: If I knew the world was safe? Hell, yeah. And you know why? 'Cause we freaking earned it, man.

Sam and Dean in 15.08 “Our Father, Who Aren’t in Heaven” by Eugenie Ross-Lemming and Brad Buckner:

DEAN: Look, man, I didn't want to say anything, okay, 'cause I was kind of in in a bad place, and, uh, yeah, I didn't want to jinx it or whatever, but, you know, I tried the family thing, right? SAM: Yeah, me too. And that's not for us. DEAN: No, not really. But I'm just saying if it was to work, Eileen, you know, she gets it. She gets us. She gets the life. She's hot. SAM: Dean. I mean, I'm not even- DEAN: Look, all I'm saying is you- you could do worse, okay? And she could certainly do better. Like, so much better. I'm happy for you, Sammy.

Dean and Garth in 15.10 “The Heroes’ Journey” written by Andrew Dabb:

DEAN: You know, I gotta say, aside from pincushion in there… this is pretty nice. GARTH: Yeah, better than I ever thought I'd get. I mean, hunting -- I figured I'd be dead before I'm 40. You know, go out young and pretty. But now I've got a great wife, great kids. I guess...sometimes things work out.

Dean in 15.10 “The Heroes’ Journey” by Andrew Dabb:

Dean, wistful, watching through the window as Garth and Bess dance: You know, I always thought I could be a good dancer if I wanted to be.

Ok, let those roll around in your brain for moment.

Now: CONTEXT. CONTEXT. CONTEXT.

There’s this long running arc about maybe Sam and Dean could each find a significant other, not white picket fence, but...something, with someone already in the life, who gets their life. There’s Dean’s move from despairing and believing the only ending he could have, the only ending any hunter could have, is dying with a gun in hand, to Dean’s enthusiasm for the concept of retirement, Dean’s wistfulness about finding a significant other, for what he thinks he can’t have, and he starts the cycle all over again, if he can’t have it, then he wants Sam to have it, so Dean encourages Sam with Eileen. Saileen, the Dean-blessed, Dean-approved Sam ship. Dean ships it. And that is how the canon is trending, complete with Sam and Eileen kissing goodbye and saying “this is real” and even God himself saying their feelings were real, “that was all you,” even if God manipulated events around them. Which is an overt mirror to Dean and Cas and Dean’s expressly stated doubts about what’s real and what isn’t, and Cas telling Dean “we are.”

Much the way Sam has been witness to Destiel, and has often pointed out Dean’s Cas feelings. Dean’s got a front row seat to Saileen and approves; Sam’s had a front row seat to Destiel and approves.

Let’s throw in Robert Berens’ work in The Trap here, since that’s relevant to this specific topic as well, because why did Sam and Dean in the potential future timeline where they’d killed Chuck give up and cave in to their vampire instincts? The world being overwhelmed with monsters...and losing Eileen and losing Cas. It’s right there in the dialogue. I’ll give you the quote and everything:

Sam and Dean in 15.09 “The Trap” by Robert Berens:

SAM: You want to quit? What's happened to you, Dean? Ever since -- DEAN: Ever since what? We lost pretty much everyone we've ever cared about? Ever since the Mark made Cas go crazy? Ever since I had to bury him in a Ma'lak box? Ever since then? Yeah. You know why? 'Cause the monsters -- they're everywhere. Everywhere! What we do -- it's not even Hunting anymore. It's whack-a-mole. We don't even save people. Every friend we've ever had is either dead, or they got wise and they packed it in. SAM: Jody's still fighting, and Bobby -- DEAN: Bobby has a death wish, and you know it. And Jody -- ever since what happened to Donna and the girls, she does, too. And after Eileen... so do you.

“Ever since” Dean had to bury Cas in a Ma’lak box. “After Eileen...so do you.”

So there’s this canonical long, long thread across multiple authors (and those weren’t even all the quotes, I’m sure people could dig up more) about Dean in particular yearning towards finding a significant other, some contentment, with someone who already is in the hunting life, who gets it, who understands.

An episode that flat out shows how losing their significant others is the final straw that rips out Sam and Dean’s last will to fight, and they lose themselves, and after they’re turned into vampires, they just...give into the darkness. Where Sam gives up their shot at destroying the big bad because losing everyone they love is too high a cost. Where losing Cas makes Dean lose hope, where losing Eileen sends Sam into a death wish mindset. Sam and Dean don’t just need each other. That’s not canon, it never has been.

And then right after that, along comes meta episode The Heroes’ Journey. Sorry if you don’t like The Heroes’ Journey, but it’s what the canon did, it’s textual, along with everything else I’ve pointed out here, and in among the crackish humor are some real emotional narrative points.

In The Heroes’ Journey, Dean gets to see Garth’s life. Garth found his significant other, Bess, and she’s another werewolf. Now, Garth’s life resembles the traditional white picket fence idea a lot more than what Team Free Will are headed for. Garth has a big house with a porch, and he’s a dentist. He’s also a werewolf and his wife is a werewolf and his kids are werewolves because Bess is a pureblood werewolf, Garth didn’t exactly leave the life, and he helps Sam and Dean on a case. But nothing’s been indicating to me that anyone in Team Free Will is headed for that kind of settling down, with a house, becoming a dentist. However, the canon has been practically shouting now, as we near final episodes of SPN, to make the point about a desirable outcome--some kind of stability, contentment, and a significant other. Dean gets a front row seat to seeing a hunter can have that. Garth’s a hunter who turned into a werewolf and he can have that.

When EP’s talk about how they aren’t headed for a white picket fence or driving off into the sunset or settling down, none of that rules out them finding...something...with someone, and some form of stability and contentment. Nope, I can’t really imagine them in the suburbs becoming dentists. But canon sure is putting up big neon arrows to...something. Think outside the box. This isn’t about the white picket fence.

And in The Heroes’ Journey, Dean, conked out on the good gas so Garth can fix his teeth, has a trippy dream where he dances with a lamp.

Rewatch the ep. Look at how the dance is choreographed not just the use of light, because that’s a clue too. The whole dance could have been Dean and Garth being dancing bros, but Garth fades off the stage, and Dean dances alone...until he grabs the standing lamp. In a season where Dean and Cas’s relationship is an A-plot, define it how you like, it’s A-plot. Their breakup and their reconciliation, which played like a marital breakup and reconciliation, are tied to major mytharc beats. In a season where a long-running textual theme about Dean’s developing hope for retirement and his wistfulness about “things...people...feelings...” is getting further play. Where Dean and Cas’s relationship continues to be one of the show’s most central ones.

Dean dances with a lamp. While his emotionally fraught, intense close relationship with Cas--A BEING MADE OF LIGHT--has a long-running arc and recently more and more textual level content spelling out the sublimated romantic interest in small words, while there’s an arc about Dean’s yearning for that stability, contentment, a significant other.

CONTEXT.

We don’t think Destiel’s “going canon” because Dean dances with a lamp, it’s that Dean dancing with a lamp is kinda loud serving as reflection of canon textual arcing. Sometimes subtext adds a layer. Sometimes subtext is directly tied to the surface layers, an echo, a highlighter.

I’ll just be over here, crying because Dean danced with a lamp.

#Dean Winchester #Castiel #Destiel #Destiel meta #spn meta #spn #supernatural #Saileen

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kbuggg3 · 3 years

Text

~U m b r e l l a A c a d e m y~ FivexReader: “Stakeout” (Part 1)

IMAGINE: After discovering the apocalypse and getting transported back into the present, Five and (y/n) make it their mission to stop the doomsday clock and save not only their family, but the entirety of the world as they know it.

No ever thought anything like this would ever happen. Everyone assumed the other was content with the lives they were forced to live. Well, everyone except Five. He was very secretive or quiet with his hate for this lifestyle. It started off as a regular day in the Hargreeves residence.

Mother had just finished making breakfast as she rang the bell and all 8 of us raced down the stairs to see who could try and get to their assigned seat first. Of course we couldn’t sit down yet- we had to wait until our father sat down. He would then nod his head, giving us the green light.

Things were going as good as anything can get there. Breakfast was good. The usually smell of eggs and bacon was almost comforting. Until Five decided enough was enough. He slammed his knife into the table, causing the bottom of it to stick straight up.

All of our eyes went wide. Well, everyone’s except mine. I just slouched back in my chair and rolled my eyes. Even 15 year old me was fed up with Five’s shenanigans.

Me and Five were very close. Closer with each other than we were with anyone else in the family. Me, being Number 8, always got picked on for being the last number. But Five would always tell me I had the coolest powers to cheer me up. I had telekinetic powers.

There was this “unspoken thing” between me and Five as Klaus would call it- We were also pretty close with him.

Me and Five liked each other, as more than friends of course. But it was forbidden. It was our fathers rule to “keep it professional” even though we were only kids. That’s one reason why Allison and Luther’s relationship never went anywhere.

The other reason being they were both too shy to admit their feelings. Whereas Five, a person with no filter whatsoever, used to tell me all the time. He told me everything and anything. Five used to slip notes under my door, telling me to meet him after hours.

When everyone was asleep I would open his door to find him waiting for me on his bed, wearing a plain white t-shirt and gray sweatpants, just like the rest of us (Father picked those outfits out as well).

We would lay on our backs side by side on his decent sized mattress and talk about anything that came to mind. Sometimes he would say to me, “I wish we could be together,” as if telling someone you liked them was as simple as telling someone about their day.

But that’s what I liked about him. He was open. Honest. Because we told each other everything, he would always rant to me about how father won’t let him time travel.

So I knew the moment he stood in front of the upright knife with his fist clenched, he was angry about just that.

“Number Five?”

“I have a question.”

Father continued to eat his breakfast as if this were a normal, everyday thing. But it wasn’t. “Knowledge is an admirable goal, but you know the rules. No talking during mealtimes. You are interrupting Herr Carlson.” Five rolled his eyes and responded sternly, “I want to time travel.”

“No.”

“But I’m ready! I’ve been practicing my spatial jumps, just like you said!” Five then proceeded to teleport from his seat, over to the right side of fathers chair. “See?”

Father sighed and took the fork of eggs away from his mouth as he began to lecture Five. “A spatial jump is trivial when compared with the unknowns of time travel. One is like sliding along the ice, the other is akin to descending blindly into the depths of the freezing water and reappearing as an acorn.”

“Well I don’t get it.”

“Hence the reason you're not ready.” Father stated as he took a sip of his grape wine.

Five looked over to me, his angered look immediately going soft. I shook my head, trying to tell him not to go any further. He looked like he was actually considering it, but the moment he looked away, all considerations faded.

“I’m not afraid.”

“Fear isn’t the issue. The effects it might have on your body, even on your mind, are far too unpredictable.” Father then threw his utensils onto his plate making them clatter loudly and he faced Five and yelled, “Now I forbid you to talk about this anymore!”

Five gave me one last look, almost like he was apologizing for something, and then ran off, causing all heads to turn.

“Number Five! You haven’t been excused!”

Of course Five didn’t listen. Why would he listen to our so-called father who didn’t even bother to give us real names, only numbers? But maybe he’ll listen to me. Without thinking, or waiting for consent, I got up from my seat and ran after him.

“Number 8!”

After yelling his name over and over again, Five finally turned around, his cheeks red with anger. “Five, where are you going?”

“Away.”

“What do you mean ‘away’? You're just gonna leave everything?” Five didn’t answer.

“You-“ I began to try and speak again but my voice was breaking. I can’t let him see me like this. I cleared my throat and tried again. “You’re just going to leave me?”

Five’s eyes moved from his untied shoelace to my eyes. His gaze softened again and he slowly reached out for my hand.

“I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve this.”

And then it happened. It’s kind of all a blur really. All I remember is him letting go of my hand and the blue light surrounding him.

I desperately reached out to grab his hand but all I could touch was the sleeve of his uniform. And before I knew it, I had time traveled into the future with him. Every building was crumbled and in ruins.

There were occasional fires here and there. After finding all of our family dead, the only evidence we found was an eye that Luther's dead corpse was holding in his hand. We spent 30 years together in that shithole.

At first it was hell. He was mad at me for being there because it “wasn’t safe” and “I should be at home”. I was just trying to stop him from making decisions that he insisted WEREN’T stupid. Look where that got us.

Eventually we met Dolores. She’s the only friend me and Five ever had. Especially when you grow up as a “baby superhero” as Diego would call us. We never went to school, birthday parties, play dates.

We lived a life that was far from normal, so we were very thankful for Dolores. Eventually me and Five made up, started dating even.

43 years later, Five then made an equation to help us time travel back home and even after Dolores told him a million times that his equation was inaccurate he still used it anyway, causing me and him to go back to recent times.... but in our 15 year old bodies.

After reuniting with our family and almost getting murdered by some of Five’s old co-workers, we are now trying to figure out who the eye belongs to so we can try to stop the apocalypse from destroying our world and everyone in it.

—————————————————————

“I knew this was a waste of time. I mean what did I expect her to do? Help us?” (y/n) and Five walked away from Vanya’s apartment complex.

They had tried telling her about the apocalypse and where the couple had been for the past 16 years, thinking she was the only one they could trust, but it was too much information for her to handle. She didn’t even know how to respond to them.

“Well, Five, how did you expect her to respond? Did you think she was going to understand everything immediately? We’ve been gone for the past, what, 16 years? For them at least. For us it was 43.”

“I understand that, but you’d think she would have something to say or questions at least!” (y/n) nodded in agreement. “Let’s just go to the laboratory and find out who this eye belongs to.”

Five nodded as well and grabbed her hand. He then teleported them to the front steps of the laboratory. (y/n) let go of his hand and began to walk up the steps, but he pulled her back and wrapped his hand around hers as he tried to keep his eyes forward and act normal.

Even though every touch, although some small, makes his heart beat 10 times faster and the heat to rise to his cheeks. (y/n) just giggled and kissed his cheek, that soon began to turn a slight shade of pink.

They walked through the doors, hand in hand, with hopeful smiles on their faces.

—————————————————————

“What. An. Idiot.” Five said angrily as he stomped down the steps. (y/n) and Five had attempted to ask the guy for the name of the owner of the eye, but he insisted that he could not give out that information. And when the man looked me up and down, Five got a little violent and they called security.

“Well maybe if you hadn't threatened to ram the guy's head into the wall, we probably would’ve actually gotten somewhere.” (y/n) stayed as she sat on the steps and watched as Five paced back and forth, attempting to think of another plan.

“Wha- i- He was looking at you in a way that no older man should be looking at a 15 year old!” Five shouted pointing toward the doors to the lab. He then sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose instead. “Alright. Fine.

Let’s just... go with plan B.”

“Which is....?”

—————————————————————

“You want me to do what?”

“Klaus, please! This is important!” (y/n) said, folding her hands like she’s begging.

“So you want me... to go to this laboratory.... and pretend to be your dad so you can, what, find the name of the person who owns an eyeball that you found in the future?”

Five and (y/n) shared a look and shrugged. “Yes...?” After a moment of silence Klaus finally spoke up. “I’m too sober for this. I am NOT going to do this.”

—————————————————————

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Klaus said frustratedly as he, Five, and (y/n) walked down the familiar hallways of the laboratory. “You’ll do anything that involves you getting paid, won’t you?” Five snapped. “Hey 20 bucks is a great deal don’t you think?” Klaus turned to (y/n) and she shrugged then nodded her head.

They eventually made it to Mr. Big’s office, which was the same guy Five threatened. “I’m sorry but without the client’s consent, I simply can’t help you.” Five stood up and angrily responded, “Well we can’t get consent if you don’t give us a name.”

“Well that’s not my problem. Sorry now there’s really nothing I can do, so-“ Before the guy could finish, Klaus interrupted. “And what about my consent?”

“Excuse me?” My. Big’s replied confused. “Who gave you permission... to lay your hands... on my children?” He began to fake cry as me and Five looked at each other, and then at Klaus with a confused look. “Wha- I’m sorry?”

“You heard me.”

“I didn’t touch your children!”

“Oh really? Then how did my son get that swollen lip then?” Klaus stands up and faces Five. “He doesn’t have a swollen-“ Klaus brings his arm back and punches Five hard in the mouth. (y/n) gasps, but doesn’t move from her seat, trying her best to play along with whatever it was Klaus was doing.

Five touched his hand to his mouth, looking at the blood on it. He looked like he was going to kill Klaus right then and there. “And as for my daughter!” Klaus began to look at me with his arm pulled back, ready to hit, but before it reached her face (y/n) grabbed his fist and yanked it forward so his face was close to hers and she whispered, “Touch me, and I’ll kick your *ss.” Klaus just smiled and backed away.

“What about your daughter?” Klaus looked at me with a smirk and I began to fake cry. “H-He touched me! He tried to rape me!” Five smirked as well as he wrapped an arm around my waist and Klaus laughed with joy.

“You guys are crazy.”

“You have no idea.” (y/n) replied chuckling slightly. Everyone watched as Klaus picked up a snow globe that was sitting on the man's desk and he read it. “‘Peace on earth.’ That's so sweet.” He then smashed it onto his head causing it to shatter and his head to bleed. I jumped slightly at the noise and Five’s grip on my waist tightened as if to reassure me it’s ok.

“God that hurt.” Klaus groaned. When the guy reached for the phone on his desk and typed in a number, most likely security again, Klaus took it out of his hands and held it up to his ear. “There’s been an assault...” he “cried”, “in Mr. Bigs office and we need security, now. Schnell!” He yelled then threw the phone down and shook his head to try and make the blurry vision go away.

“Now here’s what’s gonna happen Grant.”

“I-It’s Lance... actually.”

“In about 60 seconds, two security guards are gonna burst through that door, and they’re gonna see a whole lot of blood and a distraught little girl, and they’re gonna wonder ‘What the hell happened?’” Five looked me up and down, smirked, then looked over to the man. “And we’re gonna tell them that you... beat the shit out of us and RAPED our little girl!” Klaus continued to fake cry but it turned into a laugh when he saw the man's terrified expression.

“You're gonna do great in prison, Grant. Trust me, I’ve been there.” Lance just gave him a weird look but Klaus continued. “Little piece of chicken like you. Oh my god you're gonna get passed around like a......” he tried to think of something to say but couldn’t do he just brushed it off.

“You’re just- you're gonna do great. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Jesus, you’re a real sick bastard.” Lance replies.

Klaus’ face went stone cold as he responded, “Thank you.” And spit a piece of glass from his mouth. (y/n) walks over to his desk and leans down close to his face, to where her slightly unbuttoned uniform shows her cleavage. She reaches her hand past him, resting her arm on his shoulder, as she tries to reach the small drawer behind him to get a lollipop.

She can hear his unsteady breathing which makes her want to throw up, because he’s actually somewhat liking this 15 year old girl seducing him, but also smirk because her plan is working.

Her fingers finally wrap around a lollipop and she whispers with a smile, “It’s a pleasure doing business with you.” She pulls back, unwraps the lollipop and puts it in her mouth. She then throws the wrapper onto Lance and walks out of the room with a sway of her hips. Five stared at her in awe and Klaus winked at the guy.

Finally, Lance took them to where all of the files are. Five stood in front of the desk, Klaus sat on the other side, facing Lance and all the files, and (y/n) propped her elbows up on the end of the desk, her chin resting on one of her fists as she watched the man as he searched through the drawer.

“That’s strange.”

“What?” Five demands.

“Well, the eye hasn’t been purchased yet.”

“That is strange.” Klaus says standing up and circling Lance to make him nervous.

“This can't be right. It hasn’t even been manufactured yet. Where did you get that eye?” He asks looking up from his files and at Five.

He just shakes his head.

—————————————————————

“Well this is not good.” (y/n) says as the three of them walk back down the steps of the lab. “I was pretty good, though, right? ‘Oh ya? What about my consent bitch?’” Klaus laughed, trying to re-enact the scene from earlier.

“Klaus, it doesn’t matter.”

He just rolls his eyes and responds, “What’s the deal with this eye anyway? Why is it so important to you?”

“Someone out there is going to lose an eye in the next seven days.” (y/n) responds as Five finishes.

“Exactly. They’re gonna bring about the end of life on this earth as we know it.”

Klaus was listening, but didn't really understand what it meant. He didn’t try to understand because he doesn’t really care. He just wants his money.

“Yeah whatever. Hey, can I just get my 20 bucks, like, now?”

“Your 20 bucks?” (y/n) asked as Five rolls his eyes.

“Yeah my 20 bucks.”

“Unbelievable. I give up.” She throws up her arms and walks back to the steps and sits down. She rests her elbows on her knees and her chin rests on one hand while the other hand holds her unfinished lollipop.

“The apocalypse is coming, and all you can think about is getting high?” Five snaps. “Well I’m also quite hungry.” Klaus rubs his stomach then makes a growling noise. “You're useless.” Five shakes his head and walks over to (y/n), sitting next to her and stretching his legs out in front of him.

“Oh come on. You need to lighten up, old man.” Five signs and grabs (y/n)’s free hand, placing their intertwined hands in his lap and gently rubbing her hand with his other. “Hey you know, I’ve just realized why you're so uptight. You must be horny as hell!” Klaus laughs as if he’s just discovered a new scientific discovery.

(y/n) and Five just look at him and then continue on with what they’re doing. “All those years by yourself. It’s gotta screw with your head being alone.”

“I wasn’t alone. I had (y/n).” (y/n) smiles a little and stares down at their hands. “Perfect! Well why don’t y’all get together and... we’ll ya know!”

“You know what? Your right Klaus.”

“I-I am?”

“He is?” (y/n) asks, standing up with Klaus. “Of course he’s right. He’s always right. Well, we best be on our way then!” Five grabs (y/n)’s hand and pulls her towards the road, leaving Klaus there with a surprised look on his face. “Hope you don’t mind if we use your bed! Thanks!”

“Wait... what?!” But before Klaus could say anything else Five teleports himself and (y/n) into a taxi. “Wait no! Not my bed! Also I need my 20 bucks!” Klaus yells, running after the car. (y/n) just rolls up the window and waves as Five pulled her into his lap and kisses her jaw, then her neck, then her collar bone, and goes back up.

“Was it true what you said?” (y/n) asked, smirking. “Not entirely.”

“Oh? How so?”

“Well, for starters, I wouldn’t say that I’m not horny but....”

“Mhm. And...?”

