#its already bad enough that celia Knows Something For Sure

[atlas-five]

either Alice is absolutely fucking done for or she's about to tgirl swag her way through The Horrors (As Yet To Be Seen™) and I'm honestly terrified to find out

[gayfrenchtoast]

Okay fine we're doing this. I havent read the books and I'm probably not going to I've only seen the movies so I'm sorry if anything I say is contradictory or has already been stated.

So! Descendants 3 was kinda shit and I dont like it but especially because of the ending because everybody was like "oh yeah island is open and we're all happy with no worries or implications about free villains or people being spiteful about being imprisoned for years!" In fact if anything they joked about those things.

The island is basically its own culture, I can't say how long it's been around, long enough for some almost adult kids to be about and to develop a kind of community.

The Isle is a place of poverty, people are dirty and on the street, eveyone steals from each other and most people don't put much effort into appearance upkeep (personal or of the sourounding area) not because of laziness or being "evil" but because they clearly don't have time or luxury to do such things or possibly even the clean water. Does the Isle have clean water?? How to they get electricity??? Someone tell me!

Another thing that I've noticed is easy to see but is not much explicitly said is the unique style of those on the Isle. As previously stated they don't have much but those who have the most "power" and such on the Isle are the best example of this As they have the most colourful outfits. However these outfits are often made out of patches and ripped things put together, even salvaged things like nets and chains as we can see on thing like Uma and Harry's outfits in D3 they make the best of what they've got and they do fantastic because their outfits are intricate and detailed and just tell you everything you need to know about them. Which is why it's a damn s h a m e when the original VK's ajust their style to be more like Auradon's. That's not an improvement! Be proud of where you came from!! It's like they forgot what it was like being on the Isle in D3!

Moving on, here's something that was touched on in D2 but not enough. Equality. On the Isle there is basically equal opportunity as in saying everything is shit and nome cares what gender and presumably what sexuality you are as long as you can work. Sexism is shown to be almost casual in aurodon from the looks of it, Chad makes sexist comments and litterally none else says anything or seems to see anything wrong with it except Jay who caves to pressure from peers and expectations. He does redeem himself because he's from the isle and he knows you shouldn't give a shit about anyone's gender or anything. If they can do something and ask to be included you give them that opportunity. The sexism is also implied in the way that the rule book has men written specifically in the first place and that it has taken until then for anyone but boys to be allowed on any kind of sports team. We never see it! It seems to be the hetronormative veiw where the boys do sport and girls do cheerleeding and other genders? What other genders? Never heard of that? BAD AURADON!! I bet there's so many trans folk on the island just living their lives, thinking Aurodon is the better place and not knowing that it's a cis het filled nightmare.

Okay no I'm headcannoning now, if their are now a bunch of Isle kids at auradon prep they find it fucking aweful the way all these preppy royals are treating them and make the first LGBT club in Auradon. There is lots of pushback and they get bullied a fuck ton for making themselves the most prominent queer folk in the school until a fight breaks out and the club demand that they should be treated better, taking all the evidence to fairy godmother who is very hesitant because COME ON she's never been that great she is biased to Auradon kids and if putting away those in the Isle is brought up she is all on it, she is jelly spined about doing anything against the royal kids. So the kids are like "Fine, if you won't help us we'll take this to the King himself!" Well mainly the queer mom's of the group (you know the ones I'm talking about) who lead the others and protect the anxious queers as they storm to Ben at his fucking locker and demand an audience because they are being harassed and bullied and none is doing anything. Ben had no idea there was even a LGBT club (too busy ig) and is gassed there is one for a moment before he's like "wait people are harassing you?" So Bisexual King Ben gets his lovely Bi wife and they start coming to club meetings and investing in the pins and stuff the club makes. Most club members are pleased but the queer mom's are apprehensive that this will help until some assholes come to the club to do their usual bullying only to find King and Queen Beast themselves siting there with rainbow bracelets and bi pins and all trying to have a nice old time eating their fucking cupcakes what the fuck are yall doing? The bullying dies down quick once they realise it ain't gonna fly, the other OG VK's that hear about this become members and very protective over their queer children. Did I mention Dizzy and Ceila are a part of the club? They're girlfriend's. Celia is one of the queer moms. Harry becomes one of the biggest protectors over the group as the pan dad. He's been going around snogging everyone and anyone wholl snog him everyone already knew he was queer they just didn't have the balls to try and bully him over it as much as they bullied the lil club members. But now Harry can often be seen in jackets and shit with pan and general queer patches and pins and running around with his gay children yelling "MOVE WE'RE GAY!!" He totally calls them his queer crew. Anyway as a result lots of queer royals start coming out of the woodwork, obvs Lonnie is one of them, and the club eventually serves to bring members of Auradon and the Isle close together.

Where was I? Yada yada auradon expects girls to be pretty princesses and boys to be brave knights or dashing princes. It's shit and should stop being portrayed as good. Moving on!

Food! One of the things we'll established in all movies is that the food of the Isle is shit compared to food of Auradon. The Isle has no fresh fruit which likely means its almost impossible for things to grow there which is fair because again there doesn't seem to be much fresh water and there are always clouds overhead so no sun. Maybe there is some people trying really hard to grow stuff but the general attitude of the Isle seems to be "there is no time for that" and fruits are forgotten so much that the VK's litterally don't knownwhat they are when they come across them. That and anything containing sugar. Actually it's mention by Dizzy and Celia that they enjoy the fact that the cake dosent have dirt or flies so basically food there is terrible. We don't see much food on the Isle but what we do see seems to be beans, eggs, chips and shellfish. Basically protine and carbs that can be easily stored and produced. To be fair beans are kidna good for you but they're likely a sign that if they get any imports from the mainland it is canned stuff. Prison food. There's probably some chef villain that is trying their best to make good food out of the shit but honestly the Isle dwellers should be angry that they've been deprived of good food for so long not happy they're finally been given decency.

Moving on, music! Auradon dosent have nearly as many musical numbers it seems, the Isle songs have a distinct style, to them, the villains that basically "founded" the place were masters of the dramatic songs (with backup or solo) so banging music is basically ingrained in the music's culture, even for battle as we see with the fight between Mal and Uma in D3. Meanwhile Auradon seems to have mainly romance and "I want" songs. Even Audrey's villain song is basically an I want song.

Okay let's talk about the Villains. We've established that the VK's are not inherently bad. However not all of them can be totally good and there are legit OG Villains just kinda chillin on the Isle. They've obviously lost quite a bit of their power, motivation and sanity (isolation will do that to ya as they lost everything and the VKs know no different) but deadass? They were bad guys. You can try to rehabilitate them sure but you've basically just let them free roam, they could make a runner and you wouldn't get the chance. They were also shitty patents which is brushed over/joked about in the interaction between Carlos and...man I feel bad I forgot her name deadass their relationship seemed to come out of nowhere in the second film she didn't seem interested in them at all and friendzoned them multiple times I'm pretty sure Disney did that becaue queer kids were relating to Carlos and headcanoning them as queer (which they deffinatly are) but deadass their mom is an attempted animal murderer and has hurt her child as we can see from how they're afraid of her and her rhetoric and yet it's "haha I'm afraid to meet your ma!" "Me too cus im a dog! Lol!" Fuuuuck offfffff

I think I'm running out of thoughts so here's a last one for now; with the magical barrier down a bunch of magical Villains kids should be coming out for the woodwork. We know Mal has magic basically stored in her so it's is possible, she technically doesn't need the spellbook to do magic it is just inherent to her. So with the diverse range of people from the isle there are deffinatly magic folk in there. Actually if we're following Disney movie law I saw something mentioning Jay being half Genie and yeah! He should be half Genie! Jafar got turned into a Genie he's probably only human because of the barrier! Oh also Ben should be able to go beast on command as long as he had a better beast form than he did in the movies. And give him back the beard and fangs like fuck you he looked so much better

Okay I'm done for now

[elisajdb]

GoChi Week 2021: A Fulfilled Life: Part Two

GoChi Week 2021

A Fulfilled Life

Day Two Prompt: Romantic @gochi-week

Goku added another log of wood to the dying fire. The flames grew twice its size from the thick log. Goku hoped that will be enough. It was the last one. He could go out and get more firewood but he promised to stay here and watch Celia. When Goku made a promise, he kept it.