“And that is NOT the reason why I’m ‘uptight’.” Five says pouting a little. (y/n) just laughed and they continued to kiss. When they were completely out of sight, Klaus ran his hands through his hair.

“Shit.”

#five #five hargreeves #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #five x reader #five x you #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x you

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scapegrace74-blog · 3 years

Text

Ginger Snap, Chapter 5

A/N Know what this fic needs? More Geillis. No really, I think you guys are going to like where I’m going with this. Just bear with me. Only one more chapter to go after this one, plus an epilogue. Thanks for coming on the journey with me! With due credit to Sia, this chapter’s title is Fire, Meet Gasoline.

Previous chapters are best enjoyed on my AO3 page, because I have a bad habit of going back and editing them after they’ve been posted.

Geillis Duncan drove much the way she approached life, which was to say without much regard for rules and at white-knuckle speed. I gripped her Range Rover’s leather cushion and swallowed any exclamations of dismay as we ricocheted through Edinburgh’s late afternoon traffic. When we finally slid into an underground parking spot and emerged into the bustling festivity of the Princes Street Christmas Market, I felt the tension of imminent disaster abandon my shoulders.

“Where to first, then?” Geillis asked, looking far too animated by the prospect of accompanying someone while they did their Christmas shopping.

Geillis and I had kept in touch and met for coffee a few times over the past months. When I explained that I wouldn’t be taking any more cooking classes at Ginger Snap because Jamie was giving me at-home lessons, her reaction was a moonbeam grin.

“Look at ye, wee vixen! I ne’er wouldha thought ye had it in ya, Claire. Tho I canna say as I blame ye.”

No matter how much I protested that I was together with Frank and that my relationship with Jamie was purely professional, she refused to believe me. The ongoing absence of a ring from my left hand didn’t help.

“Now,” Geillis exclaimed once we’d taken in the sights and sounds of the market, “let’s have a keek at yer list. Where should we start?”

I pulled out my phone and opened the Notes app. As she read, my friend’s nose wrinkled in confusion.

“Trouser socks, shoe stays, Moleskine notebook, Rive Gauche... who are ye shopping for, yer grandparents?”

“No,” I protested. “The first three are for Frank. The perfume is for me.”

When I explained that Frank had made a list of the items he would like to give me for Christmas, Geillis grew incensed.

“Ye mean he has ye doin’ his gift buying fer him? Tha’s the least romantic thing I’ve e’er heard. Do ye even like Rive Gauche, Claire? And dinna lie tae me, fer I can read yer feelings all o’er yer face.”

Truthfully, I didn’t much care for the flowery scent. My personal taste ran more towards woodsy or herbaceous aromas. But it was Frank’s favourite, and it pleased me to please him. Or it had. I was beginning to wonder when it would be my turn to please myself.

“Right,” Geillis interrupted my thoughts. “Marks and Sparks will do jes fine for yer wee granny list. And then you and I are going shopping fer yer real gift.”

Geillis was a force to be reckoned with in a retail environment. She navigated like a guided missile from one department to the next. Twenty minutes later, we were back on the pavement, which glistened with the colourful reflections of decorations strung above.

“Your car is the other way,” I explained as Geillis turned left.

“Aye, tis, but our destination is right o’er here. House of Fraser. See? Tis practically calling yer name, Claire.”

Inside the venerable old building was an astonishing multi-tiered arcade reaching over five stories to a massive skylit ceiling. The central space was dominated by a fifteen metre-high Christmas tree (a Fraser fir, of course) and every archway of every arcade was dripping with lights. The impression was like stepping into a Fabergé egg.

Geillis dragged me, slack-jawed, towards the ladies’ wear section. Circling the racks like a hawk on the wind, she eyed my body, sizing me up quite literally, then thrust several pieces into my hands.

“Geillis,” I hissed, wary of the sales staff hovering nearby, no doubt smelling an excessive commission in the offing. “I don’t need a new outfit. And I certainly don’t need,” I shook the garments in question, “something like this. Wherever would I wear it?”

“Well, fer starters, ye’d wear it tae dinner t’night. I dinna wish tae offend ye, Claire, but I canna in good conscience allow ye tae set foot in the Timberyard dressed fer a job interview as a primary school teacher.”

With that she shoved me in the direction of the changing rooms. Deciding to humour her, I was unbuttoning my top when two lacy bits of nothing came flying over the door.

“Start wi’ these. And dinna think I willna notice if ye’re no’ wearing them!”

I stripped down to my panties, bemusedly wondering how she knew my exact bra size.

Upon seeing me exit the dressing room in her choice of clothing, Geillis let out a squeal of delight. She insisted I rip out the tags and leave the store wearing my new outfit, declaring it was her Christmas gift to me.

I felt tremendously self-conscious as we walked towards the restaurant. The aubergine velvet jeans clung to my legs in an unfamiliar way and the black turtleneck, while technically not revealing, hinted at kink with its many heavy zippers and fastenings. Together with my unruly hair, unstraightened for once, I felt like another woman entirely. I didn’t recognize her, but I felt like she might be someone I’d like to get to know.

The Timberyard was a modern restaurant in a rugged old warehouse, not far from the farmer’s market I’d visited with Jamie. We were joined there by several of Geillis’ friends, and we ate, drank and laughed until my sides were sore.

As I wobbled to the loo, I noticed the bartender following me with an appreciative gaze. It had been a long time since a man had looked at me that way, and it gave me a guilty thrill.

We left the restaurant just before midnight. I pulled Geillis into an impulsive hug.

“Wha’ was that for, hen?” she asked.

“Nothing. Everything. Just, thank you for being you, Geil.”

“Och, tis my pleasure, lass. I only want tae see ye happy. Now, what do ye say to a digestif?”

After only a slight protest on my part, the two of us piled into an Uber. Our destination was another restaurant, this time in a converted whisky warehouse by the harbour in Leith. It was well past last sitting, but when I mentioned this to Geillis she explained away my concern.

“I ken the owner, who’s also the chef. Tis a popular spot fer locals in the restaurant scene tae meet after they close up fer a few drinks afore heading home tae their beds.”

Inside, the walls were rough stone, supported in places by industrial metal beams. The kitchen was open to the main dining area, and I grinned as I thought of Frank’s strong opinion on the matter. Near the back of the room, lit by dim naked bulbs and the glow from several open fireplaces, was a huge square table surrounded by nearly twenty chairs upholstered in bright yellow plaid. Around the table was gathered a motley assortment of men and women, all talking and laughing and sipping on a variety of drinks. And in their midst, his copper hair shining in the firelight, sat Jamie.

A shout went up from the table as Geillis approached. I hung back, tugging at the hem of my new turtleneck as though I could stretch it to cover my arse. Besides Jamie, I recognized Jenny, Angus and Murtagh, but I only had eyes for the big ginger chef. He sat at one corner, probably in deference to his long legs which were stretched out before him, wrapped in black denim. A black leather jacket hung over the chair behind him. He looked dangerous. It was a very good look for him.

Dragging me by the elbow, Geillis nudged and bumped Angus to one side despite his vulgar protests, then practically pushed me down into the chair directly next to the chef. With a smug smile of satisfaction, she then retired to the opposite side of the table.

I looked anywhere but directly at Jamie, but I could feel his butane eyes on me. I was certain he would scorch right through my outer layers and down to where Geillis’ choice in lingerie burned against my tender skin. The noise from the rest of the table faded away.

“Ye look bonnie t’night, Arsonist.” His voice was low and gruff and it sent a quickening through my veins.

“Thank you, Jamie. It was Geillis’ Christmas gift to me, and I feel, well... let’s just say it isn’t my usual look.”

“It suits ye, I think.” He reached out and lightly touched the silver tab of a zipper that ended near my wrist, setting it swinging. I swallowed and looked frantically around. Several open bottles of liquor stood nearby. Grabbing the nearest one, I poured myself a generous serving and knocked it back, all in one go. I tried to steady my breathing.

“Look, Jamie...”

Just then a blond man in chef’s whites called to Jamie from across the table. An exchange involving a lot of Scottish cursing and an off-colour reference to someone’s lobster pot ensued. I tried to convince myself I needed to leave. It was late, I was half-drunk, and whatever I intended to say to Jamie should definitely wait for another moment. Maybe never.

A hand on my thigh broke my preoccupation.

“Sorry, Arsonist, ye were sayin’ something?”

I wet my lips, frantically trying to recall anything but the feeling of Jamie’s strong fingers, stroking me through the velvet of my jeans.

“I...”

At that moment, the woman on Jamie’s far side broke into song. The rest of the table cheered and clapped along, and it was impossible to hear anything except the concussive pounding of my heart against my eardrums.

Jamie grabbed my clammy hand.

“Come wi’ me,” he instructed, grabbing our outerwear and pulling me towards the door. Geillis watched our departure with all the excitement of a child on Christmas morning.

Outside the air was dense and cold, a briny slap after the stuffy warmth of the restaurant. Jamie obviously had a destination in mind, and we walked hand-in-hand along the cobbled streets for several minutes before finally emerging at the port. A jetty struck out into the inky sea, and it was there that we ended up. Besides a few gulls and the winking of a nearby lighthouse, we were all alone. The sodium street lights caught Jamie’s curls and made them burn.

“Forgive me, Arsonist. I couldna hear myself think in there. Tho, come tae think of it, tis no’ much better now.” Rather than release me, as he spoke Jamie stroked my hand, running calloused fingers over each vein and every knuckle. I don’t think he even realized he was doing it, but it stole every thought from my head.

“No ring,” he remarked, stroking the finger in question.

“No,” I whispered in response.

And then it burst out of me, like a tidal wave of feeling that I never saw coming. I told him everything. My childhood roaming the globe with my uncle, pre-occupied and rootless, dreaming of stability. Meeting Frank at Harvard, and realizing that he represented all the things that my life to date had lacked: structure, security, a solid foundation, a home. And how it took moving to Scotland and coming into contact with a group of near-strangers to make me realize that the price I had paid for that stability was higher than I’d ever imagined. I’d given up my dream of becoming a doctor. I’d become so lost in Frank’s vision of who I should be that I’d almost lost sight of who I actually was.

By the time the flood of words left me, I was in Jamie’s arms, crying into his leather jacket. He hushed me with quiet murmurs and languorous stroking of my hair, as one would a child who has woken from a nightmare.

I stepped out of his embrace and rubbed my sleeve across my face. I must have looked an absolute mess, but he still watched me with those earnest, patient eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I began, “I don’t know what...”

“Claire,” he interrupted. I’d never before realized just how many consonants were in my given name. “Ye dinna need tae apologize tae me. But ye may want tae consider an apology tae yerself.” At my raised eyebrow, he continued.

“I’m no’ the kind of man tae tell another what they should and shouldna do. But ye strike me as someone who’s made decisions fer the right reasons, yet ended up in the wrong place.” Here he paused, as though carefully weighing his words. “There’s no sin in changin’ yer mind, Arsonist. Tis very well tae be hungry, so long as ye ken what ye hunger for.”

“And what do you hunger for, James Fraser?” The provocative words had left my lips before I had the chance to censor them. His answer came in the form of a blistering look that left no doubt as to its meaning. Then he gathered himself, banking the fire I’d unconsciously ignited.

“Many things. Regular, ordinary things, mostly. My family’s health and happiness. A faster bike. My own restaurant.”

“Like Tom’s there?” I asked, gesturing towards the harbour.

“Och, Tom is a braw chef, and worthy o’ every accolade tha’s been showered upon him. But the hospitality scene in Edinburgh is cut-throat, an’ suitable locations cost a fortune. Nah, Jenny and I want tae buy back our childhood home in the Highlands. Tis called Lallybroch, and when our Da passed, our Mam sold it tae her brother. We’d turn it inta a country inn, wi’ Jenny running the lodging side o’ things and I the dining. Tha’s the dream anyway,” he ended with a shrug.

I rested my hand on his forearm. “That sounds like a wonderful plan, Jamie.”

Before he could reply, an enormous yawn burst from my lungs.

“Time tae get ye home tae yer bed, Arsonist,” Jamie grinned. “Come, I’ll give ye a ride.”

“Wait, haven’t you been drinking?” I inquired as we walked back down the jetty.

“Three years sober,” he explained with no hint of embarrassment. “I went somewhere pretty dark after my Mam died, an’ it took a near-fatal crash tae scare me straight.” His eyes squinted in a poor approximation of a wink as he added, “Besides, there are better ways tae chase a rush than in the bottom of a bottle.”

“Such as?” I asked brazenly.

Which was how I found myself on the back on a black motorcycle, my arms twined around Jamie’s waist. Rather than take me directly home, he steered us north, following the coast. It was very late, with hardly another vehicle about. We merged onto the motorway, and Jamie picked up speed. My thighs tightened around his lean hips, the vibration of the motor beneath us shivering up my spine. As we emerged beneath the hastate lights of the Queensferry Bridge, I stretched my arms wide, icy air ripping against the sleeves of my jacket. I laughed, although no-one could hear me. I yelled, and only the wind yelled back. I was flying.

***

It was nearly dawn when Jamie pulled up in front of my flat. My legs thrummed, my eyes were dry with fatigue, and my heart ached, but I felt better than I could ever remember. I handed Jamie back his spare helmet and shook out my curls. He watched me in that half-sleepy, half-vigilant way of his that I now recognized as desire.

“I don’t know what I could ever say to thank you, Jamie.”

“Ye needn’t say anything at all, Arsonist. Nae matter what ye decide, it has been my very great honour tae get tae know you.”

Without another word, he kick-started the engine and drove off into the early morning mist.

“Goodbye,” I whispered to his vanishing shadow.

***

The lamp above the couch was lit, and Frank lay still beneath its glow. I realized he had fallen asleep waiting for me to come home. Instead of regret, what I felt in that moment was pity.

The sound of my jacket being unzipped woke him. He blinked in confusion and then in shock.

“I’m very sorry if you were worried,” I began.

“Worried? Do you have any idea what time it is? My God, Claire, I don’t know what to make of you these days. You’ve never behaved irresponsibly before, and now you’re out at all hours and you’re wearing,” he gestured wildly with his hand at my new outfit which I had, quite honestly, forgotten I was wearing. “And your hair, Claire!” he finished, as though the manic state of my curls was definitive evidence of my fall from grace. Despite my exhaustion, I stood tall.

“Frank, we need to talk.”

#my writing #outlander #ginger snap

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caitlyn-winchester · 4 years

Text

Pilot (Part 3)

Cordell Walker x daughter!reader

word count: 1,667

warnings: mention of dead parent, abandonment issues?

masterlist

»»————-　★　————-««

It was the next morning and I got ready for school. I went toward the kitchen and saw grandma making breakfast and August sitting on the kitchen island.

"Goodmorning." I greeted my family and hopped up on a stool.

"Mornin' Y/N, eat up!" Grams said while putting some eggs and toast in front of me. I poured myself a glass of juice and started to eat my breakfast.

"Is dad almost ready to take us to school?" I asked August but he shook his head which caused me to frown a bit.

"He got a call, he had to go into work." He replied and Uncle Liam entered the kitchen while fixing his tie.

"Of course." I grumbled, "Can't even greet his kids in the morning" I sighed.

"Come on Y/N/N. We got a good morning routine going anyways." Uncle Liam reminded

"I know but I just wish he'd be here with us, you know, to parent and do family like things together." I pointed out.

"He can't just not do his job, Y/N. It has always been like this. I don't know why you're being so annoying about this now." August seethed

"Really August? You're telling me you didn't want dad to be here these past eleven months? To go through this tough time together, lean on each other like we've always done, have him by our side when we went through these life adjusting changes. You really didn't need him at all?" I asked and August was quiet. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

"That's enough, Y/N." Grams chimed in. "You're dad is here now."

"No he's not!" I raged. "I don't think you understand, yes he is here in Austin but he is not here spending time with us." I ran a hand through my hair and got up from the island. "I-I'm sorry, I'm just going to walk to school today." I apologized, grabbed my backpack and left the house.

»»————-　★　————-««

I left school after my morning classes. Every little thing started to aggravate me, especially after this morning. I decided to go to the gazebo at Lady Bird Lake to clear my head. I just don't understand why dad wanted to jump back into work so quickly. Why couldn't he just take a second to get to know his family again. I miss him.

As I sat on the floor of the gazebo I heard a truck pull up. I turned my head to see who it was and it was dad. He climbed out of the car and we made eye contact. I turned my head away and sighed.

"Do you know who worried we've been?" he asked.

"Well you actually showed up, so this must be a super big deal for you." I quipped.

"Did you forget the part where I picked you up at the police station last night? And now you're here?" He motioned to the lake. "What are you playing at Y/N?" he demanded.

"It's not a game." I stood up from where I was sitting and faced him.

"Then tell me what the hell this is so we can end it," he began, "I'm telling you right now, we can't keep going on like this. Trying to figure out where you'll be next, scaring the crap out of everyone. I'm in the middle of a case!" he ranted.

"When aren't you?" I challenged him to cross my arms. Right his precious case that's always way more important than his family. He sighed and was left speechless for a second. I could see in his eyes he was searching for something to say.

"Why are you doing this?" He asked. "What do you want me to do? I am here and I am trying."

"Yeah," I scoffed, "when you're forced too."

"I just got back and I am trying to make this work. Be here for you, protect you and yes, do my job. I can't just do it all." he tried to reason.

"She did." I dared. "But what? You're somehow more important?" I asked.

"Of course not" he said as I started to walk away. "Y/N...Listen, stop!" he called and I turned around to face him again. "You think it sucks just having me, I know but it's not just me. You have Gramps and Grams and Liam-"

"I needed you! August and I needed you!" I shouted and I can feel tears pressing against my eyes.

"Ok well we need to find a way to have a balance because when I get a call I have to go." he stated.

"Do you?" I challenged him. "Do you just have too? You can't just call up your boss and say 'oh oops i have to actually pay attention to my kids now'. We lost mom, then you left. I-I felt like I lost you too." I choked up at the end. A tear threatened to slide down my face but I quickly wiped it and looked away from dad.

"What do you want me to say?" he asked. I rolled my eyes and started to walk away "How can I fix this?"

"I don't know, the only person that could have fixed anything is gone!" I exclaimed. Dad swallowed and looked at me with a half angry, half sad expression.

"Get in the truck." he commanded and I did so slamming the car door behind me.

»»————-　★　————-««

I heard dad and grandma talking right outside my room so I decided to stand by my door frame and listen in. They were talking about August and I and Grams basically reiterated what I said this morning about dad being in Austin but not at home with us. She also mentioned the farmhouse that could be our new home.

"You already arranged the whole thing, didn't you?" dad asked grandma.

"Well I wanted you to put your own personal touches on it first" she responded and my dad chuckled.

"Mama," dad began, "It's a tricky time for me. I-I mean there's a task force I've been recommended for. It's down south and it's really important-" dad was cut off by August walking into the room. I entered my room and slammed the door. He's probably leaving again, I can't say I'm surprised though. He always put work over family.

»»————-　★　————-««

It was much later when someone knocked on my door.

"Come in" I said. I sat at my desk and doodled in my sketchbook. I never really liked doing very detailed art, just basic doodles. My door opened and August entered my room.

"Dad and I are sleeping in the farmhouse. Would you like to join?" he asked me

"No thank you." I grumbled and I heard August let out a sigh.

"You're so confusing." he huffed

"What do you mean?" I asked as I concentrated on my drawing.

"You always say Dad's never here but when he actually is, you're the one that avoids him."

"Well sorry if I don't want to get attached just to have him leave again."

"He's not leaving."

"Did you not hear him earlier? He got offered another case away from us." I started tracing the same circle over and over again on my paper. I concentrated on the circle getting darker to distract me from the tears trying to escape.

"He isn't taking the job." August insisted.

"Ok so say maybe he isn't taking this job, but he will take one eventually and leave us again, just like he always does." I pressed too hard on my paper that it tore. I ripped the page out of my sketchbook and tossed it in the trash can. I sniffed and started a new page.

"You alright?" he questioned.

"Yea," I lied, "Augie just go spend time with dad. Let it be a father son thing." I forced a smile and August nodded and left the room.

»»————-　★　————-««

I walked up to the farmhouse holding a blanket grandma gave me to bring up to Dad and August. I know what she's actually up to. She wants dad and I to talk. I opened the door and entered the house.

"Hey." Dad greets while looking towards me. August was sleeping on my couch next to him.

"Mawline told me to bring you this, which was super subtle." I said and dad offered up a smile. He took the blanket from me and draped it over August. "I heard you earlier." I told him referring to his conversation with Mawline about his job offer down south.

"Come on" he motioned for me to sit next to him on the couch. I sat on the floor beside the couch instead. I'm trying to not get too used to him being around because there will always be that fear of him leaving us for good in the back of my mind. I bit my lip nervously, not knowing if he is going to take that job makes me anxious.

"I am not going to that job." he affirmed.

"You might feel different in the morning." I said sadly.

"I am not going to feel different about you, and being here." He vowed which made me smile a bit.

"For now." I scoffed. Sometimes I feel like I am to blame for mom's death and that's the reason dad went away.

"I'm learning. Now's all we got." he said and I took a deep breath

"Do you think I could have saved mom?" I dared to ask "I mean when I heard the gunshot, If I went back, would have I been able to save her?" Dad was silent which had me terrified.

"Y/N, I can't tell you if you could or couldn't have saved her but I think," he paused for a moment, " you did everything you were supposed to that night. You did exactly what mom told you to do, which was always our number one rule for when you went out with her. If you went back, you'd probably have died too" he informed me. I sniffed, leaning further down the floor and resting my head on the couch cushion.

»»————-　★　————-««

#walker #cordell walker #jared paladecki #walker texas ranger #gen padalecki #emily walker #walker fan fiction #august walker #supernatural #Cordell x daughter!reader #micki ramirez #ddm

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ickle-ronniekins · 4 years

Text

breaking the rules

request from anon: Your writing is truly amazing!! I just read your fake dating with Georgie and I loved it!! I was wondering you would be up to writing a fake dating piece with Freddie?!☺️

word count: 6.9k sorry i keep getting carried away

A/N: ugh. my heart. i cannot deal. thank you all for being so kind, day after day, with each and every piece i write. and thank you, also, for being so patient. i know it’s taking me a while to sift through these requests. it means the world to me! love you all tons

tag list: @mintlibri @seppys-return-to-madness @how-do-life-does @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @semmelsemi @cottageoflove @laneygthememequeen @snakesonaplane-7 @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @bobduncanlover | message me if you’d like to be added lovelies!