Celia laid nearby on a futon wrapped in a blanket. Her sudden coughing had Goku rushing to her side. “Are you all right? Do you need anything?”

Celia cleared her hoarse throat. “You’re so kind. If I were well, I would cook you a meal. Seeing you eat, always makes me happy. You’re so adorable.”

“Adorable?”

“It means kind; you make people feel good. No one has reacted the way you have to my cooking.” Celia’s sickly smile was tender. “You eat every morsel and you’re always hungry for more. You’re special.”

Goku was used to being called names. Most were of criticism. Very rare he received praised for being himself and he received a lot from Celia. Celia was a kind woman. She fed him yummy meals and mended his clothes. When she fell ill, Goku did all he could to accommodate her. Goku never got sick but saw it happen to Master Roshi, Krillin and Lunch but Celia appeared sicker. Last night she was burning up and this morning she woke with chills and couldn’t move from her futon. If something wasn’t done soon, she’ll die and Goku didn’t want that to happen to a kind woman like Celia.

The cabin door burst open. A man in a bearskin coat, matching hat, knitted scarf and gloves walked in. He had a large sack over his right shoulder and logs of wood under his left arm. He kicked the door shut to keep the cold air out.

“How’s Celia, Goku?”

Goku took the logs of wood from the burly, bearded man. He stacked them by the fireplace. “Still sick. She looks really bad, Silas.”

Silas set down his sack and removed his hat and scarf as he approached Celia. Goku stared at the two confused. Celia was ill but the way Celia and Silas smiled at each other reminded Goku of those weird movies blue-haired Lunch loved to watch. She always cried watching them. Silas touched Celia’s forehead with his gloved hand. “You’re burning up again. Sorry I took so long to get back to you.”

Goku saw Celia wrap her sweaty hands around Silas’s gloved one. Celia didn’t allow any direct touching in fear she will spread her sickness to him and Silas. “You’re here now, Silas.”

“I have the medicine to cure you. I’ll make it now.” Silas grabbed his heavy bag and carried it to the kitchen. “I’ll need your help, Goku.” Silas placed the bag on the table. Goku climbed onto the seat and stood on it to peer inside the bag Silas opened.

A foul stench latched itself onto Goku’s nose. He covered his nose with his hands to protect himself but the strong scent penetrated his hands. “Yuck! What stinks?”

Silas pulled out a variety of green and color plants and wet, squishy dark red organs. “This is medicine for Celia, Goku. These plants are medicinal herbs: yellow root, echinacea, elderberry, hyssop, lemongrass and catnip. This squishy flesh is liver from bear and boar. It’s all around these mountains. It’s better than the chemical medicines used in the big cities.”

The foul stench made Goku’s head hurt. “It stinks!”

Silas grabbed a mortar and pestle. “It does. City medicines don’t have a stench. Chemicals are used to drown the smell. It makes their medicine less effective.” Silas placed the yellow root in the mortar. He began mashing it with the pestle. “Watch and learn, Goku. You may have to use this to cure someone you love one day.”

Goku wiped the sweat off his forehead. He did everything from memory: mashed the plants he collected in the mortar and pestle until they were fine crumbs, drained the blood from the bear and boar liver and boil for an hour; transfer the livers in another pot and boil again for another hour with the crushed herbs.

While that cooked, Goku made chicken soup from a recipe in the cooking books ChiChi sometimes used. He mentally thanked ChiChi for showing him to use appliances and kitchen utensils a year ago when Gohan was a newborn and she needed extra help around the house. The soup was finished an hour before the medicine was ready. Goku spent that time cleaning the kitchen. It was a mess with dirt and animal blood on the floor and table. The counter was covered with messy bowls and stains of food. If ChiChi saw this mess, she’ll kill him. Grabbing a soapy towel, Goku started his big clean. He occasionally looked up to check on Gohan in the other room.

The two-year-old sat on the sofa, clutching his stuffed rabbit engrossed with the talking animals on TV. He was wide awake. After Goku fed Gohan breakfast, he placed Gohan in a carrier and attached him on his back. He’ll take it to his grave he gathered herbs and killed wild animals while Gohan napped on his back. It was either take Gohan with him or leave him unattended at home while ChiChi slept. ChiChi was so ill she couldn’t get out of bed so Goku made a hasty decision. It was all for ChiChi’s health but Goku knew ChiChi wouldn’t see it that way if she knew the truth.

Goku finished mopping the floor when the timer on the stove beeped. Goku turned off the shrilled sound. He raised the lid off the pot. “Ugh!” he groaned. The scent was putrid. “Guess it’s ready.”

Goku filled a mug of the smelly brew. Remembering Silas’ final instructions, he sprinkled cinnamon and stirred to mute the foul scent. Now it was time for the final test. Goku blew on the mug. His lips touched the top of the mug but before he could taste the liquid contents, Goku pulled back.

“Argh!” The cinnamon didn’t help at all! “It still smells like dookie!”

Pinching his nose, Goku sipped the liquid and quickly spat it out. Still bitter and foul; exactly as it should be.

Goku heard ChiChi coughing heavily as he entered their bedroom. He cautiously walked in carrying a tray with a bowl of soup and a mug with a saucer plate covering it. “ChiChi, I got something for you.”

ChiChi groaned as she pulled the covers off her face. She felt as if she was hit by a truck. Her body ached, her head throbbed and her throat was sore. ChiChi sat up and pushed her messy hair back.  She thought she was delirious. Goku held a tray of food. Was this for her? “Did you cook?”

Goku placed the tray on the nightstand. “Just medicine and soup.” Goku handed ChiChi the mug.

“Medicine?” ChiChi noticed the mug had a saucer plate over it. She lifted the saucer, “Why is this…. Ugh!” ChiChi closed it. “It’s ghastly. What is this?”

“Medicine. Drink it. It stinks but it will make you better. I promise.”

ChiChi removed the saucer and immediately recoiled. “Urrgh! How do you know it will make me better?” ChiChi sipped and pulled back. She shuddered as some of the liquid went down her throat. “I taste yellow root and lemongrass. Ugh. This smells like a dead animal.”

Goku knew ChiChi would throw the mug back at him if she knew liver from boar and bear helped created this concoction. “Fresh stuff and herbs I picked outside. When I trained for the 22nd tournament, I met Silas and Celia. They live in the mountains south of Yunzabit Heights. I got the recipe from them.”

“Who are Silas and Celia?”

“A married couple. I was living outside when Silas found me hunting dinner. It was winter and he didn’t think it was right for a kid to be living outside. I told him I can take care of myself but he insisted and invited me to his home for a meal. I stayed with them for a month before I moved on. Grandpa taught me some things, too, but I forgot. Silas showed me what plants to pick, what to eat and how to create herbs to season any meat I hunt. When Celia got sick, he made medicine with plants and stuff around his home.”

ChiChi looked skeptically at the mug. “Did it work?”

“Yeah,” Goku nodded. “It stinks but Celia was better the next day. She’s a nice lady. She made a lot of yummy food for me and fixed my clothes whenever I tore them. I think she was really nice to me because she and Silas didn’t have kids.”

ChiChi stared at the putrid liquid. After hearing that story, there was no way she could reject this. She pinched her nose and drunk the hot, smelly liquid in four gulps. She made a gagging sound as she handed the empty mug to Goku. “I hope it works.” She rubbed her throat. The aftertaste was horrific!

“Time for the good stuff,” Goku said as he handed ChiChi the soup.

This pleasing smell of the hot soup made ChiChi’s mouth water. “Is this my reward for drinking the stinky medicine?”

“Yup. Silas did this for Celia, too.”

“And you’re doing this for me,” she whispered. For several moments, ChiChi stared at the soup.

When she tasted it, Goku saw tears roll down ChiChi’s cheeks. “What?” he panicked. “Is it bad? Did I put too much salt?”

“No. Nothing’s wrong,” ChiChi sniffed. “This is so sweet. I didn’t know you were a romantic, Goku.”

“Romantic?” Goku knew that word. It always tied with flowers and doing nice gestures. Romantic didn’t tie to medicine and food. “I just made medicine and soup.”

“You did,” ChiChi cried, “but it’s more than that. You remembered something years ago to take care of me.”

“Yeah?” Goku drawled slowly still not seeing what he did as romantic. It was practical. ChiChi’s sick and Goku thought of some medicine he felt will cure her. How was that romantic?

ChiChi stirred the hot soup with a spoon before taking a bite. “Mmm,” she moaned. This was so good and what she needed to wash down the nasty medicine! “Delicious. This is the best soup I’ve ever tasted!”

“It is?” Goku tasted it. It was okay but not as good as the soup ChiChi makes. Maybe this cold weakened ChiChi’s sense of taste.

ChiChi wasn’t sure if the medicine was working but her mood was lifting at the wonderful gesture of her sweet and romantic husband. “Where’s Gohan? Did you feed him this wonderful soup, too?”

“Not the soup but Gohan’s already eaten breakfast and lunch. He’s watching TV now.”

ChiChi groaned. Gohan was only allowed an hour of TV time a day and she knew Goku broke that rule. “Did you put Gohan in front of the TV all day?”

“Yeah,” Goku knew ChiChi would be upset with that, “but he’s watching those educational videos. I had to distract him while I made your medicine and soup.”

“Okay.” ChiChi accepted that excuse. After this sweet gesture from her husband, ChiChi couldn’t be mad at Goku today.

Goku kept ChiChi company until she finished her meal. When he left, the concoction of the medicine finally got to her. She fell asleep at three in the afternoon and didn’t awaken until thirteen hours later.

Her throat wasn’t sore; her nose wasn’t stuffy, her body didn’t ache. She didn’t feel sick at all.

The medicine worked.

For the first time in two days, ChiChi got out of bed. She felt great! She was so happy to be strong enough to cook and clean again for her family, and after the way Goku took care of her, ChiChi wanted to give him a big meal and later tonight, show her thanks in her own personal way.

However, with Goku running the house these last two days, ChiChi knew she had a big task on her hands. Her house. Her kitchen. How much of a mess did Goku leave for her?

To ChiChi’s surprise, the kitchen was spotless. The floor was mopped clean. There were no food stains on the table, counter or refrigerator. All the dishes were put away in their correct spots. ChiChi was impressed. Goku was never this clean. The few times Goku cooked, ChiChi was left to clean the tsunami mess he left behind.

ChiChi went to the living room next. This was Goku’s bedroom for the last two days. When she became ill, ChiChi kicked Goku out of their bedroom. She didn’t want to risk him getting sick. If she and Goku were sick, who will care for Gohan? The television was off but the lamplight was still on. This room wasn’t as neat as the kitchen but ChiChi’s heart melted as she understood why. Goku slept on the sofa with Gohan on his chest. Her baby’s tiny hands clutched Goku’s shirt as he peacefully slept. An opened baby book was sprawled over Goku’s face and papers were on the floor. ChiChi knelt and picked up the papers. They were folded like a card. ChiChi opened one. Her eyes watered at the words inside.

‘Get well soon, Mommy!’ With it, was a crude drawing of their happy family. Gohan could write some letters but they weren’t completely legible and he couldn’t form words yet. Goku’s education was limited but he did know how to read and write basic words and he wrote the following notes on the makeshift card.

Mommy always takes care of Daddy and me.

She gives good baths and makes yummy food.

When Mommy is sick, Daddy takes over.

Because Daddy loves Mommy like Silas loves Celia.

ChiChi clutched the card to her chest and softly wept.

Oh, Goku. You are a romantic.

[gunmetalarchived]

winner takes it all; pt 1 | a discord thread with @epiitaphs + @consultingsister

ALEX

It had been 48 hours since she had last closed her eyes, and they stung with exhaustion. Alex couldn’t tear them away from the door though, knowing what was coming. She was about to watch her life fall apart, for the third time.

It would play out something similar to the events of two days earlier. He would be hauled in, bag over his head and hands bound together with multiple zip ties. They only managed to catch her because her weakness was known. They were monitoring Sams home, watching for any trace of the prize they were after, Sam still had the alarming bruise on the left side of his face where he had been knocked unconscious. They were tied up and transported to the government black site, to here. Where she had no real choice but to sign away her life in the hopes it might keep her family safe too. She had turned out Sams rational protest at the sordid series of events to state Mycroft dead in the eye. She knew a predator when she locked eyes with one. This wasn’t a rescue attempt, it was a death sentence. But once she could live with. 

From the other side of the mirrored glass, she watched that door unblinking. She could have been in that room, she could have taken him in herself. Yet she knew for certain if there wasn’t a bulletproof layer between them then Sebastian would kill her. He still might, given the chance. He still saw the red flags throughout his time with Moriarty as little romantic hints. He had no objectivity, although he had no reason to either. Why fear the man when killing you would be such a heavenly way to die?

She had told Sam to go home, promised she wouldn’t be far behind. He had the destruction to pick up after their flat had been raised by swat teams. He didn’t need to watch what was about to happen, he deserved more than that. Seeing a cornered caged animal was horrifying in itself but when it was someone you knew? Someone you cared about? This was something Alex needed to bare alone.

Or with whoever opened the door she had her back to.

SHERLOCK

Perhaps it was because he didn’t believe that he had ended up in hell. It had more filing cabinets than he imagined. More interrogation rooms. At least Mycroft was happy. Although he didn’t smile much, he walked around with a self-satisfied air. Mycroft Holmes was not a bad man but he was perhaps petty. For example, he didn’t need to haul Alex Moran and Doctor Prescott from their home in the middle of the night. It as just because he could. Sherlock had handed over the keys to the kingdom and Mycroft was happy enough pretending to be the King. No Jim, Morland getting old; a black hole was forming and Sherlock had intended to get as many people to safety as he could before the end. Only, watching Alex give nothing for six hours didn’t exactly feel like safety. Mycroft taking more than he needed because he could wasn’t what he wanted. Maybe he was the clever one, he certainly got everything he wanted. 

Sherlock was tired. He thought he might sleep more when he was dead. In the hours since Alex had agreed to everything Sherlock had done nothing but stare at a laptop screen, read through documents and guess at where to find Sebastian Moran. At least this one, he considered, would be satisfying. 

For a moment, he stood in the hallway, one door to his left (soon, they would bring in Sebastian, shine a spotlight on his face and demand from him) and to his right, the safety of the observation room. Maybe he could sit and sleep for the next twenty-minutes. Only, when he opened the door the feeling of lightning shot through him, energising him. That bastard. How could Mycroft not tell him; how could he allow him, after all their planning, to just walk in on her again. 