“Hey, Y/N! Would you mind, for the sake of the entire team, to not be so bloody brilliant during every single match? You’re making us look bad.”

You smile, clutching the quaffle to your chest as you zoom rapidly through the air, leaving dust in your wake as you fly past the Slytherin team members, leaving them baffled and confused before they can fully register just exactly what’s going on. You hoist the quaffle through the hoop and hear a loud roar from the Gryffindor section; you must be up by a hundred points by now. You see Malfoy near the goal posts on the opposite side, looking positively murderous.

You make your way around the interior of the pitch, only to reply to Fred Weasley as you pass by, “I can try, but—don’t you want to win?”

A hearty laugh escapes his lips, and he’s pummeling bludgers left and right with his twin by his side. He wonders now, watching you, if Gryffindor would be as good as they are without you on the team. You’re probably one of the most talented Chasers Gryffindor has seen in years, he reckons. He knew it the first time he saw you mount a broom in a flying lesson your first year at Hogwarts. Since then, inseparable you two had been.

There’s a light, airy feel to the match, which is, to Fred’s surprise, nothing at all what he had expected this morning, especially with Slytherin being the opponent. But you seem to be more in rhythm with the wavelengths of this match than ever before, to the point where Harry is actually taking his time to try and find the snitch—he’s making Malfoy sweat it out a bit.

But when a nasty bludger smacks the end of your broom and you’re knocked to the ground, landing painfully on your arm, Madam Hooch begins shouting out punishments at the Slytherin beaters, McGonagall is rushing to your side with Madam Pomfrey, and Fred, George, and Harry are nearly kicking Malfoy into the ground when his sickeningly irritating mock laughter floats in the air between them.

— -

“Merlin—is a side effect of drinking too much Skele-Gro that you end up a bottomless pit?” you ask nobody in particular as you continue to shovel eggs, toast, bacon and sausage into your mouth. Next to you, George laughs and pats you on the shoulder.

“Glad to see you’re feeling better,” he tells you.

You peer over and smile—your bones in your arm are fully restored, but still in a sling; Madam Pomfrey had insisted. Across the table, Fred is looking rather sullen indeed.

“Brighten up, would you, Weasley?” you kick him playfully under the table and his stoic face breaks into a toothy smile. He’s feeling rather guilty, he is. Wasn’t able to stop the bludger in time. Neither was George. As if you’re reading his thoughts, you tell him, “It’s not your fault, you know.”

“Yeah,” he replies, stirring his spoon in his cup of tea. A bit too loudly, he continues, “Slimy Slytherin beaters—”

“Easy,” you say in a low voice, as the entirety of the Slytherin Quidditch team glances over at your table, and Fred’s gripping his fork tightly in his other hand. “Don’t need any more of us taken out of the next match, do we?”

Another safety measure of Madam Pomfrey’s. No Quidditch for a few weeks, at least. This means, of course, missing the next match: Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff. You’d tried to fight it, but when her mouth had formed into a thin line and she’d crossed her arms indignantly, you knew there was no changing her mind.

Why is it, Fred thinks to himself now, that Slytherins tend to get away with everything? The punishment of the two beaters was absolutely nothing like he’d expected—one detention each with Snape, who had basically grinned at the sight of your broken arm and shoulder. He’s so bloody tired of it, he wants to give them a taste of their own medicine. Perhaps, if he picks George’s brain, he can think of something—

His thoughts are interrupted when you kick him again under the table. “Hello—earth to Freddie?”

“Sorry,” he replies, biting into his toast, “what did you say?”

“I was saying—” you begin, and Fred notices his twin is now down a few seats talking with Ron and Ginny, leaving you two alone, “would you mind helping me pack up my bag after breakfast? It’s proving rather difficult with one arm since I have this sling across my other shoulder—”

Before you can finish, you both hear a group of Hufflepuffs from the table over discussing something animatedly. Fred catches bits and pieces of the conversation—he swears he hears ‘bludgers’ and ‘poor girl’ quite a few times. Before he knows it, they’re standing up and waltzing over to the Gryffindor table—more specifically, toward you.

“Oh bloody hell,” you mumble under your breath and look at Fred with wide eyes. You don’t need to say anything else for him to understand. Leading the pack of distraught looking Hufflepuffs is—Fred’s least favorite person in the entire world, and that’s including Malfoy—your ex boyfriend.

“Hey, Y/N,” he says awkwardly as he approaches the table at once before you and Fred are able to escape. He looks down at your shoulder and says in a tone Fred can’t decipher as sarcastic or genuine, “real sorry about your arm. Terrible thing those beaters did. Are you okay?”

With a slight eye roll from you and a laugh he tries very hard to suppress, Fred finds himself lost in his thoughts again. He’s transported almost immediately to the common room, to a very late Monday night after a very long detention with Professor McGonagall.

When he sprang through the portrait hole that evening, ready to divulge to you just exactly how he’d landed himself in detention the night you were both supposed to continue your weekly Monday traditions of exploding snap over small glasses of Butterbeer, he was a bit taken aback when he saw you crying in the corner, peering out of a window at the starry night sky. Immediately, his insides turned.

“Y/N?’ he asked when he finally reached you, nervous of how you were going to react to his very late arrival.

You sniffled a bit and wiped your tears away with your shirtsleeve. He felt surprised when you said softly, with no twinge of anger, “W-where’ve you been?”

“I’m so sorry,” he said, sitting across from you on the window ledge. He let his bag fall to his feet with a dull thump. “McGonagall caught Georgie and me right after class—I was dragged to immediate detention without being able to come back to the common room to tell you—I could use a good butterbeer right now..” but his voice trailed off when he noticed that you weren’t really listening. Your eyes were letting tears escape with no effort, and he spotted your hands trembling against your knees. You weren’t upset about the game of exploding snap. His heart sank into his chest when he realized this was something deeper. “Hey,” he said, placing a hand over yours, “are you okay?”

“H-he,” you started, and Fred could tell that you were embarrassed. You couldn’t even look him in the eye. “It’s over. He broke up with me.”

“W..what?” Fred asked, his hands suddenly felt extremely cold. He squeezed your knee and waited.

“He said he.. sees me as a friend,” you told him, and Fred shook his head in utter shock, “he doesn’t.. feel anything a-anymore. I think..” you continued, your voice slightly higher than before, “I think there’s s-someone else.”

You threw your head into your hands and began wailing. Fred had never, ever, ever seen you cry before, but he didn’t like it. He wanted to do everything in his power to make it stop, make you smile, make you happy.

“What a complete git,” he told you before pulling you into his arms. You were nearly on his lap. You rested your head on his chest and let out painful sobs for a few minutes while he thought, in a panicked state, of words to say. You’d always been tough. Independent. Happy-go-lucky. So to see you in this emotional, co-dependent, messy state—he felt strange. Off balance. It made his heart hurt.

“Hey,” he said after a few minutes once your tears seemed to slow, “how about we make you some tea, get you into some comfortable pyjamas, and then we can talk through it—how does that sound?” When he noticed you were about to argue after pointing to the butterbeer and cards on the table even though he knew you didn’t really want to play, he continued, “Nah—not really in the mood to get my arse kicked by you tonight.”

You laughed through a hiccup and squeezed his hand tightly before pulling his arms around you again. “First, can you—can you just stay here with me?”

He felt you tense up beside him and he knew that you were trying your hardest to fight back more tears rising to the surface. He pulled you closer to him and wrapped his arms tighter around you, enclosing you in the warmth from his own body.

“Okay then,” he replied and felt you relax beside him, “I can do that.”

“Maybe we can—we can talk it over.” Fred’s brought back to the present when he feels yet another light blow to his shin from you under the table. He blinks and looks into your eyes, which are wide, and he feels himself go weirdly alert.

“I don’t think so,” you say to your ex now, almost laughing a bit; he’s looking rather annoyed and stunned at being turned down. You swallow over a lump in your throat, “Besides, I’m—I’m seeing someone else, so, I think you’d better leave.”

“What?” he says breathlessly, almost looking heartbroken. Is he trying to mend his ways after watching you hit the ground with a loud splat! a few days ago? Fred’s insides turn. “Since when?”

“Since..a few weeks ago.” Fred can sense the panic in your voice as he watches your eyes shift from your ex to your breakfast plate and to him, a cherry red color flooding your cheeks and the tips of your ears. And without a second thought, you say, “Right, Fred?”

And Fred’s agreeing before he can fully digest your words, he’s nodding without breaking your gaze, he’s smirking at you without remembering there are other people around him. Finally, he looks up into the very baffled face of your ex boyfriend. “Yeah, we are—so—I’d bugger off if I were you, mate.”

“You two?” he asks, looking at Fred with what can only be described as pure anguish. “Together?”

“It’s time to go,” whispers another Hufflepuff, pulling the very distraught looking boy in front of you both back to their table before he can say anything else to you. Fred watches as he slumps in his seat and rubs his head, as if confused. Then, he turns back to you and raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, Freddie, I’m sorry!” you shake your head rather quickly and bring a hand to your mouth in shock. “I panicked, I just—he kept trying to ask me to grab lunch with him, I didn’t know what to say to get him to leave me alone, ‘m so mortified. We can just—pretend it never happened, you don’t have to do anything, I can just deal with whatever it is he has planned, it’s fine—”

“Hey.. take a breath,” he laughs and teases you before reaching across the table and squeezing your hand. “It’s fine, I get it. Besides,” he takes a quick bite of an apple and smirks at you, “I’m honored you chose me to be your fake boyfriend.”

“Well, you’re the only one here, silly.”

He pauses to consider this, and then says, “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that and tell you again how honored I am.” You laugh at this, and he grins cheekily at you as he continues, “I mean, imagine if you’d done that to George, he would’ve stumbled over his words—you know how he gets under pressure sometimes—gets flabbergasted, he does. You’re lucky ‘m quick on my feet.”

“Well then,” you reply, sipping your tea as Fred watches your nerves subside, “glad to have you along for the ride, Weasley.”

— -

It’s difficult watching the team’s practice. Fred had told you to maybe stay in, not watch, he’d fill you in later on your replacement. You’d insisted on coming anyway. But he was right.

They’re not completely out of sync—the third year Chaser they snatched up is pretty good for never having really played before. But if Fred’s being completely honest, he misses you on the pitch more than anything else. It’s just not the same without you.

You enter the Great Hall for dinner, and you’re so annoyed at doing everything one-armed that you nearly rip the sling right off of your shoulder, even though Madam Pomfrey had insisted on wearing it for two more days. Okay, maybe you did it a little too fast. “Ow,” you say, rotating your shoulder back and forth to stretch the muscles, as if they’d been asleep for months and months. You furrow your brow in pain.

Fred snorts before sipping his pumpkin juice. “How’d that feel?”

“Not the greatest,” you admit, taking a seat next to him.

Just then, he slings an arm around your shoulder and places a light kiss to your forehead, taking you by surprise. You turn to him with a raised eyebrow. He places his cup gingerly on the table. “Git sighting, on your right.”

You stealthily look on the other end of the Great Hall, your ex trying his best to look distracted, but there’s no chance in hell he didn’t see this exchange between you and Fred. Solemnly, he follows his fellow Hufflepuffs from the hall.

You both hadn’t even noticed George, Ron, and Harry take their places beside you at the table, eyes wide and faces flushed.

“When the bloody hell did this happen?” Ron nods at the two of you, shoving pork into his mouth.

“I’d like to think if my two best friends got together, they would’ve at least mentioned it to me—how long have you two been sneaking around?” George teases you with a wink.

Both you and Fred let hearty laughs escape your lips, as if to say, Sneaking around? You’re out of your mind, but instead, you both say, “We’re just faking.”

“Come again?” Ron and Harry chorus together.

“Faking—you know, Ronniekins, pretend.” Ron’s ears turn a bright scarlet color. “Just for fun. Y/N’s lovely ex bombarded her the other day after her injury, kept bugging her to grab a bite with him, so she very politely took me by surprise and told him, before consulting me, that we’re dating. Of course I obliged—being the lovely gent I am.”

“It did not happen like that—”

“You’re absolute rubbish at lying, you know.”

You throw your hands up in surrender, your face a nice light shade of rosy pink. “I panicked!”

“Precisely,” Fred and George say together. “And how long are you two planning on keeping this little scheme going for?” George asks.

You and Fred turn to each other. It is now revealed, Fred realizes as he watches as you peer into space, that you have no plan. He leans back in his seat, looking rather satisfied at the fact that you haven’t come up with any details at all. “I—I hadn’t thought of that. I just kind of.. went for it. I was acting on the very daring nerve that comes with being a Gryffindor!”

“Right you were,” says Fred through a mouthful of potatoes, “barely skipped a beat, she did. Reckon she couldn’t wait for it to happen—she nearly pounced on me right in front of him.”

The boys roar with raucous laughter. You roll your eyes and turn your attention to George, Ron, and Harry, who are now wiping away tears from their eyes. “You don’t really believe him, do you? This will not last long. Believe you me. It was purely a spur-of-the-moment adrenaline rush decision.”

“Hey, Y/N?”

You turn back to Fred and ask in a sweetly sarcastic tone, “Yes, Freddie?”

“I’m invoking a rule. No falling in love with one another.” He winks and bites into his chicken.

You scoff at him, while the others chuckle again. “Ah yes, darling—because that’s so very likely.”

— -

When Fred finds you sitting underneath a large oak tree in front of the castle, he laughs softly when he sees you in quite a frazzled looking state: your hair is in disarray from pulling at it, the bags under your eyes make it look like you haven’t slept in days, and he can almost feel the pain radiating from your tired muscles.

He sits down next to you in the grass and teases, “You’re quite a sight for sore eyes.”

“Oh, shove off,” you reply, not even looking up from your books. But after a few seconds of silence, the two of you fall into fits of laughter.

Fred nods at the books you’re so very immersed in. “What’s so important?”

“D’you think,” you begin, flipping the pages rapidly, “if I can find a spell that can produce a change in thought process on another human being, and somehow manage to stealthily pull it off and use it on Madam Pomfrey, she’ll change her mind and let me play in the next match?”

Fred cocks his head to the side, peering admirably at you, and smiles sweetly. “It doesn’t look very likely.”

“Ugh, I thought you’d say that.”

“But hey—there’s always obliviate,”

“Honestly, it’s getting to the point where I’m actually considering it.”

“Sure,” he says teasingly again, “I’d pay quite a lot of galleons to see you use any type of magic on a staff member, let alone something as dangerous as a memory charm.”

You cross your arms defiantly. “Don’t think I’ll do it?”

“No,” he smirks, “I know you won’t do it.”

You narrow your eyes at him and give in. Fred can’t help but laugh. “Okay, well—it would be really dangerous! But c’mon—I’ve gotten involved in a fair share of mischief with you and your brother; need I remind you of the time you landed me in detention my second year? A mere twelve year old, in detention…”

“Reckon that’s when you put this whole fake boyfriend thing into action, did you? When you fell for me all those years ago?”

“Ha-ha, you’re wickedly hilarious, Freddie.. seriously, funniest bloke I’ve ever met..” Your voice trails off when you notice something a few feet away, but Fred’s still thinking about how you called him the funniest person you know, even if it was in a sarcastic tone. But deep down, he knows you’re completely serious. He can feel his heart begin to soar a bit. His meandering mind is interrupted yet again by someone walking along the water’s edge—an unwanted visitor. Quickly, you shift yourself closer to Fred and say in a hushed voice, “Hurry—put your arm around me!”

He can’t help but stifle a laugh at your extremely flustered state. “Anything for my girl.”

You fit in so comfortably in his body that he doesn’t even notice how much time passes by. You spend the afternoon immersed in books, while Fred is resting against the tree, falling in and out of sleep with breaks to fix some malfunctions on some very small inventions of his and George’s. Each and every time he looks up, he notices the very curious looking ex boyfriend of yours watching you both, as if he’s trying his very hardest to prove that the two of you are just pretending. And each and every time Fred turns his attention back toward his inventions, he finds himself pulling you tighter and tighter into his arms.

— -

You and Fred are walking rather reluctantly through the corridors to your next class. If only you both had a free period, you’d be able to catch up on some work. But alas, here you both are, walking very, very slowly to Defense Against the Dark Arts.

“How’s the team holding up? I’m dying to get back out there with you.”

“Miss me that much, do you?”

You narrow your eyes and the unmistakable sound of mock laughter from Fred bounces off of the walls. “I miss Quidditch is what I mean. It’s killing me that I can’t join you lot—especially with the match just a week away.”

Fred smiles softly at you, feeling a twinge in his heart, knowing that you won’t be able to play, regardless of your completely healed shoulder. “I know. It’s killing us, too. But come the new year, you’ll—oi, bloody hell, does he just spend his time following us around, or something?”

Fred nods in the direction of the unwanted visitor yet again, and he grabs your hand quickly and continues to walk down the corridor, careful to avoid eye contact. That is, until he corners you both.

It’s not in a violent sort of way—but rather, curious. You’re both bracing yourselves for yet another attempt at getting you to rekindle things, when he takes Fred by surprise. “Why is it, Weasley, that whenever I see you two around, you very quickly grab her hand or sling your arm around her shoulder? What is this—just a ploy?”

“Come on,” you say to him softly, and Fred’s feeling very, very nervous that your facial expression will tell your ex everything he needs to know. “Leave us alone, would you? We’ve got class.”

“Prove it to me, then,” he says now, crossing his arms. “If you two’re really together, then kiss her.”

“What?” you both say aloud, flabbergasted. You look at Fred, who’s doing his very best to bite back a smile, and it’s becoming difficult to not laugh in your ex’s face.

He smirks at the both of you, his cronies surrounding him doing the same thing. Fred squares him up, and it’s easy to tower over him, Fred’s 6’3 frame swallowing him nearly whole. “I don’t think that’s such an odd request—kiss your girlfriend, Weasley, and I’ll leave you be.”

It’s obvious to the both of you, now, that he is basically waiting for you all to admit that yes, you’ve been faking, the entire time it hasn’t been real. You open your mouth to speak and Fred notices the panic in your eyes, the truth bubbling up inside you. So he does the only thing he can think of—he wraps his arms tightly around your waist, pulls you close to him, and presses his lips to yours.

You try very, very hard to hold back your surprise, because you’re extremely aware of the group of Hufflepuffs now watching you both share a kiss that is supposed to look like it happens all the time. You’re sure you’ve lost your voice now. His lips are soft, softer than they look, and Fred’s finding it difficult to remember why you two haven’t been doing this the entire time. He pulls away very, very slowly, hovering close to you with a cheeky grin on his face, before breaking completely and taking your hand in his again, squeezing tightly. Fred notices the scarlet color of your face now, turns back toward the stunned man in front of him, and replies, “Is that all? My girlfriend and I have class, if you don’t mind—”

You swiftly walk your way through the group and you and Fred nearly fly down the hallway, his face as red as his hair, his smile as bright as the sun, and you bring your hands to your lips and you swear you can feel the electricity surging through them, just as they had when Fred kissed you just a few seconds ago.

“You were going to tell him!” Fred’s laughing now, outside the entrance to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, but he can feel his heart thundering in his chest due to the heat of the moment. There’s nothing quite like an adrenaline rush. You reply, “He—he knows we’re lying!”

“Well, now he doesn’t,” Fred replies with a cheeky wink. “C’mon—I made you a deal, didn’t I? Couldn’t let that git get the last word. Now he’s got no bloody idea what’s going on.”

“How can I ever thank you?”

Fred swallows over a lump in his throat, peering deeply into your very bright eyes. He knows what he wants to say, and he’s about too, but something stops him. Something holds him back. Instead, he grins, shakes his head, and slings an arm across your shoulder, making sure to hold onto you just a little bit longer this time.

— -

Fred, George, Ron, and Harry are sitting in the library looking positively ghastly. Ron and Harry are very reluctantly working on a Divination essay that Hermione had finished a week ago, while the twins are racking their brains to finish this petty assignment from Snape.

You wander inside and Fred notices, for the first time in a few days, that your sling is back on your shoulder. Concern floods through his body. “Hey,” he says, immediately pulling you into his arms, “are you okay? Is it bothering you?”

You’re positively beaming—that’s the only way Fred can describe is. Your smile is quite bright, looking happier than you have in months, even with your arm in a sling. “Yeah,” you tell him sweetly, taking a seat next to him, “hurts a little. Probably just slept on it funny, or something.”

“Be careful,” he tells you, snaking an arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him, completely ignoring the assignment in front of him, “let me know if you need to go to the hospital wing, okay?”

You nod and begin to slowly pull spell books from your bag when you notice the others across the table, looking at you both with what can only be described as mischievous grins.

You and Fred look at each other, and then at them. Fred’s hand tightens around your waist. “What?” you ask together.

“You know he isn’t here, right?” Harry asks you both. George and Ron are focusing very hard on their parchments, and are not doing a very good job at stifling their laughter.

It’s almost immediate that Fred unwraps his arm from your waist, and your face is burning with color, and Fred’s insides are beginning to tighten due to embarrassment. But before he can speak and defend his actions, you speak up, “Oh, erm—could’ve sworn I saw him—must’ve been my eyes playing tricks on me, then. Anyway..”

The rest of the afternoon is spent in utter silence, recovering from that tiny slip up and moment of embarrassment. And one by one they leave—first Harry, then Ron, and then George—who, by the looks of it, is nowhere near done with his assignment—but he claims he has somewhere he needs to be, and vanishes through the doors of the library before either you or Fred can do anything.

About an hour later, you ask Fred, “Could Snape be any more vile? Why did he assign this stupid essay again?”

Fred laughs softly, “because some Ravenclaw started insulting his teaching methods in the middle of the lesson—remember?”

“Oh yeah,” you say, the memory coming back to you now. Brightly, you say, “Hey—want to get back at that Ravenclaw and plan some elaborate type of prank to make this whole assignment just a little bit more bearable?”

Fred turns toward you with a surprised expression on his face. He smirks and shakes his head in admiration, “I think I’m becoming a bad influence on you.”

You bat your eyelashes at him and say, “Maybe. Would that be such an awful thing?”