It was panic that tightening around his throat. He could hardly close the door and walk away now. He didn’t want to either. “Alex?” His voice was hoarse, unused for days, only to give an address for Seb. “Alex, I didn’t-- I had no idea--”

ALEX

She expected.... well, she didn't know that what she had expected. But certainly not a man who had called her, who she had watched die. She had seen it, seem him plummet to his death through the scope. That definitely wasn't a trick, nor was the voicemail that sounded so genuine. It had been two months of complete silence. She had watched her back, watched her brothers back, watched Sam struggle from afar all hoping beyond hope that there would be a chance of it being a mistake. Except as she stared into those big green eyes she felt nothing but pure rage. How dare he?

He said her name like he hadn't said much in years. Almost six years exactly. He had held her through the night and known it was going to be goodbye. And she had buried the person that loved him since then. Years of dodging direct contact, of trying to stay just out of sight to save face. And now he stood right in front of her, defying all logic.

She moved across the room to him as fast as physically possible, but instead of reaching out to pull him close, her balled fist connected with his jaw in a strong right hook. Her lips curled up in s snarl, half out of breath just from trying not to strangle him them and there. " Code. Fucking. Zero" was all she could manage through gritted teeth, grey eyes glaring at him with unbridled fury.

SHERLOCK

He saw it coming. Passionate was how he might describe Alex Moran. Psychotic would probably be more accurate. And he could already hear Celia saying you enjoyed her touching you too much. Only she wasn't talking to him now. Or he wasn't talking to her. He guess there was a difference. He couldn't really do anything to stop her but he didn't try. He braced himself for the pain and fell backwards, holding his jaw with a small whine. "I know-- I know." 

Sherlock rarely cried but shame crashed over him like a wave. Anger too. Why was Mycroft doing this to him? Punishment for picking Alex over Cee, maybe? He let the force of her punch carry him to the floor and he stayed there. "I am dead. I am dead. Alex you were not-- I wasn't-- I have no excuse, I was not supposed to even be in the country but that-- I needed you to--- move on." 

But she had moved on, she would go home to Sam after all this and that was exactly what he wanted. "What can I say," he was begging, "what can I do? I am so so sorry, this is not what I wanted."

ALEX

She stood there in ill fitting borrowed clothes, the t shirt she has slept in still underneath. Her hair was wild and falling out of its messy hun by now, a hot mess if she had ever looked one. She pulled back her leg to aim a kick at him on the floor, and stopped. Her shoulders heaved with heavy breaths. This was a conversation they needed to have, another time she could kick the life out of him for scaring her like that. But right now? Right now she had enough to think about. 

Alex stepped back, folding her arms across her chest. It was hardly proud, but it was something. She couldn’t look at him right now. “Keep your eyes up, if you want your brother in one piece. I’m sure as hell not saving his life.”

She wanted to wrap her arms around him, but the connection to his jaw was enough to know even in her sleep deprived state this was real. Just... one thing at a time. Get home to Sam. He needed her right now. She didn’t look at him, her eyes fixed back on the door just... waiting. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here.”

He had been the one to pick up the pieces last time. It was some kind of poetic irony he was going to get to see the creature she was so afraid of. And yet she also meant alive, or as alive as they could be. Maybe she’d be able to see his face one day without that long black coat whipping around his legs as he—

Too soon.

SHERLOCK

Sherlock didn't get up from the floor. Exhaustion was likely taking over. He had gone longer periods of time without sleep (once he conducted an experiment which included shots of adrenaline and energy drinks) but this was a different sort of tired. One knee bent, the other leg stretched out, he almost wished she would keep hitting her. Likelihood was, she had no idea what he had done, what he had agreed to before the fall, or she would have kept going.

She is mistaken into thinking he has fallen into the same trap with her. 

"I couldn't care any less about how many pieces my brother is in. I hope he tears him to shreds. Mycroft was never any good at field work; he likely won't even go in." Sherlock didn't care much for violence either way; no need for it but it never really scared him. He had also never understood Alex's fear of her brother, although he could never decide if thats because he was sure his siblings could and may kill him and had accepted it, or was sure they could not. 

They had both turned their back on him with relative ease this past month. He wondered if he had also been wrong about Alex. The punch meant so little, he hardly registered it as a mark against her. He deserved it of course, the man who would never lie to her, back from the dead. 

"Why are you? Surely Prescott will be anxious to be home with you; will seeing Sebastian help?"

ALEX

He didn’t move from his pathetic heap, and after a few silent breaths, Alex extended an arm. She wasn’t looking at him, but it was a truce. A middle ground. Because she didn’t want him dead, she just didn’t know what to feel. It was too much in the last 48 hours, the last two months. The place where her heart had been was filled with an empty numbness when she wasn’t in Sams arms. She had watched the world collapse around her too many times to have faith in anything or anyone else. Even Sherlock.

He spoke like he really meant it, like he wanted Mycroft dead. That could be arranged. No, no that was the point of all this. It was a real fresh start. Her eyes were still glued to the door as she waited for his hand. 

“Help? Nothing will help.” Why was she here? Sam did want her home, and there was no need for her to watch the consequences of her betrayal. There was never going to be a way to erase that look from her baron, knowing he would end her life given the chance. It was a totally different thing to accept it, actually seeing it meant sleepless nights and burying her heart behind a wall of steel and barbed wire. She didn’t know what the real answer was. “Why are you?”

She parroted it back at him, an old trick for deflecting he would read through in seconds.

SHERLOCK

For a moment he doesn't want to take her hand in fear that he will pass right through her. It was a fear he had since he was little, they he had died and no one, not even him had noticed. Since learning the truth from Cee, he thought he might know where this fear had come from. Still, it was silly to imagine he was a ghost. When he reached out, her hand was as solid as it ever was. 

"He ruined my life." 

It wasn't fair to give Seb all the credit on that one. Moriarty had a hand in it, his father, both his siblings. Alex to some degree but he would never think like that. He stands next to her, almost shoulder to shoulder. "I brought him in. I want to see the look on his face when he realises he has lost."

ALEX

She had pulled him to his feet before she could bite back her anger again. “Don’t. Don’t fucking talk about him like that.”

She still wouldn’t give him the benefit of her gaze. Especially not now. Sebastian had his fair share of the destruction but it wasn’t fair for him to take the blame when her hands were soaked in blood. Alex was far from innocent, and choice didn’t matter. At least she was aware of what was going on, Sebastian had all of that stripped from him. James Moriarty had found an addict and just changed the drugs for power and adoration. Same as Sherlock switched his high from heroin to danger.

She visibly flinched as Sherlock mentioned his role in all this. But she didn’t have the words to wound him, there was no victory here. No winners, only survival.

“I remember when you used to care about people. What is life without love? Where’s your fucking compassion now?” It was said in a quiet voice, hollow, empty. Exhausted and hoarse. She sounded like a shell of a person as well as looking like one. “At least he stayed sober.”

SHERLOCK

"You're a hypocrite, Moran. You can speak about my brother however you like, a man who does what he does for the good of the British public. Your brother is a murderer and a thief. Your whole family is. Do not pretend your causes were righteous; the Moran luck has run simply run out."

He had never spoken to her like this. He doubted he had spoken to anyone like this. But to hear his words, his preaching of love and forgiveness thrown back at him, the jab about his inability to stay sober, it was too much. Everything he had lost, everything he would continue to lose because of her and her family. She would gain, she couldn't see it now but she would gain as he fell further and further down a path he had been avoiding since he was seventeen. The one person, maybe the two if you counted Celia, who could save him would hate him and that was the end of it. 

"I have no compassion for men from good families and good homes who knowingly caused others pain for his own self-serving desires. The world is full of them, Sebastian is no different."

ALEX

She launched at him before she knew what she was doing, the one concession being that her forearm was pressed against his chest and not his throat. She slammed him against the glass, the flicker of pain showing in her face as her shoulder took the impact. But she glared at him, grey eyes boring into his soul now. If he still had one.

“Funny. I don’t remember you minding much when I was fucking you. Or was getting your dick wet worth putting that aside? Is that where your line is?”

She had never claimed to be anything other than a monster, he was the one looking for a chance to play saviour. He needed this as an ego boost. All that talk about caring clearly meant nothing.

“Men like you? Silver spoon up your arse and all. Where’s the good in getting high and playing dead?”

At least she was here. At least she was going to watch as her brother exploded. She slammed him again, bristling with hate now. He had no idea what it meant to lose everything, and there was a pain in her eyes he would never have seen there before. Living through hell justified anything in the name of getting out alive.

SHERLOCK

He hardly reacts. Pain shoots through his, his lower back makes contact with the border of the fake mirror but the pain feels distant from him. To die at her hand, is that the way he wanted to go?

"It was never about the sex, you know that." His fierce tone has softened; not kind, just tired. "I know what I am. I have never pretended to be a good person, I am an addict, a spoilt rich boy. I try everyday to make decisions that will benefit others. Most days I fail. But we continue on. You cannot say the same for your family. Defend them if you have to, it's your nature to do so, but do not expect me to pity your brother, or your cousins, when they are in the hell they themselves created." 

Even now, with her body weight pressed against him, he cannot lump her in with the rest of them. He knows he should. The logical side of brain says there is no difference. "I doubt Mycroft will let you kill me, he would be at risk of losing you to a prison cell if he did."

ALEX

“Neither did I.” She spat it back at him, wondering whether his cheek would come up in a nice bruise. This was so different from falling apart in his arms the last time they had been those close. It was funny to think that Alex really thought that night might be the closest she had come to death. Now she was a living breathing corpse. No passport, no records, no state and no identity. But she had a deal, a deal that could keep the few people she cared about from knowing the indefinite hell of being trapped in the same four walls with no escape. None of them knew the true extent of human cruelty. Now they might not have to.

Her hands moved from across him to his throat, but before she could apply any pressure, the door opened. The door she had been so laser focused on. In a split second she shoved him out the way, and watched as the hooded figure was bolted down to the table. Her breathing was shallow and ragged, her whole body wound so tight it was visibly stiff. Her jaw was clenched, her full attention on the person who could only be her brother. Sherlock was going to get what he wanted, he was going to see them both fall apart because he could. Because she had made every single bad choice in her life to protect the person she was loyal to above everyone, and yet he would cut her off as it was convenient.

Maybe she should have been relieved no one could find August or Bash. Maybe it was a mercy.

SHERLOCK

As she reached for his throat he thought both of how wonderful it might be to not have to live the life he had backed himself into and, with quite a different feeling, how she had once trusted him with the knowledge that she liked a hand around her throat. Nothing even close to worry occurred to him. He closed his eyes and hoped for it. 

Before she could finish him, or as was more likely, someone came in to stop her finishing him. The sound or the door opening and close came through a radio he couldn't see, although he assumed there must be a button somewhere so they could communicate. 

He stepped back from her, although instead of watching Seb, he watched her, the back of her head. Mycroft followed Seb in and Sherlock recognised the happiness in his brother's walk. Finally. The folder full of documents hit the metal table with a sharp slap and Sherlock attempted to melt into the shadows behind Alex.

SEBASTIAN

Sebastian was having a rough couple of weeks, to be honest. Alex had left - finally - having apparently decided he wasn't three steps away from an overdose at any given moment. It'd been nice. And maybe he'd started spiraling a little bit, but then Rich had found him and offered him a job. And that was nice - something to do. Except it'd been a week of that - weird as the situation was - and now he'd found himself grabbed, hooded, and transported somewhere. 

To be honest, he'd wondered when this might happen. He wondered on the ride over, after they got him more or less immobilized, whether this was the result of the information Moriarty had told him a little before he'd died. If so, he was going to get free and kill a few people. If they let him. Sebastian wondered if they'd be stupid enough to let him go after this. The proper response was death or wasting away in some hole somewhere, but guilty consciences might get in the way. 

He struggled as they unloaded him, figuring he might as well be the biggest annoyance possible before they killed him, stopped struggling when they finally put a pistol to his head to walk him down the hall. They should have done that from the start. And maybe the first few bruises should have gotten him to behave, but he didn't have anything to lose. 

They dragged him into a room, yanking his arms forward to cuff him to the table. He sat, sprawling as much as someone handcuffed to a bar on the table could. He couldn't see properly beyond the weave of the bag, but he could hear the slap of a folder on the table, feel the puff of air on his hands. "So who is it I'm speaking to? Don't want to run the risk of ruining a pretty face, is it?" They couldn't see the grin behind the hood, but it was there, despite the blood and bruises. "I'm handcuffed, how much do you think I could do? I appreciate the caution a little, obviously. Feeds the ego to think you're afraid."

SHERLOCK & MYCROFT

The victory was hollow but he would take it. After the years that he had put up with the whole Moran families antics, it had become personal and he would enjoy this. It wasn’t just the Moran’s either. It was Sherlock choosing Alex, it was Celia choosing Morland. The fragile ecosystem his mother had left with him had fallen apart. Only now he felt like he had it back again. Maybe not quote as complete as before, but he was back on top. 

He strolled into the integration room, closing the door firmly behind him, pulling at his tie. He glanced up, just for a moment into the mirror, imagining Alex standing behind it. That little bitch imagined she had called the shots on this one; he wondered is Sherlock had told her yet that they had been in control since the beginning. Mycroft moved past Seb, reaching up in the corner of the room to yank out the wires that lead to the security camera. What the British Government didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt them. After all, he had done much worse than his in the name of national security and they had thanked him for it. 

His movements were slow, controlled and then, pausing for a moment in front of Seb, he slammed the other man’s head down hard against the table. It was a rush, he’ll admit that. He understood the pull of violence, he was just a better man than Sebastian Moran. He knew when to say no. He doesn’t hold his head down, instead moving away as quickly as before. 

Sherlock, despite himself, moved forward and, with more caution than Mycroft was showing, slowly reached out towards Alex. “Don’t… my brother is a bully who’s never got to act on it before, he wants you to react, he wants to know he’s getting to you both.”

ALEX

The voice on the speaker system, though tinny and filled with statics, cut to her core. It was the first time she had heard him on over a week, since she had left him to hopefully restart his life. There had been a small chance he would still relapse, but with a crushed phone and no friends it would be difficult. At least harder. Alex had put off leaving as long as physically possible. Even worse, she had excused the insults hurled at her in the name of grief and pain. She had sat outside the locked door that allowed him to cry, to feel something for the first time in years outside of pride. She was as loyal as a dog, and had been treated like one. Maybe that was why she was always so keen to jump to his defence. 

Her brother made jokes like he couldn’t be intimidated, rule 101 of getting under your interrogators skin. She didn’t really register she was holding her breath, but the audible smirk in his time had her on edge. She had been there once. Maybe she couldn’t watch this.  For a moment the nausea was too much, yet right as she was about to look away and focus on Mycroft, he seemed to move to the corner of the room. 

Alex moved closer to the glass to get a better look. “What the fuck is he-“ And there, right as he placed his hand on the bags she knew that look. She had seen it too many times in her nightmares. Right as they pressed the knife to her skin, right as the carved along her rib cage with the branding she would bare for life. The sign of someone enjoying pain in others. 