And then he pulls you nearly all the way into his lap, begins tickling you and poking you in the ribs, and you begin to flail in his arms and laugh hysterically, when Madam Pince angrily shushes you from the other end of the library. You flip your hair out of your eyes and regain your composure, and Fred is suddenly very aware that you’re still seated in his lap, your face only inches from his, the bright color of your eyes sparkling in the sun flooding in from the windows. Right. You’re not actually technically together. He swallows thickly and watches as you bite down on your lip. You’re both about to say something, hearts thundering loudly in your chest, when suddenly you break the silence and slide yourself off of him, back into your seat and say, “We’d better head to the feast, Freddie. Don’t want to be late.”

— -

“Anyone fancy a game of exploding snap before bed?”

Ron’s sitting in the middle of the huddle, finishing the last of his dessert from the feast, while everyone around him is slumped in their seats looking positively exhausted.

George says sleepily, “Can’t mate—we’ve got a late night practice tonight.”

“D’you think Angelina will give me a beating if I just sleep through it?” Fred asks nobody in particular, his eyes closed.

“Yes,” you, Harry, George, Ginny and Hermione say together.

“Oh fine, you lot are out,” Ron waves his hand in the direction of the Quidditch players and then glances excitedly at you, Ginny, and Hermione. “Ladies? Anyone? Feeling kind of lucky this evening.”

Ginny snorts at this. “You? Lucky? Luck would be me not absolutely obliterating you in a game—not you winning. That’d be a miracle.” Her older brothers chuckle quite animatedly at this comment; it’s certainly woken them up a bit.

You grin at Ginny and then say to her very angry and embarrassed looking brother, “What she means to say, Ron, is that we’re all kind of exhausted due to lack of sleep, because someone—” you shoot a glance toward another Gryffindor girl on the other end of the Great Hall, “—put an amplifying charm on some Muggle contraption of hers last night, music kept us up till nearly dawn.”

Ron turns back toward his brothers now, looking confused. “No way you could’ve heard that from the girls dormitory, or Harry and I would’ve been up all night, too! So why are you two so bloody exhausted?”

“Usual mischief,” Fred and George chorus together, winking at the youngest male Weasley.

Ginny picks up her bag and says to the group, “I’m heading to bed. You two coming?” she glances at you and Hermione.

You glance back and forth between Ginny and Fred and bite your lip. You’re absolutely knackered, but you wonder whether you should go to practice, just to be there, just to watch, just to show you’re still devoted. Fred picks up on this and shakes his head. “You’re tired—go to bed. Promise you’re not missing much. Reckon we’ll all be rubbish due to exhaustion, anyway.”

“Okay,” you finally reply, albeit begrudgingly. Fred places a quick kiss to your cheek, the group stifles laughter, and you, Hermione, and an extremely baffled Ginny make your way upstairs to the common room, leaving the boys to their jokes in the very crowded Great Hall.

When you enter through the portrait hole, Hermione wishes you both a good evening before heading up the stairs. This leaves you and Ginny alone in a completely desolate common room. You remove your shoes and stand across from the fire, letting the warmth of the flames radiate through your body, when Ginny clears her throat.

“Care to tell me what’s going on between you and my older brother?” she says cheekily, grinning at you. She so very much resembles all of her siblings.

You laugh softly, running a hand through your hair and stretching your arms behind your head. “I thought Ron would’ve told you.. It’s nothing, Ginny. Promise. We’re just pretending. My ex has been strangely remorseful about the breakup lately, trying to get me to talk to him and what not—Fred’s just helping me out a bit.”

“By pretending to date you?”

“Yeah..” you say a bit guiltily now. “Yeah, it sort of happened in a moment of panic. Don’t worry, though. None of it’s real. Just till it gets the other one out of my way—then we’ll go back to normal.” You turn back to face the fire and it suddenly feels much, much hotter than before.

“But this is the normal you actually want, isn’t it?”

This takes you by surprise. You turn back slowly, now facing Ginny, and she’s wearing a genuine grin. “I—I dunno what you’re talking about.”

“I’ve watched Fred and George for years,” Ginny tells you, “admiring their recklessness and rebellion—but in turn, this also means I see who they get on with.”

“Meaning?”

She smiles softly, looking a little sulky actually, which is so very unlike Ginny. And she confides in you, and she’s acting very vulnerable which makes your heart soar, “I’d give anything for Harry to look at me the way you look at Fred.”

You swallow over a lump in your throat, and Ginny can easily sense your nervousness. She reaches out and places a gentle hand on your shoulder. In a very hoarse, soft voice, as if your vocal chords have been strained, you plead, “Please, please don’t tell him.”

She doesn’t respond to this exactly, but you know she’ll keep her lips sealed. She asks, “How long?”

“I—I dunno,” you tell her truthfully. You bite your lip to keep your heart jumping out of your throat, “over time, I suppose.” You continue to tell her of how everything unfolded, how Fred had jokingly told you to not develop feelings for him, how he’d kissed you that one day in the corridor.

There’s a few moments of silence between you both, but there’s nothing uncomfortable about it. In fact, it’s the most comfortable you’ve ever been with one another—secretly longing for the boys who don’t seem to look at you both the way you so deeply yearn. Finally, Ginny breaks the tension and says, “Your secret is safe with me. Just be careful, okay? I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

Is this her way of telling you that Fred doesn’t feel the same way as you? That these feelings you have for him are a hundred percent one sided and are not at all reciprocated? It’s as if she’s reading your thoughts, because she tells you, “I’ve no idea how he feels—he doesn’t tell me anything at all, real git that he is,” you both laugh at this exchange, and Ginny echoes herself, “Just be careful.”

“I will,” you reply, now realizing that she’s has given you quite a lot to think about, “Thanks, Gin.”

— -

Fred’s feeling positively blue, if you will. He’s standing smack in the middle of the corridor in his Quidditch robes after a truly rubbish weekend practice, staring at the spot you were just standing. It’s like you’re still there, he can still smell your perfume, but he reckons you’ve probably already made it back to the common room by now.

Just then, he feels a hand on his shoulder. He jumps in surprise, and turns around only to be face to face with George and Ginny, who laugh at his skittishness.

“You alright, mate? Coming to the Great Hall?”

“Yeah.” Fred’s voice sounds vastly different in his own ears; it’s hoarse and broken, and he doesn’t understand why. He coughs a bit, and then echoes himself, “Yeah,” except he doesn’t believe it, and neither do his siblings.

George stops bouncing his broomstick between his hands at once. He looks once at Ginny and then back at Fred as the corridor begins to fill with students, “What’s going on?”

“Sh-she ended it,” he replies, and the words feel foreign in his mouth.

“Who, Y/N? The.. fake thing?” George asks, lowering his voice. “Maybe the git is finally leaving her be.”

“No, that’s not it. She wouldn’t tell me. She was.. weirdly quiet. She told me that she was worried things are going to get messy and she’s afraid rules are being broken on her end.. has she said anything to either of you? What is she even talking about?”

George responds quickly with a, “No, nothing,” whereas Ginny hesitates a bit, and then responds, “No, Freddie. She hasn’t.” But Fred can sense that his little sister isn’t giving him all of the info. Had she talked to you? Does she know what’s going on? Then George nudges his brother and asks a bit cheekily, “Does this make you upset?”

“No, no, of course not!” Fred says a bit aggressively, but both of his siblings just cock their heads to the side, as if to say, Really, Freddie, we can see right through you. “I—I mean—I just.. thought we were having a bit of fun.”

“Yeah,” George begins, while Ginny remains quiet by his side, “okay, you were having fun, but.. what I’m asking you, Fred, is—do you maybe want to be with her for real? And that’s why you’re upset?”

When Fred doesn’t answer, Ginny finds her voice. “We know, Fred.”

“Know what?”

George and Ginny say together, “That you fancy her.”

Fred runs a hand through his hair. He’s feeling aggravated now—he doesn’t like when his mind and thoughts get picked apart by people closest to him, especially when he’s trying on his own to piece together exactly how he feels. But he comes to realize, as his heart begins to beat faster when he thinks of you, that his siblings are right. He’s felt this way for a very, very long time.

Without showing just how much he really feels for you, Fred tells them, “Yeah, erm, okay, I—maybe I have some.. feelings,” he says through gritted teeth and George can’t help but stifle a laugh at his twin’s nervousness. Fred punches him in the arm. “But she kept saying that she’s breaking rules—but what rules? I haven’t the foggiest what she’s on about! I don’t even know if she feels the same way!”

“Fred,” Ginny says quietly, “you jokingly made one rule with her when you two began this whole ridiculous stunt.” When Fred just looks at his sister quizzically, wondering what the bloody hell she’s on about, she opts to continue, “you told her you’re not allowed to fall for one another.”

Realization hits Fred like a ton of bricks, George throws his hands up in confusion, and Ginny pushes on Fred’s chest and grins cheekily at her older brother, leaving poor George baffled beyond belief at this secret language his other two siblings seem to have. Ginny nods in the direction of the common room, “Just go get her already, would you?”

And Fred’s flying through the corridors and up the stairs, he’s pushing past students and professors alike, he’s running hands through his messy, windswept hair and he’s climbing through the portrait hole, only to find you sitting on the ledge near the window looking out at the stars, just as you had all those long months ago when he found you crying.

“Hey, Freddie,” you say when you turn to face him. “Everything okay?”

He doesn’t answer—he pushes past the desks and chairs blocking him from you and does the one and only thing he wants to do, the only thing he’s ever wanted to do for as long as he can remember now—he scoops you up into his arms, presses his forehead to yours, and kisses you. For real, this time.

Your surprise is overridden by the slight, exasperated moan that escapes your lips before you wrap your hands around the back of his neck. His fingers are dancing across your hip bones and then make their way up your back and into your hair. He kisses you once, twice, three more times before fully breaking, and hovers close to you again before pulling away completely to see the sparkle in your eyes, the bright smile plastered across your face.

As you push down any nervousness rising to the surface with a quick swallow, you say, “So.. where’ve you been?”

Fred laughs haughtily now, remembering that time all those few months ago when you’d said the exact same thing in a completely different context. He’s finding it beyond difficult to not kiss you into oblivion right now, especially as you bite on your bottom lip to try and suppress a very large grin.

“Sorry, love, I got tied up with my thoughts—but I can stay here with you now.”

He pulls you into a tight embrace before his lips find yours again. You can both hear voices outside the portrait whole. It’s obvious to you now that you have mere seconds before your alone time will be so very rudely interrupted by fellow Gryffindors.

“I broke the rules,” you tell him with slight tears in your eyes, playing with the baby fine hairs at the nape of his neck.

“Me too,” he admits breathlessly, swiping his thumb across your cheek. “I broke them a long time ago.” His heart begins to thunder inside of his chest at the feeling of your lips forming a smile against his, and he’s almost positive you can hear it—but he doesn’t care. He wants you to know you get his heart racing—more than pranking, more than firewhisky, more than Quidditch—more than anything or anyone in the entire world. He continues after another small kiss, “I reckon some rules are meant to be broken, though, aren’t they?”

reblogs & feedback are always appreciated, darlings. thank you for reading and requesting, much love x

#fred weasley #george weasley #fred and george weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley reader insert #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fanfic #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #fred weasley imagine #weasley twins #weasley twins imagine #hp imagine #fake dating tropes #ron weasley #ginny weasley #harry potter #hermione granger

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welllpthisishappening · 4 years

Text

falling feels like flying ['til the bone crush]

Someone should revoke her title.

They’re trying, Emma supposes. Inevitable death probably means people can’t call her savior anymore, but they shouldn’t call her that now and that’s almost entirely because of what an absolute and complete liar she is. Telling Killian she would have done the same after he admitted he didn’t get rid of the shears isn’t her most massive lie, although it might be her most ridiculous. And they both know it’s not true. She wouldn’t do the same thing, she has. More than once.

AN: That gif has nothing to do with the story! Here is approximately 3.5K where I once again force Emma and Killian to acknowledge their trauma. Not in the Underworld this time, though! So maybe we’re all evolving here. I blame this gif set, which I saw this morning and felt compelled to write something about. Maybe that evolution is also a lie, actually.

———

“I lied.” Killian hums, exhaustion clinging to the sound, and Emma understands that. Less so why she’s talking right now, but neither one of those words seemed particularly interested in preserving the quiet calm of this particular moment, and she’s never been a lightweight quite like this. In more ways than one, she supposes. Hazy thoughts drift through her brain, muddled as it is by buttered rum and the steady flicker of flames in the fireplace because naturally this is the sort of house that has multiple fireplaces, and she burrows her face closer.

To Killian’s chest.

Takes a deep breath, not quite slow, but maybe a little greedy, and they ordered both things. Pizza and Chinese, half-finished egg rolls and beheaded slices of cheese with extra peppers strewn across the coffee table because Emma always likes that extra bit of crust and Killian’s nothing if not a frustratingly endearing sort of pushover.

With her, especially.

She closes her eyes.

“I lied,” Emma repeats, “in the hospital, I mean. Wrong verb tense.” “You’re not making any sense at all, darling.”

Her nose must be cold — if the way Killian tenses as soon as it brushes his skin is any indication, but Emma knows it’s far more than that and far deeper than that and she might be the world’s biggest idiot. Looming death does that to a person, she supposes.

Breathing isn’t particularly easy. And that’s not only because she ate four pizza slices worth of crust. Still, using death as an excuse again seems like an emotional crutch and an unreasonable reason, her muddled mind capable of clinging to every single letter in that particular endearment. It might be her favorite.

She’s not sure she’s ever told him that.

Stupid, really.

“I told you that I get it; what you did today, and that part’s definitely true. But, uh, the rest of it. That I would have done the same thing? Total lie, right? I mean, I did it. That’s what happened.” Nothing. Just flickering flames and the quiet hum of a TV, neither one of them has been interested in actually watching all night. Emma doesn’t even know what channel they’re on. For all she knows, the remote’s in the kitchen.

She counts inhales. Tries to keep her exhales measured, most of her face still pressed into the collar of Killian’s shirt as it is. And it takes about five full seconds before his hand moves, starts tracing a calm line up her spine, following that path until he reaches the base of her neck and the goosebumps that have already exploded on her skin and oxygen is overrated anyway. Holding her breath as soon as his fingers card through the ends of hair is basically instinct at this point.

“Felt wrong to point that out at the time,” he mutters, “all things considered.” “Been kind of a long day.” “Reuniting with long-lost relatives will do that.” Scoffing is not the best reaction. Nothing about this is funny. Includes far too much death and dismay, and Emma’s gaze flickers up. Of its own accord and something much deeper, like the absolute refusal to accept a world where he does not exist.

Goddamn Captain Hook.

She loves him so much sometimes she thinks she’ll simply burst with the force of it all.

It’s a gross thought, honestly.

And they’ve already spent far too much time in the hospital today.

“Is he ok? Li—” Cutting herself off, Emma grits her teeth, but one side of Killian’s mouth is already tugging up, and the kiss that lands on her forehead is as soft as anything. Maybe bursting isn’t so bad, actually. So long as she can come up with another word for it. “God, that’s so weird.” Killian hums. “Indeed.” “Thoughts, feelings, et cetera?” “Vast. And none of them particularly pleasant.” “Seems fair. That sort of day, huh?” “Indeed.” They need more blankets. Need more things that are theirs in a collective sort of way, but that’s a dangerous and disingenuous train of thought, and Emma’s fingers twitch towards the fire. To ward off the sudden chill that’s settled between her shoulder blades, and it almost works, but it does absolutely nothing to help the sway of her stomach and the acid lingering in the back of her throat, threatening to burn far more than what these meager flames are able to do.

“Should have finished high school,” Emma mumbles, “then I could choose more accurate verb tenses from my inevitably vast vocabulary. Did. Have done. Would do again, several thousand times over.”

“That’s the future tense.” None of his words come with any kind of pointed emotion, but Emma hears it all the same. Can see the tightness that lingers in the corners of his mouth and the way he’s holding his shoulders, straight as a line, and some joke about rigging that she no intention of making, and the furrow between his brows makes every muscle in her chest twist. Ache too, for good measure.

With the promise of everything she wants to say and everything she hasn’t or can’t and—

Fuck magic, quite honestly. And the rules no one’s bothered to mention until now. Seems like poor planning on everybody’s part.

“You heard me.” “I did,” Killian agrees lightly, and his hand has never actually stopped moving. It’s nice. Steady. Something Emma can almost nearly time her breathing too. “I would also choose that particular tense. If given the choice, that is.” “Do you not think you have that?” “I don’t particularly enjoy the thought. I’m rather partial to the option of whim, you see. Pirate and all that. We don’t much abide by schedules and fated decision.” “Seems like it’d be in the by-laws.” “Well, by-laws by their very nature are rather contradictory to the entire pirate notion, but you’ve got the gist of it at least.” Emma laughs. Doesn’t quite regret the sound, even as out of place as it is — just presses it into the edge of Killian’s shirt and the buttons he never bothers to do, trying to brandh the smell of him and the feel of him into every corner of her memory and she’s not really sure what happens after. Once the prophecy is fulfilled, and all that.

She’s got too much unfinished business.

To totally leave this particular plane of reality.

She doesn’t mention that either. Not when the crux of that business is breathing steadily under her hand, and Emma can’t remember when she moved her hand, only that Killian’s warm under her touch, and he’s always so much warmer. Than just about anything else she’s aware of.

“I thought you were dead.”

Of all the things Emma expects to happen in the midst of this night and this moment — and it’s really not a very long list, admittedly — that did not even make the cut. Wasn’t a consideration or a fledgling idea in the back of her mind, several different vertebrae almost audibly objecting when she jerks her head up. To find Killian staring straight ahead, lips not much more than a thin line across his face.

Seriously, the rigging jokes almost write themselves. Which is more than Emma can say about her clearly piece of shit list, as metaphorical as it might be.

“I don’t—” “—When I saw you,” Killian interrupts, and none of the words shake. Come out like a stream of consciousness and memories neither one of them have able to shake yet. Or talk about. Can’t possibly be healthy. “Chained to that stone, blood dripping into my mouth, and then all of a sudden, there you were. Worried I’d simply dreamt you up, couldn’t imagine how you looked quite that lovely in that hell hole, otherwise.” “Oh, that’s kind of insulting, actually.” “Hair like the bloody sun.” “Better,” Emma murmurs. Reaching up, her fingers tangle with the charms around his neck. Pieces of luck and trinkets she hasn’t learned all the stories to yet. The idea that she won’t makes her nauseous. “You told me ‘you shouldn’t be here.’” “Aye, and I meant it.” “Because you thought…” “Living people don’t often appear in such a God awful place, do they? Not without something tragic happening, and my mind was impressively efficient on that front.” “Which one is that?” “Every threat that’s ever lingered, every person I would have gladly run through if it meant you were safe. Half of goddamn Camelot.” Emma might snicker. Killian’s arm tightens, though. And that’s all she’s really worried about. “I think I could have taken Arthur. Y’know if it had come to that.” “Likely not a very good swordsman,” Killian nods, but that’s only so his lips can trace Emma’s temple and the top of her hair. More than once. Like he’s still making sure. “Pampered prince—” “—He was totally a king, babe. That’s like...the most basic Camelot knowledge.” “Ask me in five minutes if I care at all about anything to do with Camelot.” “Should I time it, or…” He scoffs. Presses another half dozen kisses to any spot he can reach, and he can actually reach a fair amount of places. Emma’s impressed. Swooning too, but also pretty impressed. “I kept thinking about you,” Killian says, softer than the last few words have been, and it sounds like an admission and another promise, and it’s weird that it can be both. At the same time. “This house. What it was and wasn’t. All those possible verb tenses.”

“I’m sorry.” “Ah, that’s not your fault, love. None of this is, really, but—well, it did make it so seeing you, realizing you were there...left all of those thoughts crashing down around my ears, so to speak. Falling apart, like an avalanche of what hadn’t been and what I still wanted so desperately. No matter what Hades did.” “Stupid stubborn.” “I believe there’s something about a pot and a kettle in this realm.” “Don’t have that cliche in the Enchanted Forest, huh?” “Not that I’m aware of, no.” “Maybe you just didn’t go to a good college.” “Tell me every Greek word you know,” Killian challenges, and Emma rolls her eyes. Ignores the first few flutters of a headache brewing at the base of her skull. “It didn’t seem fair.” “Which part?” “All of it is also rather vast, but mostly that if you were there, then it happened again.” Narrowing her eyes, Emma tries to piece together those letters and the syllables they make, only to be marginally annoyed when she can’t make sense of them. Killian kisses the bridge of her nose.

She might have to go get Tylenol soon.

“Losing you without fighting, without challenge the goddamn reaper myself, was worse than anything He could have done,” Killian continues, and he doesn’t have to be more specific. “Worse than whatever pain I’ve ever suffered. Cut off twenty more limbs; it wouldn’t even come close.” “Do you have that many?” “Your humor lacks a little something; you know that, Swan?” “It’s a defense mechanism.” He noses at her hair. Drags the soft hum of what could very well be either an agreement or the opposite, or maybe even the sort of deep-rooted understanding that’s allowed him to sneak his way into the center of everything, across her skin. The specifics don’t matter, only that Emma’s magic roars under her skin, an inferno, and a symphony, meeting the challenge that no one has really laid down yet.

“Do that again,” Killian mutters, a low chuckle as Emma’s scratches at his side.

“I’m not sure I can, honestly.” “Pity.” “Something like that, yeah. And you’re not totally right, you know?” “Ah, and that’s almost rude.” “I’m serious,” Emma says, “that’s—none of that was your fault either.” Tilting his head only ensures that several strands of hair he still hasn’t bothered to cut fall almost artfully across his forehead, and Emma is grateful to a variety of gods, Greek or otherwise, that Killian doesn’t mention how much her hand shakes. When she tries to brushes them away. His hook finds her wrist instead, cool metal against freezing cold skin, and the state of her tongue is going to be a problem. Large as it is in Emma’s mouth, making it all but impossible to properly swallow while Killian’s lips sweep the bend of her knuckles.

“Charmer.” “Aye, that’s my endgame.” There’s not enough room between them for him to run his hand across his face like Emma knows he wants to, and part of that isn’t really a bad thing, but the rest just seems like another entirely unfair thing, and Emma knows the rest is coming. Makes tears burn her eyes all the same. “They were just...gone, you understand? No chance to do anything about it. One moment they were living and breathing. Then Liam was dead. Slumped in my arms in the corner of a cabin he was supposed to spend the rest of his career in. He—he would have been a very good captain.” “So are you,” Emma says, fierce and determined, and Killian kisses in the inside of her palm. She’s moved her hand again. To cup his cheek.

“For a time, maybe. But then she was gone too, and I thought I could feel it, you know. The exact way her heart crumbled in his hand, tiny bits of dust that I never wanted to blow off the deck. Like some of her still managed to stay. Is that—” The muscles in his throat move, jaw clenching, and Emma has to blink. She hopes the moisture on her cheeks isn’t tears. She’s not sure what’s a better option, really. “Must sound daft.” “No. I—I get that too.” “Do you?” “Not the only one who’s watched Rumplestilskin hold the heart of someone you loved.”

He can’t be holding his breath. His chest is moving much too quickly, but the burst of air that all but flies out of Killian is enough to ruffle the ends of Emma’s hair and possibly even dry some of the tears she’s still refusing to acknowledge, and she can’t get closer to him.

She makes an admirable effort all the same.

Like occupying the same few inches of space will ensure that she stays there.

“Did you—” Killian starts, looking almost pained as the words war for his voice on the tip of his tongue. “Did you like her?” That didn’t make the list, either. It’s entirely possible that Emma is just garbage at making lists. She nods. “Anyone who loves you as much as I do is fine with me. Better than, even.”

His expression shifts again. Light lingers in his gaze, cautious hope, and misplaced optimism, gears whirring in his head that Emma can’t almost convince herself she hears. Her verb tense was on purpose that time.

That’s a confidence boost, all things considered.

“She was something fierce,” Killian says, sounding reminiscent and not as sad as Emma has worried he must be. “Once she got away from him. Could get a grown man to do her bidding with a single look, the kind of glare that’d set you on fire from the inside out. It was—they loved her too. Men on the ship, would have followed her to the ends of the Earth if she’d asked. Probably even if she hadn’t.”

His next inhale becomes an exhale almost immediately.

“She never would have asked,” Killian adds, almost entirely to himself, but then his eyes are back on Emma, and they’re a little glossy and just as blue and she’s holding her breath now. “She liked you too, I know it.” “I think she thought I was crazy, actually. Gold didn’t really have much tact in the...introductions.” “Ah.” “Right?” “Right,” he echoes, a pale imitation of her voice that makes Emma’s cheeks ache. From smiling. Legitimately smiling. Huh. “But I suppose that’s part of it, though. She was there again, and I—” “—I’m sorry. For...for all of it.” “Still not your fault, love.”

“How did you know?” she asks, and her voice doesn’t sound much like her either. Wobbles and warbles and some other word that fits the alliteration. “About me. And not being…”

“Dead?” Killian’s eyebrows jump. “Strawberries.” “Excuse me?” “That soap you use in your hair. Smells like strawberries, or strawberry adjacent maybe. Manufactured just a bit. I think it’s my favorite smell in the world.” “Backhanded compliment.” “No, no,” Killian shakes his head. His hair moves again. “It’s not. It’s—well, it’s you, love. Smells like everything that you are and—”

“—I’m manufactured?” “If you let me finish,” he chides, and Emma all but yanks her lips behind her teeth, “It smells like home. Smells like falling asleep next to you and a distinct lack of blankets.” He nips at the tip of her nose. She scoffs again; that’s why. “And your distractingly cold feet, and leather jackets, and how the smell clings to the collars, no matter how long it’s been since you’ve worn them. Lingers on your pillow too, and the fronts of my shirt. You fall asleep against me quite often, you know that.” “Can sleep anywhere,” Emma reasons. “Might be my greatest talent.” “I don’t know about that.” “If I call you charmer again, will you hold it against me for lack of synonyms?” “Tell me how charming I am again.” Emma scrunches her nose. “Now it sounds like my dad.” “Let’s leave the prince out of this. He’s only a prince, aye?” “Far as I know, yeah.” “Good, good. Strawberries, love. Touching you helped too, though. If we’re being frank.” “Anything except blunt force honesty seems silly now, doesn’t it?” Killian nods. Slow and measured, like anything else will snap this tenuous peace, and maybe they can just sleep on the couch. Getting up is an impossible prospect right now. Maybe they can make out a little before they fall asleep.

“It’s a very big house,” Emma whispers, and they should really figure out a schedule for conversations like this. Talking about it all at once is exhausting.

“It is.” “You don’t want to expand upon that?” “Oh, I want a great number of things I shouldn’t,” Killian admits, “but as much as I appreciate this fresh round of honesty we’re engaging in, the false hope would—” “—There’s no such thing,” Emma interrupts. “False hope. It’s an oxymoron, ask my mother. And I think you should get some sort of crew again.” “How would you suggest I populate such a thing?” She shrugs. Nearly hits Killian in the chin in the process. “Untold stories. Dwarves.” “I will not have dwarves on my ship.” “See, I knew you’d have opinions. And there was a possessive pronoun in there that time.” “Was there not before?” “No,” she says. “Just called it the ship. Like it’s not the most important thing you have.” “Well, it’s not.” Emma’s cheeks warm. “That was very smooth.” “Someone did guarantee I was a very good captain earlier.” Space continues to be relatively minimal between them, but Killian’s nothing if not adaptable, and he works with what he’s got. Swinging Emma’s legs perpendicular over his, she’s nearly sitting on his lap, an arm slung over his shoulders, which makes it even easier to get her fingers into his hair and his head to rest against hers, and he takes another deep breath. “I know you understand, Emma,” he says, soft and serious, and she doesn’t bother doing anything except cling to him. With everything she’s got left. “All of it, from the very start. So I don’t think I’ll apologize, actually. For what I’ve done, or what I’d still be willing to do. I won’t give up on you, do you understand me?” “Didn’t,” Emma says, only a little optimistic that’s the right verb tense. Maybe she can get her GED, or something. Before all of this ends. “In Camelot, or after. Accept or acknowledge, and I probably would have—”

Announcing that killing Gold for what he’d done to Killian regularly crossed her mind in the twenty-four hours or so before they finally made it to the Underworld doesn’t really have the right sentiment for this conversation. Far too violent, and just as honest.

She’d consider killing him now, too.

For everything he’s doing, and everything he hasn’t, and she should have shoved him in that river.

Killian doesn’t smile. At least not in a way that reaches his eyes, the same ones that are looking at Emma again, all blue and earnest, and his shoulders shift. When her fingers graze his chin, more than stubble there because, she imagines, spending a day or so underwater with a sibling he only sort of wants and kind of knows doesn’t leave much time for facial-type grooming.

It’s a good look, though.

Most of them are, in Emma’s experience.

“This entire time,” she continues, “you haven’t given up on me yet.” “Works both ways, darling.” “That one crosses realms, huh?” “Pick up things spending so much time with you.” There’s nothing extra in the words. No sap-filled sentiment or promises she’s only a little hopeful will become actions. And they haven’t talked about the rest; might not even have time, but Emma will let herself think about all these empty rooms anyway, of the exact shade Killian’s eyes go when he stands at the helm, and she hopes he doesn’t cut his hair. Not yet, at least. Longer strands make it easier to touch him, to leave a lasting mark, and settle into his center the same way he’s taken root in hers.

They fall asleep on the couch.

#cs ff #captain swan #cs fic #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #laura writes canon #force characters to talk 2k4ever #also remember when i wanted to write about killian not getting to see milah in the underworld?#have some of that here too #just for fun

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dreamylyfe-x · 3 years

Note

Woah boy here we go ok. I need to tell you about my feelings for Bound. Which I have been meaning to do for literal weeks, but I read it so quickly the first time I wanted to give myself a slower second read through in the hopes that it would help me form some manner of coherent thoughts to offer you about why it is so brilliant.

I regret however that that strategy does not seem to have worked. I started a little notes doc with thoughts for each chapter and it began with full sentences but then as I went on and got more pulled into just reading the story the sentences turned into mere collections of words and then single word exclamations. The last note I have is jaaaaamiiiiiiieeeeeee!!!! And after that I gave up the pretense of taking notes at all and just let myself devour.

I think it is perfect?? Perhaps it is a perfect piece of writing???

From the outset, the very beginning of the prologue it is so visceral. Your descriptions of feelings are so physical, that the whole time one of them is in pain, I also feel that I am in pain. And so I feel like I have spent quite a lot of the story in pain, but the phenomenon of that makes me feel that I am so closely connected to both Ian and Mickey and I love it. And likewise when they are feeling joy or desire or relief. God the relief! It starts in that first reunion they have at the Kash and Grab after the gun incident, every second of that is filled with this wonderful release of physical tension, and then it simply escalates from there. I can't begin to describe how effectively you manage to convey the experience of having an emotion as part of your physical body, and how that is heightened by the soul bond aspect of the whole thing. Incredible.

What else? The world building! Heavens. I have read not that many soulmate AUs, but in terms of creating and explaining the rules of this adjacent universe where soulmates exist and endowing it with history and prejudice and letting that all just bleed into and across the story, you have eclipsed every single one. I totally buy into this parallel history and the nuances of opinions and variety of bond experiences and antiquated terms for gay bonds, it's all a very rich tapestry and I think you've done an excellent job of weaving it.

I am so here for a story that follows the canon without exactly recreating it. There are so many moments where you can pick out specifics from the show that are reflected or echoed, but are in a different context or setting, and yet manage to create that same feeling. And it's great because it's like a little easter egg, a little hit of recognition, but also is original in its form and serves its own purpose within your story. It connects us to Shameless without binding us into it and it is very deft and I enjoy it immensely.

We also have to talk about characterisation. Which. I actually don't know if I can talk about at all eloquently but you have to know that I am enamored with it. Ian and Mickey, but equally MANDY my beloved, who is sharp and brutal but also caring and so willing to help. I really like Ryan, I feel like you totally have that guy's voice, even though we knew him for only a few short moments, and I like that you made him not at all a predator. These kids need some adult advice once in a while! Which leads me onto Veronica. Best Aunty I love her, she is perfect.

But mostly I am just in awe of how you have written these versions of Ian and Mickey who feel so true to who I know them to be. I appreciate so much this Mickey who is accepting of his feelings for and connection to Ian from so early on, but that you haven't transformed him into someone who is really very soft in expressing those things. He is still motivated by fear and that fear makes him hard-edged, even when his insides are goo. And I love your Ian, who is sunshine itself, but also so much more alone than he ever is in the early seasons of the show because he isn't able to be out even to Lip really. His relationship with Monica is so heartbreaking and his descent into his loneliness and into resentment and feeling like Mickey doesn't care, all of it feels like something I could have been watching on the show.

That thing that Shameless does where they give you a little moment of pure wonder, and then follow it up by socking you in the mouth, it's that. You've captured that.

I swear there is so much more I could say but I feel that would be maybe concerning and you might take out a restraining order. But honestly I have been thinking about how to write this more succinctly for days and I couldn't come up with a way that could accurately convey how excellent I think this fic is in less words than I have used.

In short though, I love your writing and this work specifically and am very invested in reading the next chapter and all of the chapters after that.

🖤 Howl x

Hello! I'm slow! I'm sorry about that!

I'm also blown away. This whole thing is amazing and makes me grin like an unhinged person. But I sometimes am like "should I reply privately or is that rude?" -- I think I landed on that it's rude (so apologies to people I've done that to) and I apologize for my neuroses.

So first of all: super glad you like Bound. Super glad you have feelings about it! Totally love that you tried to make notes -- it's truly amazing that you'd make that kind of effort over it. Much love. 💕

Bound started life as a one-shot so sometimes I’m momentarily surprised when people talk about how the story starts in season one. I’m glad you enjoy the relief because I feel like it’s the emotion I write with them the most and a lot of times I’m like “I hope this doesn’t feel repetitive…” (though. Not a problem in recent chapters I guess). But. A bond under threat has a euphoric quality when they get to be together.

Also, because it was a one shot I didn’t expect to have to do much world-building, but that’s maybe one of the things I have the most fun with. Like tonight I was doing the dishes and starting wondering about how, exactly, things work when you bond with a psychopath. These are the things that haunt me.

I like the idea of the socio-economic impact of soulmates, so I very much want the other characters to continue their canon journeys. It’s maybe a little pessimistic but I see enough situations where we decide something that occurs naturally is wrong and must be fixed for me to think that people would accept the actual rules that seem to exist around soulmates without wanting to shape them into something else.

So happy you like the characterization! I’d never written Mandy before the one-shot but I immediately loved her. And I love wiring so many of the characters. Iggy. Fiona. DEFINITELY V. So glad you enjoy Mickey and Ian, too. I don’t think absolute security in a relationship is entirely possible for Mickey — but also, even knowing that he’s bound and that Ian loves him, it can still be really uncomfortable for him to be open about everything that means to him. I also, since I will probably never write a 3x12-4x07 fill-in fic I really wanted to get into Ian and Monica. That relationship is so interesting to me.

I don’t know who these people are who look askance at people taking the time to tell them they really like their work ARE, but I assure you I am not among their number. Truly so grateful for this. Thank you for your time, your attention and your really kind and thoughtful words. It truly means so much to me.

#asks #bound #my fic #thank you so much for this!#truly made me smile

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vaguely-concerned · 4 years

Text

R-r-r-rewatch thoughts for The Mandalorian S2 Ep2

(or Chapter 10 as they seem resolved to call it)

- can I just express my joy for a moment that in one episode we get peli, the answer to my pleas for female representation in the ‘sketchy middle aged car mechanic’ niche, and a female alien designed with no consideration towards sexiness. (I mean I’m sure there’s someone. There is always someone somewhere on the Internet, is the bitter truth history has shown to us. but it’s not the intention behind the design haha)

- they do take great pains to deliberately show you boba’s armour several times both in the recap and in the episode itself, so never despair he is very likely still on his way onto our screens once more

- this dude holding the baby hostage wanting specifically the jetpack in exchange is the one (1) break this whole episode gave din lol

also the Patented Mando Finger Curl of Stress while he talked softly and calmly to not promp this asshole to make a sudden move... the most endearing character tic, I love my space cowboy dad so much

- fun continuity detail: din is all out of whistling birds now, and you can see it here!

I wonder if he could still use the same mechanism with different ‘ammo’, it’s just not as effective? from the way the armorer spoke whistling birds seem quite rare and it would be an inefficient use of beskar if that’s the only thing it can be loaded with

- I love how after the last episode, a 50 min epic with a bunch of original trilogy significance and impressive technical achievements and exciting character reveals, I was like ‘yeah okay I suppose that is quite interesting’, and this mess/comedy of inconveniences is the thing that fully makes my brain tip into the obsessive ‘BABY AND DAD SHOW!! BABY AND DAD SHOW!!!!!’ mind state lol

- ah the traditional ‘mando trudging slowly but steadily through the desert’ montage we all love to see (I hope this is going to be a Thing for the second episode of every season from now on)

Also I assume his suit has some sort of temperature regulation built in and that’s how he didn’t, y’know. die under the blazing desert sun

CAT FIGHT CAT FIGHT man I love the jawa. also mando doesn’t even glance over at them, really emphasizing how he’s like. done with this entire day (and it’s all barely even getting started din! i’m sorry)

yodito’s look in this scene tho... he’s like ‘we’ve Seen some shit lady’ (actually I think he’s staring at ‘dr mandible’ like O___o. it’s been a long day for a lil boy)

you get to see dr mandible’s cards a few times, so I assume anyone who knows the rules of... sabacc? probably? could figure out beforehand that he was in a bad spot. (the star wars fanbase is one of those where I KNOW the rules exist somewhere, and I know people who know those rules exist too)

- that sound the baby keeps making -- the ‘boo-a’, sometimes with a p-sound at the end -- if that’s the precursor to him saying any variation whatsoever of ‘dad’ or ‘papa’ or ‘baba’ or even ‘buir’ or anything, I will die. I will sink to the ground in a heap and never get up (the way he keeps seeking out gaze contact with the helmet and seems perfectly satisfied with it too... fasdhfaskdjhl my FEELINGS)

- it seems confirmed in this ep that the mandos who died on nevarro did so while holding off the enemy so the rest(probably especially the children) could get away; some of them appear to have escaped. which I guess is a small relief

frog lady stepping out of the shadows and into our hearts

I like that her firm nod after Peli translates ‘her husband has seen them’ lets us know she understands... basic? is that the common tongue thing in star wars there’s just so many to remember across fandoms lol? perfectly well, even if she can’t speak it.

- mando might be running low on ammo for the pulse rifle, if the fact that he hasn’t replaced the missing cartridge on his... bandolier belt thingy is any indication

ETA: actually ignore me this has been a thing since the literal first episode of the show my brain just had a hiccup lol

- so baby seems to use a little bit of the force to pull the eggs towards him -- I wonder how often he ‘taps into it’ or if it’s always ‘on’ in the background for him. if so I guess there’s no wonder he’s so hungry (but also... kid you can’t end this lady’s entire family line like that one cat who singlehandedly made extinct a whole species of bird! D:)

- din so rarely gets openly angry, he just gets passive aggressive and grumpy. and that’s probably not the healthiest way to deal with things but I love him

- frog lady reacts so strongly to when din sends the ping when nothing else woke her up, I wonder if she can hear more frequencies than a human

hello darkness my old frieeennnddd

proof nr 1508 that din does not starve this baby you guys, he even has his own little tray just the right size for him! as it happens the baby simply seems to prefer eating things that are... still alive in some capacity. which, uh. maybe they can invest in some form of non-sentient crickets or something for him to hunt down and.... oh dear

Look how they massacred my boy

By the way I finally managed to put into words why the Razor Crest -- and particularly the way it keeps getting beaten to hell and back and patched up again -- is so symbolically important and meaningful to me in this show in this post over here! it’s always a great relief to me when I can finally understand what the hell I’ve been going on about all this time and this was one of those lol

- honestly if it weren’t for frog lady and (more importantly) the baby I think there’s a slight chance din would’ve gone ‘well I had a good-ish run of it for a while there’ and just let the ice claim him haha

- “Why don’t you come over here and give me a hand. Make yourself useful” This is the one time in the episode I think he crosses the line into just being a dick for a moment (but noticeably the baby isn’t just a little hurt at this reaction, he’s clearly surprised and confused, which means this really does not happen often. after the time mando’s been having recently I guess a moment’s snappishness is understandable haha. he does follow up right after with being much more responsive and attentive when the baby toddles away from him, so it feels like it’s going to be okay)

also the ‘boo-ap’ sound is there again when he’s trying to get din’s attention. just sayin’

when din comes over to see the footprints baby makes a declarative little meep like ‘see??? I did tell you!’ haha

- it is very funny that mando is using all his technology meant to track down dangerous bounties in the grungy depths of the criminal underworld... to find a naked lady just chillin’ in a hot spring

cue the ‘father is evil?’ memes fsadfda. actually the funniest thing about this moment (apart from the fabulous finger acting) is that din actually snatches a few eggs out of the baby’s reach more subtly right before, and that baby only whines for ALL OF ONE SECOND before he goes to sniff around for other food possibilities fkadfhjkds. from my experience with human children he’s a lot less prone to tantrums. yodito doesn’t get mad, he gets even

- baby running towards din through the hatching spiderlings like ‘DAD I FUCKED UUUUUUP’, din’s little strangled ‘ngh’ sound as he picks the baby up and watches all the creepy crawlies come out... *chef kiss* impeccable

(that little ‘ngh’ and the soft shocked ‘ah ah AH!’s from when he goes flying at the beginning of the episode... pedro pascal and his voice work for this character gives me so much life. in some ways din has this sort of dignity and grace and in other ways he uh extremely doesn’t. he gets to be cool but also vulnerable in ways a lot of male main characters don’t and it’s probably why I love him so much)

btw here is that moment when din moves to hold the baby tightly against him with both hands as the big spider appears, because it gets me right in the heart... it such an instinctive thing of holding on to the dearest thing you’ve got before something bad is about to happen

fdsafhsdakjlfhsdkjlhfsdajhf oh my god the baby is clutching din’s finger with his little hand during the chase!!!! 😭😭😭

this FUCKING SHOW has just WEAPONIZED putting in small details everywhere to convey the love and tenderness and attachment felt by a little muppet doll even where only weirdos like me will frame by frame their way through the video to see it I am so MAD

- frog lady going ‘fuck this’ and bounding along is e v e r y t h i n g

- din is an amazing shot, though, he doesn’t seem to miss a single one in this whole scene (then again there’s something to shoot at basically everywhere one can take aim so lol)

baby hiding behind/half hugging din’s boot as he tries to get the doors closed hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I can’t breathhhhheeeee

honestly every single one of the baby’s proximity seeking behaviours in this ep has me on my knees

- it’s very unfair to play the heroic happy mando music like everything is going to be fine and then have a huge fuck-off spider drop down from the ceiling and break it off mid-tune, the mandalorian, you have trained me in certain ways and now do you betray me??? how can I trust again

- the camera work in the scene with the new republic guys gives such a good sense of the discomfort of being judged from on high by someone or something you can’t really see -- the glare of the lights blocking out everything in the shots from din’s pov makes it feel like a tense interrogation (the new republic dude who is actually dave filoni has such a look of fondness as he watches din tho it’s kind of sweet)

- ...oh no I think baby was actually considering munching on that dismembered spider leg YODITO NO JUST EAT YOUR KRAYT DRAGON BABY

- hngh this is a weird filler episode and it has my entire heart. I suspect we might get some episodes of a more stationary baby between active ones like this -- you can tell a little bit in this episode that especially having him running around fast is quite difficult to have look natural, they likely save that effort up for when it best serves the narrative

#star wars #the mandalorian #the mandalorian meta #the mandalorian spoilers #mmmm brain empty only dad and baby show in here #(actually that's not true there's some tf/graves activity going on at all times too haha)

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etheshadowlord · 3 years

Text

UNPROFESSIONAL REVIEW OF EVERY POWER RANGERS EPISODE I CAN FIND PART 3!

Spoilers ahead for episodes 11-16. It's been a while I hope this post finds you...I don't know what state it will find you in but it could be Connecticut for all we know. Anyway, it's been a long time so I had to back up pull these out of the drawer and dust them off. I"ve mostly finished season 1 already at this point and started season 2 because the filler was getting to me and then I realized, life is far too short to get impatient. So time to slow down and reflect.