“NO.” It was guttural, almost like a scream but low and animalistic. But their booth was soundproofed. None of it would carry through to the interrogation room itself. She hovered, wondering how many bodies she would have to leave in the hall to get into that room. If Mycroft had turned the cameras off, he didn’t want to be disturbed. “He’s a person, not a fucking pressure point. If he kills him, I swear to god-“

SEBASTIAN

The door shut, trapping him and whoever this was in the room together. He had to imagine it was a Holmes. Wouldn't that make sense? In fact, he rather hoped it was - that'd make the experience better. A regular interrogator wouldn't have the same attachment to the situation and that'd just be tiring. Something was happening over further from the corner. He couldn't quite tell what, but footsteps approached once more and he decided to concentrate more on that. 

Which turned into concentrating on just how hard his face had hit the metal table - definitely metal, the way his nose ached and dripped blood onto the hood and down over his mouth. He grunted at the impact, unable to cushion himself in any way, given that his wrists were currently attached to the table. He sat back up slowly. Must have turned the cameras off, then. Oh well. Seb didn't want a rescue anyway. He felt a little bad about abandoning Rich, but he was resourceful enough to find someone else for protection. If Seb died here, that was better than a box of a cell deep underground. 

He hacked a little to clear his throat. "That wasn't much of a defense. Didn't your mother teach you violence wasn't the answer?" Sure, Sebastian's probably had, even if he'd clearly ended up ignoring such advice. "Very big of you to attack a man who's tied down. I can't even see your face. Makes me think you're too much of a coward to kill me. Not even interested in having the option on the table?"

SHERLOCK & MYCROFT

"He won't," Sherlock assured her, quite confident in that, "but he won't make this easy for either of you." His arm remained stretched out, only inches away from her arm, having there.

Mycroft continues his silent vigil around the table. Suit jacket off, neatly hung over the back of the other chair, he began to roll up his shirt sleeves. It wasn't just Seb he saw in that chair. It was all of them; every Moran, every criminal, every terrorist who cannot think further than their own bank account. At least the terrorists believed in something. His mind moved in a similar direction as her brothers; he had no time for men who made a sport of violence. They all had it within them; the spark that causes bar fights after too many beers. Intelligence sorted the men from the boys. Only he wasn't in the mood to be an Oxford man today. Moran would suffer and in that moment, he may have time to think about all the people that suffered because of him. 

"I imagine it's the same sort of feeling when you shoot a man from a hundred meters through a telescope," Mycroft said finally, his tone steady. "Skins not really in the game but it's still satisfying."

ALEX

“No.” It was quieter this time. Soft and barely audible. Spoken as you would a prayer. Maybe that was the true meaning, the true weight to her words. She wanted to take it back. They sounds suck like honey in her throat, on her tongue, knowing whatever was about to happen she had technically agreed to. On paper. None of this was supposed to be happening. She didn’t pull her eyes from the bag, now stained with what alex would assume was the blood of a gushing nose. She could hear all of it, crackling over the sound system and yet she was doomed to watch.

It was sitting in a cell listening to AJs screams all over again. It was beating her fists bloody against a door, handcuffs cutting away at her wrists in the struggle to make them stop...

This was all achingly familiar. Even the way he took his time to roll up his sleeves, the careful folds as to keep his image clean. It certainly wasn’t his shirt. “He’s enjoying it Sherlock. Look at him. Look at your brother and tell me that’s fair.”

She glared back to him for a second, trying not to let the desperation show. She still had her pride, but not for long.

SEBASTIAN

Not much in the way of conversation, then. Sebastian was patient, but he was patient mostly on rooftops or on hillsides. Times like these, a lack of engagement grated on him. Couldn't let it show, though. Maybe that was the one nice thing about having a bag on his head. Still, he'd rather have it off. For all that he was seemingly relaxed, the back of his mind was still very aware of the time he'd been here, the time he might have left, the fact he couldn't see the man's hands. 

"Satisfaction of a job well done, maybe." Was this the same? He didn't think so. "You are gloating. The job's not done yet, and that's still what you're doing. Sure," he gestured vaguely, the handcuffs clattering as he did, "you've got me here. Well done. You're not finished, though. I am still very much your problem for the foreseeable future. I've got all day - do you?" Sebastian might not talk much most of the time, but when he had a captive audience and time to kill, he could get going well enough. 

"Now if I wanted to gloat, I'd tell you that the satisfaction comes from the seconds before the bullet makes impact. You watch them through that scope and it's up to you to decide whether they live or die - or for me, at least. I'm good enough not to miss. And then once you've pulled the trigger you've got a few seconds where the bullet's flying through the air and you really are God. Only you know what's about to happen, and with complete inevitability, it does." He shook his head, wincing a little at the motion. "It's not comparable, this and that. The satisfaction isn't that they know who did it - I don't have to stand in front of my target and tell them it was me. If you don't gloat at me, I'll never know who was responsible - that's where your satisfaction comes from - the knowing. Your skin's more in the game than you want it to be, I think."

SHERLOCK & MYCROFT

Sherlock clears his throat, lowers his hand. "Mycroft... my brother believes that Moriarty was, likely indirectly, involved in the attack that cause Bridget... Mycroft's wife... she's not been the same since. Your brother is linked to... a part of the organisation that got our neice killed, that destroyed his wife, that had got some of Mycroft's best agents killed. This isn't just fair in his eyes, it's just." Never make decisions until you have all the facts. Even then, have an exit plan. Begrudgingly, Sherlock had always followed that advice, even though it came from his father. 

Mycroft, through the one-way-glass reached forward and pulled the bag from Seb's head, only holding the corners with finger and thumb, then folding it neatly in his hands. He was careful to stand away from the man. He might hate the hitman but he was more than a little aware of his abilities. "For you? I have all week. And you can take that as a compliment, Moran. I have been aching to have you in that chair. But not before I knew I had you. And I do have you."

He smiled, surely satisfied. "I have removed all walls between us. We can be open and honest now. Moriarty is dead. Your cousin August is protecting my little sister, your cousin Sebastian is serving time at her majesty's leisure and your sister-- well, she recognised a losing side what she saw one."

ALEX

“He’s not in his right mind. You know that. I fucking told you, the night he tried to...” This wasn’t right. Her brother was rattling on with some speech about playing god, when none of it mattered. “You put him in there. You found him, let him in the room with Mycroft, How could you?”

The deck was stacked against her from the start and she was only just starting to realise it. Her head snapped back to the scene in front of them at the mention of August- that was new information too. Mycroft had used the words untraceable less than 24 hours ago when she had asked where on earth her family was. And Bash? In prison? All those demands seemed futile now.

“This is a fucking game to him and- a-and...” and what? She moved to the door, grasping at the handle and forcing it down. And down again. Yet the door wouldn’t move.

This whole thing had been a set up from the start. And her body was full of panic as she scrambled to fill in the blanks.

SEBASTIAN

There went the bag. Finally. He blinked a little in the new light, gave Mycroft a charming smile that was perhaps made less charming by the amount of blood on his face. He'd have to worry about flashbacks later though - and anyway, it was his blood, which was better. He wasn't planning on biting Mycroft, though the temptation was certainly there. "Oh, I do, Mr. Holmes. A whole week just for little old me? You shouldn't have." That gave him something of a timeline, though he was doing his best not to construct one that could be taken away. 

A grin. "Have you? I'm very flattered, to be honest. It's very nice to meet you, I'll say. On this end of a scope, of course." Whether or not that was true didn't matter. "You do have me, Mr Holmes, very good observation." His tone as patronizing as could be, though it shifted for the next part. "All tied up, too. You can get closer - I won't bite. Unless you're into that." He looked around the room briefly. "Do you really have me, though? I'd have thought you'd look less tense if that was the case."

Smug bastard. Sebastian would very much like to throttle him, and would absolutely have tried if given the opportunity. "Honest? Don't lie so soon, it'll destroy the rapport you're building. I think we both know honesty only has a small foothold here." And openness? It depended on the information, which - interesting. A cold smile across the table at Mycroft. "She did leave suddenly - I had wondered a little. She did always hate the man. I suppose then it was only a matter of time before the rat jumped ship." August was safe, then. Bash might die. Alex would die if they ever crossed paths. "So did she give me up or did she cling to the notion that I might care about her survival enough to thank her for holding out? I'd love to know just how much to thank her when I see her next."

SHERLOCK & MYCROFT

Sherlock took a step back from Alex again, his back against the wall, his face full of something like grief, or regret but he didn't excuse Seb. He couldn't. They had gone too far, done too much. "I hunted him down because you asked for his pardon. It's the only reason he is in here." That was cruel, but he wasn't going to take the blame fully for this. 

Mycroft considered that, if he wasn't holding all the cards, that Seb's calm would frustrate him. If he really needed something from the hitman, if he was desperate.... but it wasn't like that anymore. Sure, Seb likely had enough information about Jim's web to fill a library but would good was it now? The whole thing was being picked apart, mostly by other criminals looking for their slice of the pie before the party was over. The job wasn't over, he wasn't about to retire anytime soon but this would at least mark the end of the Moran's being a thorn in his side. 

"Not something I could say for sure, Moran. Why don't you ask her yourself?" With obvious glee, Myc moves across to the mirror and presses on the button by the side. The room behind the screen lights up. Sherlock, seeing where his brother was heading had backed away into the shadows but he would not be hidden. Mycroft smiled between Alex and Seb. "A nice family reunion, I'm so glad I could witness this. Why don't you tell him what you've done for him Alex? I'm sure he will be ever so grateful."

[kriscme]

One Life To Live

Thanks as always to Ronja for allowing me to write fanfic of her Hunger Games fanfic “The Chance You Didn’t Take”.  You can find it on AO3 and Fanfiction.

Chapter 30 Haymitch alternates swigs of white liquor with large bites of pizza out of a takeaway box.  I’ve mistimed my visit again, catching the last five minutes of “One Life to Live.”   “What’s Celia doing in a therapy support group?” I ask as the credits roll. Haymitch clicks the off button on the remote and the screen goes black.  “Sex addiction,” he tells me, taking another gulp from his bottle.  “She can’t keep her knickers on after what Lance did to her.” “What did Lance do?” The last time I watched this silly show, she and Lance were having a threesome with the gardener. “Made her like sex too much.  And then Anton.  And Cecil.  And 11’s wrestling team.  They’re blaming psychological issues or some such rubbish.  Fear of emotional intimacy is one theory.   Or could be she’s just a slut.” “And what about Blake?  Is he married to Ginger yet?” “He would’ve been but the baby came a few weeks early and now he wants nothing to do with her.”  I wait for more but Haymitch just helps himself to another slice of pizza. “Why?”

He quirks an eyebrow at me.   “Two people with fair skin usually have a fair skinned baby.” “Oh.”  The guy from the punk band, and the real father of Ginger’s baby, is very dark. I rather wish I had seen that episode when Ginger’s baby popped out.  The look on Blake’s face must have been priceless.  “Well, anyway, I didn’t come here to talk about “One Life to Live.”  I wanted to ask you about Cressida.” “What about her?” “Do you think she can be trusted?” Haymitch shoots me an incredulous look and laughs.  “What do you think?  She works for Plutarch, doesn’t she?” I was afraid he’d say that.   My worry must show in my face.  “Why do you ask?  You haven’t done something stupid, have you?”  When I don’t answer, he snorts and takes another drink. “That’s why no one let you make the plans.” This gets my back up.  “Like you did such a good job of it.  If you’d involved Peeta and me in your so-called plans, we’d have known not to let ourselves be separated from each other in the first place. And then he wouldn’t have been captured, and he wouldn’t now – “ “Yeah, yeah, alright,” he says, raising a hand. “We’ve been over this before and I’m not in the mood to have my face gouged again. It’s bad enough that I had to go through it again with Peeta.” Johanna told me that Peeta got mad at Haymitch when those memories came back.  Preoccupied as I often am with my own guilt over Peeta, I sometimes forget that Haymitch is carrying his share of it too and my anger subsides.  Besides, my bitten down fingernails could barely impact a mosquito bite.  I should make time to visit the salon to have those fake things put on again.   “How is Peeta?” I ask.  “Have you talked to him?”  A week has passed since Peeta and I last spoke.  I’d called around the following day to thank him for the cake but he wasn’t home so I made do with a note under his door.   I haven’t seen him leave or return home from the bakery although I know from Johanna that he’s working regular hours. The only visible evidence I have that he’s still in the Village is that the primrose bushes have been pruned recently. Not through all our ups and downs has Peeta neglected the bushes.  Obviously, he did it when I wasn’t around to see it.   He seems to be avoiding me and I don’t know why.  I can’t think of anything I’ve done to upset him.   Before he answers, Haymitch takes a moment to toss the empty pizza box in the general vicinity of a pile of discarded food containers by the window.  Even from this distance, I can see a trail of ants making their way down the wall possibly in anticipation of yet another feast.  In less than an hour they’ll be swarming over the box, picking over the remnants and transporting them back to their nest.   Perhaps this is Haymitch’s idea of cleaning.  Have the ants do it.   “Saw him the day before yesterday.  Had dinner after watching the tape.  Johanna cooked.  I wish she’d let Peeta do it.   He’s a much better cook, but she insisted.  She fusses over him like a mother hen and I think it’s starting to get on his nerves.    But he’s fine, all things considered.  Just very down.  Stares into space when he thinks no one’s looking. But no flashbacks or signs of serious depression.  Keeping busy and sticking to a routine has helped.” I let this sink in.  My initial reaction is to feel hurt that I wasn’t invited to have dinner with them.  It’s irrational,of course.   I’m the one who distanced myself.  And I was busy this weekend anyway.  But I do miss it.  All of us together.   “He’s keeping up with the tapes, then?” “Yeah, although it’s going over old territory if you ask me.  Mostly it’s promotional footage, Capitol parties, various interviews.”  That could explain why I haven’t seen him.  Maybe it’s Cressida and media attention he wants to avoid.  The camera crew are everywhere.  I even saw one of them filming the Village, for no particular reason that I could make out, and paying extra attention to Peeta’s house and mine.   Haymitch drains the last of his bottle and reaches for another beside his chair and gives the top a twist.  “He showed interest in one of them.  The start of the Victory Tour – when you came running out of your house to push him into the snow.” “Ha ha.” I say caustically, giving Haymitch’s joke the response it deserves.   I think back to that day.  Making the most of my remaining hours of freedom: in the woods checking the snare lines; a change of clothes at my old house in the Seam; a visit to Hazelle; and lastly, calling in on Haymitch.    I’d promised to wake him an hour before the cameras came.  It seemed that he’d also asked Peeta, because he showed up at the same time.  To say it was chilly between us is putting it mildly.  Peeta barely looked at me.  When I got home President Snow was waiting for me with his threats.  Convince the districts, convince me that Peeta and I were madly in love, or Gale was dead, with others to follow.  There was no way to warn Peeta, but I was sure he’d perform well anyway.  And he did. Our first kiss in months and no one could have guessed that he was acting – not even me if I hadn’t known better. I ask “Did he remember it?” “Parts of it.  The cameras, falling in the snow, some of what we discussed before Effie and the prep teams arrived.” “You and Peeta?”  I feel a flash of resentment that they had had this discussion without me, but then remember that I walked out soon after Peeta got there. Haymitch probably wanted to talk to us both.  “What about?” “That he needed to change his attitude. Reminded him that the romance was his idea.  That you kept him alive and would’ve died with him, rather than take the victory for yourself.  How imperative it was to keep up the act or people would die.”