As well as subject ourselves to this madness.

Episode 11: No clowning around.

We start the episode off with Kimberly, Zack, Billy, and Jason at the Angel Grove Fair with Zack showing his hip-hop stilt dancing....yeah no it doesn't really work that well and he takes a short spill only to quickly reveal today's Villain, evil imposter clowns. Meanwhile, we see Trini bringing the kid of the day....her cousin.

Kids are cute, clowns are wholesome and nothing bad could possibly happen. Right.....so short fact I love clowns. I hate evil and monster clowns because they give the noble profession a bad name anyway whoever Pineapple the clown is, the clown council is probably greatly displeased with them.

Bulk and Skull enter the picture to tease the main team and get egg on their face. The eggs came from Billy attempting to juggle eggs on offer from the villainous clown Pineapple...Not sure but it's the thing today I guess.

So we get a segue to hearing the Gloriously Evil plan for her repulsiveness. Magical Pineoctopus that turns people into cardboard cutouts and....a...fake....fair? You know if magic stuff wasn't involved I would question how the fuck the police aren't shutting these stunts down before people get hurt. I wonder if there's just an "it's not my problem" field on these things.

So the monster of the week flattens Sylvia and the rangers convince the park goers to leave thus begins the fight. Meanwhile, Trini saves Sylvia with some water and then rejoins the Rangers in time to Put this clown down....for good. Okay, he's a fruit cephalopod but that's beside the point. End of the episode Vignette and we learn never to go with strange clowns.....or strangers period.

Fun: * * * - -

Rita: Mad

These Clowns: Failures.

Episode 12: Power Ranger Punks

We start this episode with a reminder that Baboo...

This person is actually capable of evil as well. Though not skilled at the practice of monster molding, his specialty seems to be making potions. In this case, ones to make Kimberly and Billy into....Punks.

Meanwhile, Rita unleashes the Terror Toad while they try to figure a way to correct their friends' bad behavior. Through an antidote. It works they beat the toad with a well-aimed arrow to the mouth and save the day. Sorry Baboo, no villain star today for you.

Baboo: Great alchemist....also where'd you get the Rattlesnake Lips? Share your sources please and thanks.

Drinks: Don't leave open drinks Also don't drink open drinks if you're a hero. Even if it was fine earler.

Punk: Not dead.

Episode 13: Peace, Love, and Woe.

So we start off with both Bulk and Skull causing chaos and with Rita demanding Finster to make her....Madame Woe, who is apparently almost as evil as Rita herself. Huh... also love strikes when you least expect it. Billy ends up falling for Marge who asks him to the dance and...Marge gets mistaken for a Power Ranger.

Clearly, because Rita didn't give her loyal servant the proper intel. So yeah Marge and the rangers get zapped into Madam Woe's funky dimension of Woe where she is all-powerful and send the Blue Ranger back to beat her in One on One combat, Madam Woe is defeated and we get a vignette of learning....that Bulk stores his money in his shoe.

Knowledge: Cursed.

Fun: * * * * -

Woe: - - - - -

Episode 14: Foul Play in the Sky.

We start the episode by meeting Kimberly's Uncle Steve who is a pilot and a sleeping potion.

Rita, if Monsters can't kill the power dweebs then what about flat-out gruesome murder. In fact, why hasn't she just poisoned them with a deadly poison at this point? Is it the fact she wants to look upon them as they despair? Is that the game here?

Anyway, Steve is put to sleep and Kimberly lands a plane all the while Bulk and Skull are in the back passed out because obviously you'd faint hearing that the pilot is out like a light and you're probably going to die. Rita's monster of the week is a snake man thing that fires power-draining snakes.

The plane lands and Kimberly shows us some real archery skills with a regular William Tell signature move. And we end the episode on a light note of Shakes on Bulk and Skull.

Fun: * * *- -

Plane controls: * * * * -

Rita: Wanted for attempted murder through sabotage.

Episode 15: Dark Warrior.

So another family member makes a one-time appearance. Trini's Uncle Howard is a brilliant scientist. He even made an invisibility formula. And Bulk and Skull decide to pick on Billy for....quarters for a dumb arcade...game?

Actually, we've seen Billy do some really stellar martial arts so why is he putting up with this? Seriously?

Uncle Howard shows up and....isn't wearing his glasses as he's looking for his niece. So he dumbly puts the formula on the counter. This will cause trouble later I can tell. Also, Rita sends a new monster out to find this formula. The labeled Dark Warrior. Looks more like Camo with a scarf to me. I mean invisibility can also mean camouflaging.

So Dark Warrior being a sadistic monster captures Howard, then tries to extort the formula from Trini. They fight the dark warrior and defeat him with the combined power of friendship and giant robots. Then we see Bulk and Skull get a taste of their own medicine as Uncle Howard shows off the invisibility formula that apparently can be drunk and affects your clothes as well? Weird.

Science: - - - - - WE DON'T WATCH THIS FOR ACCURATE SCIENCE!

Fun: * * * * -

Boxes: Marked with TNT Like this was Minecraft.

Episode 16: Switching Places.

You'll never know a person until you walk a mile in their shoes is usually how the saying goes. I think it works better if they were them for a week. You really get to know someone's life after a week of having to do things the way they do things.

Anyway, we start this episode with Squatt being the little Gremlin he is messing with Billy's Invention....the machine in question is a Machine to allow someone to read your mind...

So first mistake not going through the line of making sure everything is right before the experiment. Secondly, human experimentation is a bit....questionable in ethics.

Anyways, Kimberly and Billy get Switched. Like you know....body swapped. THIS IS WHY YOU SHOULD ALWAYS CHECK THINGS BEFORE THE EXPERIMENT!

....The same also happens to Bulk and Skull.

All while this is going on Squatt unleashes a mighty Genie to fight the rangers. Guess it doesn't subscribe to the classic Genie Rules. However, the true power of the genie is in the lamp...obviously and Alpha defeats the genie by zapping it to...wherever he zapped it to. We close out the episode with everyone getting their minds back in their own bodies even Bulk and Skull sorta learn their lesson.

Switch: eroo

Genie: Wished out.

Skull: Pretty dull still.

Thus ends part 3 of this synoptic unprofessional review of every power rangers episode that I can get a hold of at least on Netflix. The next part will be the Green With EVIL special. Hence why I went with six episodes for this part because it's a five-parter coming up. Until then, see you in the next post.

#Power Rangers #unprofessional review #this is for fun #The show is campy and I haven't done these in a while and was bored #I still like the Power Rangers #really these are more like me giving my own commentary on these episodes but that's fine I'm allowed to post what I want on my blog

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drariellevalentine · 4 years

Text

Medically Inevitable

Chapter 8- Glamorous Girls’ Night

Warnings:- Very mild cursing, alcohol

Characters:- Arielle Valentine, Sienna Trinh, Ethan Ramsey, Naveen Banerji, Alyssa Raines, Kyra Santana, Ines Delarosa, Jackie Varma, Arabelle Raines

Pairing:- Ethan Ramsey x Arielle Valentine

Arielle’s PoV:-

You wake up to Sienna's calls which by the time you go to pick up ends. Yawning you rub your eyes and reach for your phone. You unlock it to find seven missed calls and innumerable texts from Sienna.

“OMG Si! I’m sooo sorry!! I didn’t see your texts at all! Please forgive me!!🥺🥺🥺”, you text back.

"..Fine. Only cause you're my bestie. Now I'm calling you, you're going to answer and tell me word for word of what happened yesterday night as punishment!" She texts you back almost immediately.

"Deal! Just give me a few minutes.", you reply. Getting up from the bed you reach for your bag to take out the things that you need. After brushing your teeth and then combing your hair you unlock your phone again. Going through the contact list you stop at Sienna's number and video call her. "Hi!" Sienna greets you excited.

"Hi," you say.

"You've got a lot to say Ari. But before that, everything is okay, right?" Her concerned voice asks.

"Yes, everything is fine," you smile at her concern.

"Good! Now I need all the details about the "work" you were doing that kept you so busy that you couldn't even reply to my texts or pick my call." You roll your eyes even though she can't see.

"The "work" I was doing was finding out what's wrong with my godfather. And I couldn't reply because I was sleeping."

"Ooh! "

"What "ooh!"?"

"Sleeping with your... " She doesn't finish the sentence but you don't need her to, you already know what she's saying.

"God Si! He's my boss!" She snickers.

"And I’m in his guest room, he's in his room!"

"I know Ari. I was just teasing you. You don't need to explain things to me."

"I know."

"But I need all the details though. What you talked about, even Dr. Banerji's symptoms and what diagnosis you guys made. Everything!" "Fine!" I start filling her with Naveen's condition and the diseases we ruled out.

"That's all?" She asks after I am done.

"Yeah...Why?"

"Medicine can't be the only thing you talked about..."

"Si," I try to warn her to stop teasing me.

"C'mon! There must be something!"

"Umm... his dog? He's so freaking cute! I almost tripped while watching him," you start saying. Well, correction, I tripped while watching him," you laugh.

"You tripped? And you are telling that to me now! Are you hurt?" Sienna switches to mother hen mode.

"Calm down Si! I sprained my ankle slightly but that's it."

"How badly did you injure yourself?

“I think I injured myself quite bad? I couldn't even walk properly, don’t worry it’s fine now! Dr. Ramsey had to carry me inside-" you abruptly stop realizing what you just said. You see Sienna's smirk growing wider.

"He did what?!" She asked surprised.

"Nothing."

"Arielle!"

"Sienna!"

"Ari!"

“Fine! He was just helping me okay?”

"Sureeee!" She says in a teasing voice, " I mean obviously bosses invite their interns to their home and then carries them inside like their bride!”

"Sienna!" I exclaim in a shocked voice and she laughs. You both talk for a little while and then wave goodbye. After ending your phone call with Si, you head out to the empty living room. “Hmm...he must be sleeping. Thank god, or else he would have heard everything!” You open the fridge and spot a bottle of almond milk. You pour yourself a glass and just try to relax, but can’t. Yesterday’s events keep running through your mind until you can’t take it anymore. You wash your glass and keep it aside when you spot a yoga mat tucked away in the corner. You go to your room and get dressed in the simple grey and black outfit, pulling your hair into a high ponytail. Wearing your AirPods, you play a playlist of tunes and head out to stretch. You start with slowly stretching our your entire sore body, making sure not to put much weight on your ankle. Starting with a few simple positions, you slowly work your way up to the harder ones. Pulling out your phone, you quickly set a timer and flex yourself into another position, just as the flash goes off. You quickly post it on Instagram.

Ethan’s PoV:-

You wake up to the alarm you set for 6:45, brushing and flossing your teeth. You pull on a dark grey v-neck and head out with a half-asleep where you see Arielle in a very twisted, complex position. Not knowing why, you find yourself mesmerised by the fluid way she moves her body from one position to the next. She arches her back and kicks her leg up, twisting her head to the side when she sees you leaning near the doorframe. Letting out a small yelp of surprise, she quickly brushes herself off, taking off her earphones and heads towards you. “Good morning! I didn’t see you there.” You can’t but help trail your eyes over her body, skin-tight leggings and all. She doesn’t seem to notice as she focuses her attention on Jenner.

“Hey, boy! Looks like somebody’s sleepy!” She looks up at you. “I hope you don’t mind, I grabbed a glass of almond milk from the fridge. You were sleeping and I didn’t want to disturb you.”, she says as she scoops him into her arms.

“That’s quite alright. You do know I have a treadmill here right? You can use it if you want, there’s also some other equipment here.” You lead her to an open but tucked away place where you’ve set up all your equipment.

“Join me.”, she says.

“I will.” You head to your room and pull on an outfit and find her using your old treadmill, talking to Jenner at the same time. You’ve never seen Jenner get along with someone this quickly.

“I don’t know why you bought a new one. This is perfectly fine.”, she says as she notices you enter.

“For your height, yes. The handlebars are quite short.”

“Hey! I can’t help it that I’m short! Plus, you’re 6’4”! That’s as tall as a basketball player!”, she says ridiculously. You laugh as you start running on the new treadmill beside her. In 30 minutes, both of you have worked up a good sweat and appetite.

“Okay, I’m done! I’m going to take a shower and then we’ll make something for breakfast.” She heads off to her room as you finish off yours and jump in the shower. After getting dressed and drying your hair until it’s damp, you head into the kitchen to find her climbing on top of the kitchen counter. She’s dressed in a very short hoodie and jeans...or leggings, you’re not quite sure.

“What are you doing?!”

She turns around as she shouts, “Don’t sneak up on a girl like that! I’m trying to grab that pan. Why do you keep everything up so high?!” Laughing, you grab the pan from the shelf with ease and hand to her as she gets down.

“You do know how to cook, right?” She gives you an incredulous look.

“I’m making banana French Toast. Is that okay? I mean you have all the ingredients.” Thank god she isn’t making pancakes.

“Okay, So what’s your recipe?” She gestures to a spread of ingredients. “I need two bowls, a fork and a electric whisk.” You pull out everything from the cabinets and hand it to her. “Okay, first we’ll start with the eggs.” She cracks a few into the bowl and whisks them vigorously until they turn pale yellow and frothy. “Now the sugar and butter.” You hand her the softened butter and sugar. Without measuring, she adds them into the eggs.

“No measuring?”, you ask.

“Naveen.”, she nonchalantly responds as she beats the mixture. You recall the times of when he would cook, never using any type of measurement.

“That man despises measuring cups.”

“Tell me about it! Him and my cousin have debates about it every single time they meet. My cousin’s a professional chef. Now, hand me those ripe bananas.” Handing them over, she quickly peels and mashes them together, adding a lot of vanilla extract. You raise an eyebrow.

“It tastes much better! Now the milk, just enough to thin out the batter.” You hand her the carton of milk. She incorporates it into the batter. Then picking up the bowl of eggs, butter and sugar, she carefully folds it into the banana.

“Okay, done! Now, hand me that pan.” She turns on the stove and adds just a touch of butter to the pan. “If you add too much butter, the bread will become too soft.” She takes a slice of bread and submerges it into the batter. Holding it for a few seconds, she places it onto the pan. Making about 5 pieces while you put away all the ingredients and brew coffee, she places two in one and three in another.

“Do you have chocolate or maple syrup?” You hand her both of them. She pours a little to yours while adding a lot to hers, bringing both the plates to the dining table, along with the coffee you brewed. Jenner starts sniffing the plates.

“No, no, no. Those aren’t for you, they have chocolate. Let’s go get you some food. Where you you keep the dog food?” You pull out Jenner’s food and set a bowl of food and water for him, then go sit down with Arielle.

She pushes the plate with 3 slices towards you. “Try it! It’s one of my special recipes.” You take a bite and you try not to show any emotion. Lord, that is good! “So...how is it?”

“It’s adequate.” She laughs as she takes a bite. Both of you start eating when suddenly her phone rings, Jenner starts barking.

She bends down, “It’s okay, boy. It’s just this.” She shows him her lit up phone. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all.”

Arielle’s PoV:-

You open your phone and see it’s Elijah. “Hey Elijah!”

“Where the hell were you, Ari! We were worried!”

“I’m so sorry! I’m at.. my friend’s house right now. I told Si though.”

“Yeah, I know. She tried calling you but you didn’t answer yesterday. Anyways, apparently you left your shift early yesterday? What happened?”

“Oh that. I wasn’t feeling well and Ines sent me home, I’m fine though now. I ended up twisting my ankle so I couldn’t drive home last night. I’ll be at the apartment in an hour.”

“K, see you.” You hang up and turn to Ethan where you find him finishing his plate. “Sorry about that. My roommates were wondering where I was. Sienna covered for me so I’m fine.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that you left your shift early?” You wince, completely forgetting what you told him.

“I didn’t exactly want to explain, plus I’m fine now.” He nods.

“How did you all get an apartment together, did you know each other before?” You recount the story of what happened as you finish off breakfast. After helping him with the dishes, you go to your room and pack all your stuff and head towards the door as Ethan follows.

“I had a nice time, although I wish we had met by Naveen introducing us. Probably would have saved me that first dressing down.” You notice a flash of regret in his eyes. “But I still don’t mind how we met.” You wave as you head down to your car, driving towards your apartment. You find Elijah, Sienna and Landry on the sofa, watching a movie. “Hey guys!” They turn to look at you.

“Where were you?”, Landry asks. You’re careful not to give away anything.

“My friend was visiting from Chicago, I went to see him.” You drop your stuff and sit near Sienna, as you watch the movie.

“So...what happened this morning?”, she smirks.

“Nothing! Now shut up!”, you say playfully, but quietly.

A few hours later, you, Sienna and Jackie are lounging on the sofa after lunch. “Guys, I’m bored and burnt out from studying. Let’s do something.”, Jackie says.

“But what? Elijah and Landry have gone to another baseball game for a guys’ night with some of the surgical interns.”, Si says. An idea strikes you.

“Guys, what if we have a girls’ night?! We could have a spa day! What do you say?!”

“That’s a great idea! But who do we invite?”, Si asks. You think.

“Let’s invite Kyra and Ines. I’ll go see if Phoebe’s in. And... I think Alyssa’s in town.”, you say.

“Who’s Alyssa?”, Jackie asks.

“My sister-in-law.”, you reply.

“OMG! Do you mean Alyssa Raines? The fashion icon of all time!?”, Si bursts. You nod.

“Yep! And I think she might bring Arabelle along too.”

Sienna shrieks, “This is going to be so much fun! Right Jackie?!” She rolls her eyes.

“Okay, So I have a bunch of products for whipping up masks and scrubs, so I’ll get them out and start organising after calling Alyssa. You two see if Kyra, Ines and Phoebe are up for it. It’s 3 right now so...tell them to come over at 5.” Both of them step outside the apartment to call Phoebe.

You go into your room and call Aly.

“Aunt Arielle! Hiiiii!”, she shouts. You can hear Aly shouting in the background to give the phone to her.

“Hi Belle. Can you do Zia a favour and give the phone to mommy please?”

“Okay!........Hey Ari!”

“Hey Aly, I was just wondering if you were in town. The girls and I were planning to do a spa day. Do you want to join?”

“I don’t know...I need someone to watch Belle”-

You cut her off. “You can bring Belle along. So, it starts at 5. Can you make it?”

“Umm...let me check.” You hear her talking to one of her assistants. “Yeah, I’ll be there. Do you want me to bring anything?”

You think. “Well...it would be nice if we all had matching robes. I’ll send you the address.”

“I should have something in the warehouse. I’ll see you at 5. Bye!” You hang up and turn around to find Si and Jackie entering.

“So, Phoebe is out of town but Kyra and Ines are coming.”, they say.

“Great! Aly’s coming with Belle and I asked her to bring us all matching robes. So that’s...6 ladies and Belle.” You quickly shoot Aly a text and turn to them.

“Okay, so we’ll need to set up an area, arrange everything and probably make some refreshments.”

“Ooh! I saw these really cute pizza bites on Insta yesterday! I’ll make those and lemonade...and then get out some snacks and make something sweet.”

“Si, that’s a lot. You sure you don’t need help?”

“Nope! I’ve got it!” She heads towards the kitchen, a bounce in her step.

“Okay, So we’ll set up in my room.” You start clearing up space in your huge room, layering blankets and pillows.

“Okay, so I’ll get out some towels, mirrors & bowls and you arrange them, Jackie.”

“She arranges them as she asks you, “You’ve done this before, you’re quite good.”

“I host most of the holidays and celebrations at home.” You open one of your cabinets, revealing boxes and shelfs full of beauty products.

“My god, Arielle! How much do you even have? No wonder your skin is so clear.”

You laugh. “There all my godfather’s secrets. His Indian heritage held so much information about natural skincare, and I’ve been interested since a very young age.” You pull everything out and arrange it on your bed.

“I mean I’m Indian too, but I don’t do any of this, but maybe I should. Wouldn’t hurt to have a little bit of natural beauty.”

“...that’s everything! Let’s go help Sienna.” You both head to the kitchen, a mouthwatering smell wafting from it. After an hour full of prepping, the doorbell rings. You open it and a tiny but strong force collides with your legs. You look up to see Aly standing there, behind her Ines and Kyra.

“Aunt Arielle! Hi!!!”, she adorably says making everything laugh. You scoop her up into your arms and give her a kiss on the cheek.

“Hey Aly!” She gives you a hug.

“Long time no see, Dr. Valentine.” You smile as you lead them inside. “Nice place.”, Aly says.

“Hey, Doc. You never told me you were famous, I mean the Alyssa Raines is your sister-in-law!” You all laugh.

“Well maybe I could have if you had stopped teasing me.”, you counter.

“Hey Arielle, are you feeling better now?”, Ines asks.

“I told you already that day itself, I’m fine. But thank you for asking!” You introduce everyone to everyone and lead them inside.

“Here Ari. I brought the robes you asked for.” Aly hands everyone the robes and everyone gets dressed.

You notice Jackie tense up when Belle walks near her. “She’s really sweet, Jackie. Just talk to her.”

“Hi! What’s your name?”, Belle asks.

“Jackie.”

“Ooh! That’s a really cool name.” You see Jackie’s eyes flash with surprise as she starts to warm up to her.

“So, why didn’t you get dressed like everyone else?”, Belle asks.

“Because I don’t like to wear them.”

“Aw! Why not! You would look really pretty! But you would look pretty in anything, like my mom and aunt.”, Belle responds. You see Jackie laugh as she leaves to go get changed. Soon everyone is changed and sitting on the makeshift area.

“Okay! Let’s get started! First, get into pairs.”, you say. Kyra picks you, as Aly and Jackie pair up. Sienna and Ines also pair up.

“I’ll help everyone with whatwever they need! Mommy has one, I forgot what they’re called.”, Belle says as you all laugh.

“They’re called an assistant, Belle.”

“As-ashis-...I’ll just help!”, Belle says as you all burst into laughter, again.

“She’s adorable Alyssa! How old is she?”, Ines asks.

“She turned 5 a few months ago. Although sometimes she can act like she’s much older, sometimes.”, Aly replies.

“Okay! We’ll start with hair, taking turns and later rinsing it off in the tub. Okay, so what kind of mask do you all want?”, you ask. After a short discussion, they each decide on a hair mask. You grab the bottle of your coconut hair mask for hydration for you & Kyra, a hibiscus one for hair fall for Si and Ines, and an almond and vitamin E for shine for Jackie and Aly. Everyone settles down and starts.

“You sure know a lot about this stuff.”, Kyra says as you massage the mask into her hair, placing a towel on her neck.

“It’s an interest of mine.”

“Well, if the doctor thing doesn’t work out, you can always turn into a spa worker. Although I’d have to find you a new nickname.”, she says.

“What nickname?”, you turn to see Jackie, Aly massaging her scalp.

“The female version of McDreamy!”, Kyra says. They all burst into giggles.

“Let’s play some music!”, Belle says.

“Great idea, Belle! Can you play some songs from my phone?” She unlocks your phone and plays the playlist you tell her to.

“Ines, there’s a speaker right beside you. Can you turn it on?” She turns it on and music starts blasting. Everyone starts singing but you keep quiet.

“Aunt Arielle, why aren’t you singing?”, Belle asks.

“That’s cause if she sings, we’ll all sounds like giraffes. No offence.”, Jackie says.

“Really, I’ve never heard you sing. If you can sing that well, then I’m making you sing one of Ariana’s songs.” She changes the song to “One Last Time” by Ariana Grande.

You start belting out the first few lines, as others start to join in. By the time you’re finished with the song, your voice is winded.”

“Damn girl, you’ve got pipes!”, Kyra says.

“Why, thank you.”, you say. All of you sing together as you finish up each other’s masks. “Is everyone done?” They all nod.

“Okay, now Jackie and Sienna, go to your bathtubs and fill them up with cold water. Then wash them with the shampoo and conditioner I’m giving you. Whoever did their mask first, wash your hair first.” You hand out all the respective soaps and towels to everyone, then lead Kyra to yours.

You plug the bathtub then turn on the water.

“Okay, So lean your head back after sitting on the stool.” She does as you say.

“So, I guess you’ve been doing this for a long time. I mean like taking care of your hair and skin.”

You nod. “I have. It’s something that my godfather taught me. My hair was always really long and thick, and I always loved taking care of it. Especially when I hit that teenage age, the tips he gave me are still so useful.”

“Oh! I remember when I hit mine, it was horrible. Braces, acne...”, she shudders.

You laugh, “Well look at you now. All done!”, you ring out her hair carefully and wrap it in a towel.

“Okay, now you sit down.” You sit down and flip your hair. She starts massaging and pouring water, cleansing your hair.

“Mmm...That feels good.”

“Your hair is so long! How do you even maintain it! I tried but my hair ended up looking like a bush by the time it got longer than my shoulders!”

“I’ve trained and took care of it from a very young age. My mother died when I was a baby, and my father always said that I always had my mother’s hair. I don’t know, it just feels right...like I’m making her proud when I do something for my hair or skin. I know that sounds silly.”

“It isn’t, it’s quite sweet. But it’s hard not having a mother.”

“It is. But luckily I was fortunate enough to have other amazing people in my life.” She wraps your head in a towel and you both head out to your room where you find the rest of the girls.

“All done?”, Si asks.

“Yep! Now it’s time for facials!” All of you spend hours pampering yourself, occasionally snacking and having a few flutes of champagne, giving Belle lemonade. By the time you’re all done with your facials, hair, nails... it’s around 8.

“Wait! I want to take a picture! Everyone pose!!” Everyone poses on your bed as Belle clicks a photo. You post it.

“I had so much fun! We should do this again sometime.”, Ines says. “Definitely! Next time, you’re all invited to my house.”, Aly says as Bella yawns. “Looks like someone’s sleepy.”

“Well I’m not! Does anyone have any plans for tonight?”, Jackie asks. Everyone shakes their head.

“Oh! What do you guys think of going out, to a club?!”, Kyra says. Everyone nods in agreement.

“I don’t know...I need someone to watch Belle..”, Aly says.

“I have the perfect person to watch Belle. Can you guys start cleaning this up?” You lead Aly outside.

“We’ll drop her later at Naveen’s.” You remember Ethan saying that he takes Naveen home to his apartment after his last shift.

“You two reconciled!? I’m so happy for you two! Finally, my favourite father-daughter duo is back together!” You laugh, careful not to spill anything about Naveen’s condition. “We did.” You enter your room. “Okay, that’s sorted out!”

“I didn’t bring anything to wear!”, Kyra exclaims.

“Neither did I!”, Ines agrees.

“Calm down! I’m right here and you people are worrying about club outfits! Hmm...what do guys say to a quick trip to one of Flair’s stores here? We’ll all pick out an outfit and I’ll get one of the stylists to do our makeup!”, Aly says as everyone cheers.

“Woo! Girls’ night, Girls’ night, Girls’ night!”, Sienna chants as everyone joins in.

“Okay! Let’s go!” After taking a cab to one of Flair’s branches, you all enter the huge ritzy store, Aly staying behind for a phone call.

“Arielle, what a pleasant surprise! Are you hear to model the new autumn lingerie collection?”, Sophie, Aly’s assistant and one of your friends.

“Not today, but I might come in later when I have time. So, my friends and I are hitting the town and we need the sexiest outfits! Aly’ll be here in a sec.”

“Awesome! I’ll go get everyone a stylist and you know about Flair’s collections so you tell the stylists for what line to look in.” She calls a bunch of stylists. You direct one for each person, “Okay, for Sienna, Ines and Kyra, the Sweet but Sexy line. Then for Jackie, Leather & Lace. For me...surprise me, Sophie. You know my style better than me.” Everyone heads off in different directions as Aly comes in with Belle.

“Let me guess, Ari wants you to pick her outfit?” All three of you laugh. “Okay, I’ll go find something. Belle, will you help me?”

“Ooh! Yeah, mommy! Aunt Arielle, wait for me, I want to pick your outfit too!” She skips off, Aly following her. “Okay, I might have just the thing for you.” Sophie leads me to a dressing room and tells me to wait there. You’re scrolling through your messages when your phone chimes with a new one from Naveen.

Sophie knocks and hands the dresses to you. You put them aside and reply. After texting, you quickly eye the dresses and try them on. After much deliberation, you pick two same dresses of different colours. “Ughh! I can’t decide!” Suddenly the door whips open, revealing Belle.

“I helped mommy pick out an outfit! Do you want any help?!”

You hold up the velvet dresses, one in baby pink and the other in wine red. “Which one is better, Amorina?”

“Uh...I like the red one cause you can wear matching red lipstick with it! You look really pwetty with red lipstick!”, she replies.

“Then, red it is! Can you wait outside for a minute?” She goes outside and you slip on the dress and half-coverage bra that Sophie gave you. Stepping outside, you ask her what she thinks.

“You look preeeeety!” You giggle.

“I’ll go do my makeup and then I’ll go drop you off. Guess who’s babysitting you?”, you ask. She shrugs.

“Grandpa Naveen is.” She cheers. “Now, do you want to help me in choosing some accessories?” She nods and runs off. “She has sooo much energy. I wish I had the energy of a 5 year old. My shifts would be much easier!”, you think as so run after her. You find Si and Ines standing there. “Hey!”

“You look beautiful!”, Ines exclaims. Si agrees.

“Thank you!” Just then Belle runs with something in her hand and hands it to you. It’s a gold, multi-layer body chain. “You really are your mother’s daughter! It’s beautiful!”

“Yay! Try it on, try it on!”, she exclaims. Si steps forward and helps you with the chain, securing it in place. You look in the mirror, it looks amazing.

“Ari, give me your phone!”, Si says.

“Why?”

“Cause you look really sexy right now and I’m not letting this photo op go to waste!” You laugh and give her your phone. She leads you to a plush white tufted bench and instructs you how to pose. “Okay, stay still and....Done!” She shows you the pic. “What do you think?”

“You took an amazing photo! I’ll post it.” You quickly post the sexy photo of yourself.

Just then Jackie and Aly saunter in, both wearing Leather & Lace. “I knew you two would get along!”, you say.

“Okay, Arielle. We’ll do your hair and makeup first so you can drop Belle off. By the time you come back, everyone will be ready.” They all usher into a chair as Si starts with your hair and Aly with makeup. They show you the mirror.

“Wow...I look...beautiful!”, you say surprised. Your hair has been let down in thick curls, parted to the side and sprayed with sparkly hairspray. Your makeup is simple but elegant, until the bright red lip.

“You’ve always been pretty.”, Aly says.

“Okay, I’ll go drop Belle off!”

“Wait! What about your shoes, earrings and jacket?...”, Si exclaims. She runs off, returning with matching gold tipped red velvet stilettos, gold hoop earrings and a bunch of rings and necklaces. Expertly placing them,she shoos you away.

“I’ll get a jacket later, come on Belle!” She runs up and holds your hand as you walk to the car. You place her in the backseat, fastening her seatbelt and you slip in the driver’s seat. “Can we leave, Belle?”

“Yeah! But I want music! Can you play something from Frozen, please?!” You nod, playing a Frozen playlist from your phone and connect to the car. Both of you sing the whole 15 minutes of driving. Pulling up, you lead her to the top floor. “Which door?”

“1204.” She runs up and knocks on the door, Frozen style. It takes you a while to catch up, because of those heels.

“...Do you want to build a snowman?!”

Ethan’s PoV:-

Hearing knocking and singing, you open the door to find an adorable 5 year old with a huge smile on her face. “You must be Belle. Who brought you here?”

“Aunt Arielle did! Where’s grandpa?!”, she asks.

“I’m right here! Come here and give me a hug!”, Naveen says. You smile as the girl runs into your mentor’s arms.

“Hey...sorry if this was last minute. I do know a lot of other babysitters but Naveen hasn’t seen her in a while.” You look up to see Arielle, wearing a wine red short dress, her hair let down in spiraling curls and her perfect lips painted red, leaving you trying to tear your eyes away.

“It’s fine. Come in, Naveen would want to see you.” She removes her heels and steps in.

“Sunshine, what a lovely surprise! You look beautiful!”

“Thank you. Belle picked out this dress.” She turns to Belle. “Now, be a good girl for Grandpa and Ethan, okay?”

“Mhm. I will! Byeee!” She kisses her on the cheek and turns to Naveen.

“Have fun, and please don’t exert yourself too much.” She gives him a hug and turns to you, slipping her heels on. “Thank you so much for looking after her. She doesn’t have any allergies or restrictions so there shouldn’t be any problem. She also loves dogs!”....She hesitates. “I’ll see you later.”, she heads to her car and drives away.

“Hi!! What’s your name?”

“My name is Ethan Ramsey.”

“Ohh! Aunt Arielle says your name a lot! She says that you’re very smart! Are you her boyfriend?!” You almost choke at that last bit.

“That wouldn’t be appropriate.”, you respond.

“Why not?!”, Belle asks.

“Because, I’m your aunt’s boss.”

“Ohhh! So you’re Aunt Arielle’s husband! She never told me though!” Your face is now beet red.

“Now what makes you think that, Belle?”, Naveen asks. You glare at him but he cuts you off.

“Well mommy says daddy’s name a lot. She also says that he’s very very smart. When they both first met, daddy was mommy’s boss. And now he’s mommy’s husband so that’s why I asked.”, she innocently says. “But I still don’t think they’re married!”, she says.

“Well Belle, what makes you think they’re not married?”, he asks.

“Naveen!” He gestures you to be quiet.

“Well, Aunt Arielle doesn’t have a ring like mommy and she doesn’t live with Uncle Ethan either. Also, Aunt Arielle would never have her wedding without me! She says I’m her favourite person in the world.”

“I think you’ve met your match, Ethan! Look how smart she is!”, Naveen says with a huge grin on his face.

You roll your eyes. “Are you hungry?”

“Nope! Let’s play! Will you play with me please!?” She gives you the same eyes Arielle gives you when she’s asking for something.

“Alright, do you like dogs?” Her face lights up, you can’t but help thinking about a certain intern. “Damnit Ramsey! Snap out of it!”

“You have a dog?!!! Can I see!?”, she shrieks. You lead her to your bedroom, where Jenner is lazily napping.

“Hey boy! Look who’s here. You have a new friend!” He perks up and goes near Belle, they suddenly run out of the room chasing each other and in the process, knocking down one of your lamps.

Naveen laughs. “Looks like you’ve got your hands full! Let’s see if one of the world’s best diagnosticians can handle a 5 year old for a night!”

You sigh, knowing this is going to be a long night.

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theriverpersonshadow · 3 years

Text

Lamia Drama Part 8

WELL THAT GOT LONGER THAN I INTENDED. But I guess that’s what happens when you have a majority of the people in one place XD

I hope this chapter went well... It felt kinda rambly, but it was fun seeing people play off each other. It was hard to get the same level of depth with characters as previous chapters with so many, but hey, interactions are fun too! Hope you guys enjoy.

As always, the species of lamia in this fic belong to @vex-bittys

< PREV | BEGINNING | NEXT >

Keith and the rest found Alex pretty easily. And a few other lamia that were either allowed free roam or had just slipped out. She didn’t seem to notice the onlookers, more caught up in petting Oozy… who wasn’t technically in his hammock. Maybe it’s best he didn’t make that bet with Hux earlier. Sure, Oozy’s close to the hammock, but Hux would absolutely rules lawyer him and demand snacks because he’s not in the hammock. Hux was a rule stickler… when and only when it helped him in some way. Eh, Keith could roll with it though (even if his dice sometimes couldn’t, but that’s what a DM screen is for).

Keith was hesitant to break up the cute moment between the two – Oozy was apparently having the time of his life, and Alex seemed pretty wrapped up in it herself, humming some tune or another while stroking him. Keith listened, trying to place it, but…

She was repeating it, huh? Was that the only part of the song she knew? Then again, it seemed like the good part, whatever it was. Easy enough to pick up too. Keith started humming along.

Hux rolled his eyes, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like “great, two of them” and slithered over, “Yo. Girl person. Ya coming or what?”

Alex looked up, “I mean, yeah, I think? Coming where?”

“nooooooooo…” Oozy said, taking her hand and putting it back on his head. “Sorry guys. I’m stealing her. She’s my personal petter now. That’s the rules.”

“Since when?!” Hux said.

Oozy looked a moment, then licked her hand. “I licked her, she’s mine.”

Keith stared at him in shock, not sure whether to laugh or slap him. “Dude.”

Nikolai gave a heavy sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose, “Don’t lick party members. Or people in general.”

“How does that work anyways? You’re a skeleton,” Alex said.

“Maaaagic,” Keith said, wiggling his fingers in emphasis. “In other words, uh… Monster biology is weird. Or half monster biology. Whatever the fuck we are.”

Nikolai nodded, “More or less, yes. I can explain it in more detail later, if you’d prefer.” He started coming forward and Alex inched away. Keith hissed before he could catch himself, but Nikolai didn’t seem offended. Instead, he lowered himself in a bow, “And I’d like to apologize for how I acted earlier… I’ll admit I, erm… Overreacted. But we’ve had issues in the past of people coming in to steal babies or eggs, one of the fools tried to snag a mamba egg and got himself killed. I just get a bit jumpy about strangers around them.”

Alex nodded, relaxing a little, but still staring off at a clock instead of Nikolai. Her hand continued to run across Oozy as she said, “I get it. They’re just little dudes, too freaking small. And some are venomous. Not like you knew me.”

“Still, I should’ve given you more of a chance or at least asked you politely to leave before turning to threat displays,” Nikolai said.

“Eh… It was my fault,” Keith said. “I should’ve warned ya I was bringing someone in. Anyways, let’s try this again. Alex, this is Nikolai. He could probably fuck you up, but he’s everyone’s mom.”

Nikolai made no move to deny it.

“Hux here is the grumpy snake. He’ll warm up to ya.”

“No I won’t.”

Keith rolled his eyes, “He’s just a grump.”

Hux mumbled to himself.

“I think you’ve met Oozy pretty well by now.”

“Sup,” Oozy said, making absolutely zero movement.

“And, erm… Nikolai, you’ve got Trousle, right.”

“Hello human! I’m Trousle! Please let me say hi.” Said Trousle’s little speaker. He was poking out from Nikolai’s sleeve, apparently wrapped around his arm.

“He’s mute, but he’s pretty fast at typing. Got his own phone and everything,” Keith said, watching this girl intently. Apparent soulmate or not, if she was dick about Trousle, she was out of here. She might’ve earned Oozy’s enthusiastic (well… enthusiastic by his standards, dude looked like a kid in a candy store, but the world’s laziest kid) approval, but he wasn’t going to let an asshole mess with the little dude. Hux would warm up, that was more him being a bit of an ass than her, but he’d get over it… probably.

“Oh that’s cool! Do you have a phone number? Honestly I think my fingers work better than my mouth sometimes, but I guess talking out loud doesn’t really have a backspace key? But yeah! C’mere… Wait, I can hold him, right? Snakes are just, like, noodle puppies.” She paused, looking at everyone in the room. “I’d offer to hold you guys, but I am literally the second smallest person in here. I mean, guess we can try, but I don’t think it’ll go well?”

Keith snorted. Gosh, she was something, huh? A little awkward, but who wouldn’t be super awkward in this situation?

Nikolai brought Trousle over and she draped him around her neck. He nuzzled her cheek, giving her little scratches behind the ear.

… should someone tell him that she’s not a dog?

…

Naaaaaaaaaah. She didn’t seem to mind anyways,

Hux made a fake-gagging gesture at the two and Keith rolled his eyes, whispering at them, “Oh let’em have this. It’s cute.”

“I’m getting diabetes. Like, right now. They’re just beaming diabetes across the room.”

“Be nice,” Nikolai said, “It’s not going to kill you to have to actually smile at a human once in a while.”

“Yes it will. It’s, like, a terminal thing. If I smile at a human, I will instantly turn to dust.”

No such condition had ever existed and likely never would.

Keith’s first instinct was to back up Nikolai, but it was almost an in-joke that he’d at least try to defend Hux no matter how clearly in the wrong the guy was. Admittedly, it was as often as not either due to boredom or just feeling bad for the guy…

It’s not like Hux didn’t have a point – a point that he had iterated in frustrated, sometimes tear-filled tirades at least a few dozen times. He didn’t want to be treated like a pet, he’s allowed to not want to be a pet. Sure, not every adopter is like that. Some might’ve been looking for pets, yeah, but just as many want a kid or a friend, especially with full sized lamia. It could be more or less just like adopting any other monster, save for needing a good deal more raw meat. But Hux didn’t see it that way… Not that Keith ever blamed him. There wasn’t a huge market for full-sized Corals, their reputation as being stubborn, a bit lazy, and tsundere as hell was cute in something you could pick up and snuggle as it chirped indignantly and secretly enjoyed it – like an extra intelligent, reptilian cat – but less so when it was just as big as you and probably stronger. Everyone wanted a housecat, no one wanted a mountain lion. Or those that did need something to growl and hiss would probably pick Kings or Mambas.

Nikolai gave a long-suffering sigh, “You will not turn to dust if you’re forced to be nice every now and then.”

“Yeah I will. It’ll, like, strangle my soul or some shit. Keith, back me up here. Tell ‘im.”

Nikolai had the distinct impression of a haggard mom trying to reason with an unruly kid. He just looked so done. Dude could handle customers, angry mamba moms, being a jungle gym for babies, and training employees who may or may not have believed he knew he what he was doing, but Hux was his breaking point.

Keith stifled a chuckle, stuffing his hands in his pockets as his mind worked over what to do… He didn’t want to just abandon Hux – Nikolai would know it was just him being a loyal bro – but Alex wouldn’t. She might not’ve been looking at them, but he caught the way she kept glancing over…

“Welp, ya heard him. He’s sick. I prescribe ten CC’s of coffee with extra sugar and bribery with shiny objects.”

Hux’s head popped up, body at attention. “I’m listening… How many shiny objects are we talking.”

“… we’re not bribing him.”

“I’ve got extra dice?” Alex said hesitantly. Trousle was looking at her in concern, patting her face. She said, “I mean, I kinda like having all my dice, but I guess I don’t need seven sets… I’m keeping the black ones though, they’re good for fight scenes. And the orange ones, they were my first set ever and are not for sale. Also, the green and purple ones are just a fae vibe, I’m keeping them. They’re just average, but I like them.” Pause. “And the lesbian dice are mine. They won’t like you anyways, you’re a boy.”

All of them nodded understandingly. You could only play DnD so long and not get irrationally attached to the colorful little click clack rocks of fate.

“That counts as one shiny object,” Hux said.

“There are seven in each set!” Pause. “Well, more or less. I’ve lost some over the years.”

“You’ve got a point… More dice for the dice dragon! Mwahahahah!” Hux said, hamming it up.

Keith’s mouth twitched into a grin as he shook his head at the goof. How was he this cute? Just… goober. His friend is a total goof sometimes.

“Can I try the lesbian dice?” Trousle asked, holding himself at an awkward position to type.

“I… I guess? Just give them back after…” Alex said. She ran a finger across Trousle’s head, smiling as he let out little breathy attempts to “Nyeh.”

“Why are they lesbians anyways? Do they only work for girls?” Nikolai said.

“Here, lemme show you.” She unzipped one of the pouches on her bag and brought out a baggy full of dice that were lesbian flag colored. “My friend got them for me for Christmas.”

“That’s amazing. I want twelve,” Keith said.

“You’re not a lesbian… or a girl! I think… I mean, if there’s something you want to tell us, that’s fine, but I was under the impression you weren’t even interested in relationships,” Nikolai said.

“Maybe I could get, like… Dice that are for people who are just no.”

“Ace and aro. Probably,” Alex said.

“Oh cool. Words for it. Nice!”

“Give me words for friends with everyone! I want a flag too!”

“I… I don’t know if there’s a flag for that? Maybe we could put a dog on a flag? It’d be hard to make dice with dogs on them though,” Alex said.

“Ya could put a little dog face on every side and interpret the roll based on how much they’re a Good Boy,” Keith said.

“That would only roll Nat 20’s,” Alex said, deadpan.

“… good point. It could be the luckiest dice,” Keith said, grinning.

“I AM THE GOODEST BOY. Give me dog dice.” Trousle said, tucking the phone away to throw his little fists in the air, a gleam in his eye as he sat on Alex’s head.

Keith laughed. “Oh my gosh. I mean, that sounds adorable, but, uh… I think that miiiiight be a little too game breaking, even for me.”

“Give me dog dice.” He slithered back down to around Alex’s neck, holding himself out towards Keith the best he could and giving some mix between a glare and a pout.

“Trousle no.”

“Trousle YES,” Alex said.

Troulse nodded enthusiastically, bouncing in place so hard that he fell off and Alex yelped as she caught him.

“Are you alright?!”

Trousle gave a thumbs up, coiling around her arm.

Oozy had apparently fallen asleep on the floor, so Hux poked him with a stick, making Oozy whine. “Soooooo… Are we gonna get Glitterass, or are we just shadow banning him from this? I mean, I wouldn’t say no if we are…”

“We should probably go get him, yeah,” Keith said. “Ya ready Alex? Liam’s a mamba, and one of his eyes don’t work. Try to stay on his good side, literally. Metaphorically too if you want, but he doesn’t like having people where he can’t see or hear them well.” Not that anyone would like that, just courtesy really, but maybe not something you’d think of immediately.

Alex nodded, “Alright, let’s go!”

#Lamia Drama #Lamia Drama Part 8 #Keith #Hux #Nikolai #Oozy #Trousle #Keith the Chain #Hux the Coral #Nikolai the King #Oozy the Corny #Trousle the Papython #Bittybones #Lamia Bitties #Vex-Bitties #Longass chapter #I meant to have liam here too but guess not #Kinda rambly

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britesparc · 3 years

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Weekend Top Ten #474

Top Ten Characters Who Came Back from the Dead

I am stunned – stunned! – that I’ve not done this one before. I mean, come on! It’s right there.

So there’s obviously a thematic resonance going on here. This weekend – the weekend you’re meant to be reading this – is famous where I come from because of a story where someone came back from the dead. Unlike other holidays – Christmas, Halloween, the release of a Star War – I’ve actually been a little slow off the mark in making lists that celebrate Easter. I’ve done eggs and bunnies, but incredibly I’ve never done resurrections, which really is the day’s whole deal. I mean, if you get down to brass tacks, it’s kinda the big selling point of the entire religion really. I hesitate to say “USP” because, well, it’s been done elsewhere, but it’s still supposed to be one of the big Christian takeaways (there’s definitely a chain of Christian takeaways in the States, isn’t there?).

Anyway, resurrection. It’s actually more common than you might think. Certainly in terms of comics there are probably more characters who’ve “died and come back” than have never “died” at all. But! And this is where I get pernickety. Most characters who “die” don’t actually die. Take Batman for instance: he’s shot in the face by Darkseid, and then Superman ups and finds his charred corpse, but – shocker! – he’s not actually dead, he was just sent back in time, where he Quantum Leaps his way back to the present day, accumulating enough Omega Energy with each leap that by the time he reaches the present day he’s blow a hole in reality. Or something, I’ve not read that story for quite a few years. Anyway: he wasn’t dead. Neither was Sherlock Holmes, or for that matter Dirty Den. Generally speaking, if someone dies in a story and then reappears, they’re not dead. Not really.

So this list here is supposed to be people who actually died. Now, even here, it’s debatable; I mean, is E.T. dead, or does his body just go into some kind of hibernation? If Optimus Prime’s brainwaves survive, does he ever really die? Is a clone someone coming back to life or not? It’s all a bit wishy-washy really, which kind of makes sense when you’re talking about resurrection. And let’s not get onto the chief resurrector, the Doctor; do they die every time they regenerate? Or is the regeneration itself a way of staving off death? When David Tennant turned into Matt Smith, did the Tennant-Doctor die? “I don’t want to go,” and all that; there’s always a subtle (or not-so-subtle) change in personality. Does that count? Well, for the purposes of this list, I’ve kinda decided it doesn’t. But it’s an interesting discussion to have, if you’re a big old nerd like me.

So yeah: people who have died – properly, I suppose – and then come back to life. That’s the list. No fakery, to mistaken identity, no alternate universe shenanigans; they were dead but they got better (no Chev Chelios either; sorry, Stath stans). No zombies either! Or vampires! They’re not undead; they were dead, and now they’re alive again. That’s the rule. Also I’ve seriously tried to limit comic book characters. And I’m sure there are some big omissions (like, I know there’s one from Game of Thrones that’s not on here, but that’s because I’ve not seen that far into the show yet; I know, I know). But I reckon these are the best at being back.

Optimus Prime (Transformers franchise, from about 1987): OP is the OG when it comes to coming back to life. Dying and then stopping being dead is pretty much his thing. Technically the first time he came back from the dead was in the original animation; famously being offed by Megatron in The Transformers: The Movie (1986), he came back to life a year later. Subsequent media have frequently killed him and brought him back, even in the live-action movies, but I want to talk about the comics. Because the original Marvel run killed off Optimus at a similar time as the cartoon; he’s blown up in slightly contrived circumstances, but his brain is saved on a floppy disk. Two years later he has his body rebuilt and his brain restored and he’s off to the races once more. Then in 1991, when facing down planet-eating mega-bastard Unicron, he sacrifices himself again, but this time his personality has begun to merge with that of his ostensibly-human companion Hi-Q. Hi-Q/Prime is converted/rebuilt into a new body, and he wins the war. So there you go: even in this one sliver of continued continuity – not including off-shoots or spin-offs, let alone other iterations of the overall franchise – Optimus Prime died and came back to life twice. Beat that, Easter.

E.T. (E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial, 1982): not much to say here that we don’t already know from the Book of Spielberg. E.T., doddery little alien magic-man, grows sicker and sicker as he’s stuck on Earth, until in a thrillingly-edited set-piece he seems to expire, human doctors unable to help him. “I know you’re gone,” says best bud Elliot, “because I don’t know what to feel.” But then! His heart glows! His colour returns! And he positively yells, “E.T. phone hooooooome!” – and Elliot’s euphoric laugh is just devastating. The whole sequence – what is it, ten minutes? Fifteen? – is masterful in every way, from the technical to the performative to the emotional. Bloody magic is what it is.

Gandalf (The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, 1954): Gandalf the Grey famously leads the Fellowship of the Ring across the Bridge of Khazad-dûm, where he faces off against a Balrog. After a bit of “you shall not pass” and all that, they both fall from the bridge, battling each other on the way down, before both perishing at the bottom. Gandalf, though, is not really Gandalf, but Olórin, one of the Maiar – basically a kind of angel, I guess. He is returned to Earth by the powers-that-be to complete his mission, and is promoted to Gandalf the White, supplanting the corrupt wizard Saruman. This new iteration of Gandalf is a bit more serious and steadfast, although he does retain his fascination with hobbits. Regardless, he gets a terrific death scene and a triumphant resurrection, and how it ties into Tolkien’s wider mythology is interesting.

Superman (DC Comics, 1993): comic book characters die and come back all the time; it’s pretty much a staple of the medium. I guess Jean Grey/Phoenix is probably the most famous, but they’ve all done at some point (even if, like in my Batman example earlier, sometimes they don’t actually die). Anyway, Superman died, very famously, after getting into a tremendous barney with genetically-engineered super-git Doomsday (as famously, and atrociously, depicted in Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice). The whole “Death of Superman” arc is interesting and entertaining as an example of mid-nineties big-panel EXTREME storytelling: as the issues tick down to the fateful scrap in Metropolis, the number of panels-per-page is reduced until the final issue is basically just full of splash pages. It’s a terrific, exhilarating rumble, really selling the heft of the confrontation. Interestingly, the comic spends a lot of time afterwards dealing with life without Superman, as a raft of imitators/wannabe successors emerge from the woodwork; these include the best-ever Superboy, Conner Kent, and Steel, who’s basically Superman meets Iron Man. Eventually, of course, Superman comes back, his body essentially having been sent to a Kryptonian day spa to recuperate; he emerges clad in black and with a mullet, so death obviously has some lasting repercussions. Overall, it’s a whopping arc with long-term consequences, and whilst it’s easy to make Christ parallels when discussing Superman, this story doesn’t really hew that way (unlike the Snyder-verse which really goes all-in on that plot point, much to the films’ detriment). One of the better aspects is how, even in death, Superman is an inspiration, which in itself has a long trail; leading, eventually, to Batman’s famous withering diss, “the last time you inspired someone was when you where dead.” Anyway, I’ve gone on about this far too long.

Spock (Star Trek III: The Search for Spock, 1984): let’s start by acknowledging just how great Spock’s death is in Wrath of Khan. As a plot point within the film, as a piece of staging and performance, and as a landmark moment in this franchise, it was seminal; a death for the ages (as an aside, it’s crazy to think Star Trek as a whole was only sixteen years old when Spock died; the MCU was eleven when Tony Stark clicked the bucket). Anyway, they built an entire film around how to bring him back, and Spock as we know him is absent for much of it; a presence looming over everything as he rapidly ages, going through his Vulcan super-puberty and everything. It’s actually a rather sombre film as Kirk’s son is killed and the Enterprise blows up; bringing back Spock comes with a very real cost. Trek III is not one of the top-tier films – in the loose trilogy that comprises Khan, Spock, and The Voyage Home it’s certainly the weakest – but it’s still pretty good, often underrated. And, of course, it brings back Spock, which is nice.

Agent Coulson (Marvel’s Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., 2013): Coulson’s death in Avengers comes as a huge shock, one of the fan-favourite characters being brutally offed in surprising fashion. In a film chock full of super-people, it’s the ordinary guy who buys it tragically. However, did any of us really think he was dead-dead? And so barely a year later he pops back up in the TV series Agents of SHIELD. However, his reincarnation became a recurring plot point; his references to spending time in Tahiti (“It’s a magical place”) becoming increasingly sinister as we come to understand even he doesn’t know how he’s back up and running. The eventual truth – Nick Fury using painful and transformative alien tech to basically bring Coulson back to life – may be a bit underwhelming, but it gave Clark Gregg a lot of meat to chew on dramatically speaking, and it underscored a lot of his character development going forward (especially when he, yes, died again, and then sort-of came back, twice).

Buffy Summers (Buffy the Vampire Slayer, 2001): full disclosure: I never watched Buffy religiously. I think I just missed it at the start and it was only when all my friends were talking about how great it was that I started tuning in more regularly. Weirdly, I think the most I watched it was around the time Buffy died and came back. It’s fascinating, really, and full credit to the show for the way they explored it; in a series full of magic, the afterlife, and the undead, bringing a character back to life isn’t too shocking. Willow, Buffy’s witchy mate, resurrects her with magic; but in an excellent twist, it turns out that she was in Heaven, and is super pissed off to be pulled out of paradise and stuck back on Earth, leading to her feeling depressed and alienated all season. That’s a great hook for bringing a character back, and leads to some meaty stuff for Sarah Michelle Geller to do.

Agent Smith (The Matrix Reloaded, 2003): do you ever feel that The Matrix has slipped from popular culture a little bit? Twenty years ago it was ascendent, rivalling Lord of the Rings for the title of “the new Star Wars”. Everyone was copying it. but now hardly anyone talks about it. probably because it hasn’t had a multimedia shelf-life comprising dozens of games and spin-off shows. Maybe the new film will change that. But I digress; Hugo Weaving is tremendous as Agent Smith in the first film, and is exploded at the end (spoilers) by Keanu Reeves’ Neo. Unsurprisingly – especially as he’s, well, just bits of code – he’s back in the sequel. However, he’s now been corrupted; he becomes, basically, a virus, self-replicating and threatening not just our heroes but the Matrix itself. This builds across two films, as Neo has to fight dozens of Smiths in the famous “Burly Brawl”, before the final conflict in The Matrix Revolutions when it seems everyone in the program has been Smithed. It offers Weaving a lot of scenery to chew on and makes for some great set-piece battles, even if the films themselves are a little disappointing.

Olaf (Frozen II, 2019): let’s not beat around the bush here – Olaf carks it in Frozen II. Okay, maybe Elsa dies; maybe Anna dies in the first film. They’re frozen, right, but I feel like it’s “magic ice” and there’s something going on there. Do they come back to life or were they ever really dead? Anyway, Elsa is effectively “gone” but we get a protracted death scene for the comic relief talking snowman. He literally fades away, slowly dying in Anna’s arms, and melts into a flurry of snow that blows away. People talk about Bambi’s mum all the time, but mark my words; “Olaf’s death” is going to be cited as a major traumatic incident for twenty-year-olds in 2030. His resurrection, truth be told, is slightly less great, Elsa just straight-up bringing him back to life, reminding us that “water has memory” to let us know that it’s the same Olaf and he remembers everything (including, presumably, dying? That’s creepy). And that, to be honest, is where I draw the line; sentient wind and rock monsters I can handle, but we all know homeopathy is bollocks.

Emperor Palpatine (Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, 2019): look, I hate this. But let’s deal with it anyway, because I have a funny feeling it’s going to lead to some quite interesting stories being told in spin-off Star Wars fiction. I personally feel quite strongly that Palpatine should have stayed dead. And maybe he did? We are led to believe that the Palpatine we see in Rise is a clone; there are jars of stilted Snokes floating in the background. He’s all knackered and broken, eyes blackened and fingers dropping off; clearly he’s not well. So is he really the same character at all? Is his Sith essence somehow fed into this new body, the way Prime’s mind is downloaded from a floppy disk (“run prime.exe”)? Let’s say it counts, let’s say he’s the same slimy Palps we know and love. He is, at least, a sinister presence, and like I say, the whys and wherefores of how he came to be back is quite interesting. There’s a fascinating story to be told about the rise of Snoke and the seduction of Ben Solo – a more interesting story than anything told in The Rise of Skywalker, for starters. Moff Gideon in The Mandalorian seems to be researching cloning and seeks to extract midichlorians from a Force-sensitive being; are we to conclude that this in service of making a new body for the Emperor? All this – stuff hinted at but not explored in the film itself – is, like I say, interesting if not outright fascinating. And I agree, there is a certain degree of circularity in bringing back the series’ Big Bad for the final instalment. But I still feel, hand on heart, that it undoes a lot of the victory of Return of the Jedi (as did The Force Awakens, if I’m honest), as well as throwing away all the development of Rey and Kylo in The Last Jedi. So: Palpatine is cool, his presence and backstory in Rise of Skywalker is suitably creepy and interesting, but on the whole it’s crap and they shouldn’t have brought him back. The end.

Ten people who definitely died and definitely un-died! What could be more Easter-y? Honourable mention goes to the episode of Red Dwarf where Rimmer changes history and ends up not being a hologram, only to accidentally blow himself up in the final seconds.

#top ten #dead characters #alive characters #easter #back from the dead #resurrection

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beautifulterriblequeen · 4 years

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What if moonshadow elves lost knowledge about themselves?

Hello, hope you have a nice day ! :D

(wait, is it day, for you?) hem! Anyway.

I was analylzing Moonshadow elves again and now I’m asking myself something, wonder what you would think about it:

Remember my “epiphany about the moon arcanum”?, when I said there’s maybe another side of their arcanum Moonshadow elves don’t know about? Something more life-light related:hope.

At first I said “they don’t know about” without really thinking about it. But, what if it’s true? I mean, what if there truly is a part they don’t know about their arcanum, or maybe forgot along the years? What if the war made Moonshadow elves focus so much on death-kill and all they kinda…. lost some of their knowledge about themselves?

(I think I remember one of your old analysis (I think it was you, I can’t find it anymore), where you compared “young ethari” in the endcredits to the actual one. Where we saw him first doing jewelry, full of hope about life, and the actual one who let that aside to focus on the war)

Add to this their community is described as “really close-knit”, which means more or less isolationism and so a stagnant, unable to evolve society. A society where the same rules were applied for centuries and so inevitably lost their deep meaning with time.

I thought it was maybe exaggerated to think this way, but then I remembered the creators said there is 5000years of history in TDP. Even with longer lifespan, there’s no way elves didn’t forget some things with time. (I compare this situation to another one: some discoveries were recently made in egypt, and we learned that a few thousands years ago egyptian themselves re-discovered things they had discovered several centuries prior and forgot)

So I tried to find proof in the show and the novelization, and guess what? We have some! (or, well, it’s more my HC, but as I said, it’ just a theory)

I think this way especially because of Runaan, who was so sure there was “only one way to release”. But then, Zym came and cut Rayla’s ribbon. My personal HC on this is that only the life who was supposed to be avenged can release the assassin from the binding. It would make sense when you know Moonshadow elves “take life but they do not take it lightly”. But even if I’m mistaking, the central fact is that there is more than one way and, clearly, Moonshadow elves don’t know it (if the leader of the assassins doesn’t, then who could?)

What I find interesting here, is that Runaan recites this ritual at the beginning, about how precious life is, like a litany but the way he insists (especially in the novel) about killing Ezran even after he saw the egg, could be the proof it’s just that, a ritual. A ritual whose words lost all their sense, their deep meaning for his people.

Ok, it’s not much, but I think the combination of isolationism, stucking to rules without understanding them deeply and time, is the perfect recipe to lose your way, no?

Oh, and a crazy other point in between these two theories about “hope” and “lost knowledge” woud be: If there is another aspect of the moon, other elves more hope-related (like Ethari or Rayla), why not another form?

Like sunfire elves have heat and light-being mode, Moonshadow elves could have something else too?. It’s probably stupid, I’m only thinking this way because of how Rayla feels while in moonshadow form in the novelization. It’s not that she hates it or something, but it makes her feel dizzy, as if she wasn’t suited for this. And if not, maybe it’s because she’s suited for another form?

(sorry, I hope I’m coherent on this one, I’m a little exhausted and my thoughts are a little messy ^^’)

______________

Okay, @lily-lilou, just let me catch my breath, this whole thing is a ride and I loved it. We definitely vibing here, fam.

whew

Okay, from the top, because I’ve had a lot of these thoughts myself and I’m so stoked to see someone else independently coming up with them!

Yes 100% to Moonshadows losing a part of their own history. (And yeah, I do have a post somewhere on Ethari’s evolution. Probably called it that iirc) If we’re right about Moonshadows having lived in Katolis before the lands were divided, living right near their own Nexus as the Sunfires still do, then when they packed up and left, it’s very possible they literally couldn’t bring everything with them.

I have a quirky little hc that there are still, to this day, Moonshadow villages hiding behind ancient protection spells in Katolis, and that people wander past them every day and have no idea. But it’s one thing not to be able to pack up your actual village. It’s another to leave behind records of your people’s past, their accomplishments and dealings and discoveries.

*eyes Lujanne’s truly massive library, with its huge walls covered in runes and books* This is where the full history of the Moonshadow people probably is kept. And no one has access to it but her.

Those who headed east would only know what they carried with them, and what was handed down orally through the generations. But see, if my headcanon about the Moonshadow assassins being created at that time ends up being true, then that’s probably bad news for history and truth. When you create a whole new class within your culture, you need to bolster it with ideology. You use myth, cultural norms, and current events to make it seem important.

You tell everyone that being an assassin is the most honorable job there is. And then it’s suddenly cool to be an assassin.

If there were no Moonshadow assassins before the humans were booted out west, then everything Runaan says to Rayla, everything he believes, is pretty young compared to his people’s full history, which he may not know, at least in its true and undistorted form. It’s an illusion. Rhetoric. Propaganda meant to hold soft elves who deeply value life to the hardest task they’ll ever undertake: taking that life from another, for a cause they cannot turn away from, a purpose they are culturally indebted to. Because their people, their princess (?), was the one who asked for the humans to be spared, and so every mistake the humans make from that point on is the Moonshadow elves’ duty to handle.

Runaan was wrong about how many ways there are to release. Has Zym truly been the only victim who wasn’t actually dead, in a whole thousand years? Honestly, probably not, knowing how politics works. But see, if you have an elite squad devoted to serving Xadia, and you tell them that their hands will literally fall off and they will die if they don’t do their jobs because there is only one way to release the ribbon they’re honor-bound to wear, they will take their target or die trying. And if you maybe exaggerated reports of the victim’s death for political purposes and actually have them in a dungeon, or they fled to the human lands as a refugee, or any number of other squirrelly options that Moonshadows aren’t naturally inclined to consider, then you can literally get away with murder-by-proxy. Or containment. Or intimidation. Or whatever your purpose is in taking out a human target who may or may not even be guilty of the crime you allege against them. It might not even be Zubeia and Avizandum’s fault. Unless they can detect truth and lies, they can be deceived by someone unscrupulous with an agenda of their own.

Long paragraph long, there are a lot of problems with the existence and practical duties of Moonshadow assassins. They’re kind of like the War Doctor: born form conflict, and thus only able to serve it, instead of peace. Yes, we all want Runaan to get his happy ending, retire, go home to his soft husband. But really, the whole institution of the assassins needs to go. It was born of war, and if Xadia and the human lands make peace, truly, then the assassins should be dissolved. As I said in one of my fics, Moonshadow assassins are Xadia’s dark magic, turning death into power. It’s gotta stop on both sides.

One of my oneshots for January’s Ruthari Week played with the idea of Ethari having a moonform instead of a shadowform, because yes to elves having two kinds of forms in each culture! I would love to see that for all the elves. And if we use Sunfire elves as a kind of roadmap, with “sun” and “fire” being the heat- and light-beings, then maybe the other elves get their two forms from their names as well. Or so my headcanon went for that fic: a moon form to balance the shadow form, where the elf’s body can glow like the full moon. I didn’t really touch on what that form’s ability would be, but I suppose, logically, it would serve as a portable full moon, powering other nearby Moonshadows even when the moon was down, or new, or a small crescent.

Okay, that’s just fun. I like that idea a lot. The only time “just stand there and look pretty” can be used as a battle tactic!

I can see Rayla getting to have the rare Moonshadow power. That would make her a good balance for Callum and his unusual arcanum as a human. Part misfit, part superpower. It would also probably be a power that puts her closer to Ethari’s soft and protective attitude, no matter what the power really is, since the assassins in Moonshadow culture have clearly adopted their natural shadowy form as a mission tactic, attacking specifically on full moon nights. Literally any other kind of power is probably going to be softer, lighter, more lively and bright, in concept if not literally so. Maybe the other power kicks in on new moons? or is available at any time? I really hope we get a second Moonshadow power of some kind. I am down for all the extra worldbuilding!

Thanks once again for your thoughts! *fist bump* Moonshadow elves. You get it.

#asks #tdp speculatoin #tdp headcanons #moonshadow elves #rayla #runaan #callum #submission

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