It fits.  On the train journey to 11, Peeta apologised to me, acknowledged my actions had kept us alive, and that we should try being friends.   

“That’s what he remembered,” continues Haymitch.  “What he forgot was what I said about you being in a different place than him.  That he had this crush long before the Games even started, whereas for you the romance was a strategy that the two of us cooked up.  And from where I was sitting, I saw a boy who was head-over-heels and a girl who was getting there.  That all she needed was time and patience but if he continued to sulk – “ A conversation between Haymitch and me just before Peeta and I reunited on stage after winning the Games.  About convincing everyone that the trick with the berries was motivated by love.   “Did you tell Peeta this?” “Don’t have to. He’s already there.”  “But you think I’m not?” So that’s what Haymitch meant.   He knew before I did.  Finnick too.   I interrupt. “What did he say?” “That he wished he had known.  That’s all.”  Haymitch gazes thoughtfully down at his bottle.  “It occurred to me that maybe, if this memory was distorted or erased – “ “He’d believe I hadn’t loved him but it was important for us to be friends,” I say, finishing the thought for him.  There’s some logic to it.  I can imagine the half-memory sticking up like a tree root waiting to trip Peeta up.  And then skewing every memory, and every thought he’s had about me since. “It’s a wild guess, but not impossible.  And it’s not like there’s any other ideas.  I should run it past Aurelius.  See what he thinks.” “Do it,” I say.  “At the very least, it can’t hurt.”   The more information Dr Aurelius has the better he can help Peeta. It won’t help me though.  Peeta wouldn’t be mourning the loss of Lace if he didn’t love her.  Or make him love me. Haymitch nods, takes a drink from his bottle, and then goes back to contemplating its depths as if somehow the answers can be found there.  I take this as a signal that the conversation is over and start to rise from the couch when his voice freezes me in place. “So, what’s the stupid thing you’ve done that’s made you worry about Cressida?” I hoped he’d forgotten about that.  Because the “stupid thing” is something I definitely can’t confide in Haymitch about.   “I haven’t done anything,” I say, scowling at him.  “It’s just that I wanted your advice on whether I should be on my guard.  She tried to involve me in the interviews with Marcus. Like I’d be standing well to the side and then she’d ask me a question, and then the cameras would swing over to me. She says she won’t use it but after what happened to Johanna . . .” “If that’s all there is, you’ll be OK.   Even if they do use it and the public wants more, there’s nothing either Cressida or Plutarch can do about it.  No one could say you deliberately set out to draw attention to yourself.  You were just doing a job.   That’s where Johanna went wrong.  She was trying to attract publicity.  And there’s no scandal attached to you and Marcus either – that’s another way they can get around it.  They’ll say they’re reporting on him and you’re merely collateral damage.  So, unless you get caught with your pants down, you haven’t a thing to worry about.”  Haymitch regards me with amusement.  “Or have you? Been caught with your pants down, that is?” “Of course not!” I splutter indignantly. My face burns and it must surely be a bright shade of red.  “I’d never – “ “Calm down, sweetheart.  It was only a joke,” he says, shaking his head.  And then to show how funny he thinks he is; he breaks out laughing.  I judge it to be a good time to leave.   I wander around the Village for a little while.  I want to talk to Johanna.  She’d understand.  But Peeta might come to the door and then how to get Johanna alone without being rude. At home, Marcus has his own worry and I don’t want to add to it by talking about it.   Eventually, I take refuge in my favourite thinking spot; my front porch. And I then I try as hard as I can to reassure myself that I’m worrying over nothing but without much success.   How could we have been so careless? I hadn’t seen much of Cressida during the week.  She’d been busy working on a separate feature on 12’s recovery from the war. She even visited the school.  Mr Matson obligingly gave her a tour and allowed the cameras into the classrooms.  Max made sure to get his face on camera, of course.  When I saw them heading in the direction of my classroom, I locked the door and pulled down the blind.  “Shh,” I said to the kids, “let’s pretend we’re not here.” They thought it was a great game. For the new national park, she wanted to interview Marcus in a series of locations similar to what she did of Gale and me when we returned to bombed-out 12 for some unscripted interviews.   In this case, we’d be following the new trails Marcus had surveyed ending with the lake.  But, because it was unlikely that we would get back before nightfall, it was decided to camp at the lake overnight and return to town the next day.   I was hesitant to go.  I knew it was in my best interests to stay as far from the cameras as possible.  But Marcus said it didn’t feel right for me not to be there since I had played such a large part in it.  And because Marcus and I don’t have much time left together and Cressida had assured me that the attention would be on Marcus anyway, I allowed myself to be persuaded.    Marcus led the way.  Our first stop was at the top of a ridge which Marcus has designated for a lookout. It was a welcome relief to drop my heavy pack to the ground after the long climb and have a long cool drink while Cressida conducted the interview.  The blackberry bushes were heavy with fruit and I positioned myself in front of them.  From there I was away from the cameras but could still watch and gorge myself on berries at the same time.   “Katniss, close by is the very spot where I interviewed you and your hunting partner, Gale Hawthorne, as part of a feature we did on District 12 not long after it was destroyed by enemy bombs.  I got the impression that these woods are very special to you.   What are your feelings about it becoming a national park?” Suddenly all eyes and two camera lenses were on me.  I tried to hide by retreating backwards but was met by a wall of prickles from the blackberry bushes.  Cressida waited expectantly. “Ah, well, you know, times change. I guess from a personal standpoint it’s a big adjustment, but if it ensures that the woods will be protected it’s all worthwhile.” Cressida nodded and turned back to Marcus to continue her questions.  Messalina, her assistant, scribbled something in her notebook.   From there it was easy walking along the ridge and my mind wandered to other times I’d come this way - with my father, by myself, with Gale, and most recently with Marcus.  Before long many feet will trace these same steps and I was overcome by sadness that my beloved woods would no longer be mine.  Even with just these five people, it feels like a violation.   The woods have been my sanctuary.  Would I ever find another? “A coin for your thoughts.”  Startled, my head jerked towards the sound.  Cressida was beside me.  Last time I looked; she had been walking up front with Marcus.  She must have hung back and waited for me.   I didn’t really know what to make of Cressida.   In 13, I had admired her calmness under pressure and the pride she took in her work. It reminded me of Cinna and I thought that if she and I were in the arena together, I would pick her as an ally. But that was before Prim was killed. I can’t be sure, but I suspect she informed Plutarch of our whereabouts that day.  If Snow was telling the truth that Plutarch was behind the bombing that killed Prim, then that makes her complicit in some way.  Maybe not intentionally, but she played a part in much the same way as Gale did.   At the very least it proved to me that Cressida’s loyalty isn’t to me, but to Plutarch and the story she’s chasing.  And then there’s Johanna.  Was it really an accident that Plutarch got hold of that interview? “I was just thinking of how things have changed,” I answered.  There, honest but not too revealing.   Nothing that Cressida could take much from.  I was wrong. “Since we last came this way?” she asked, looking down at the ground. “This must be very difficult for you, more or less following the same route we did for the interviews that day – dredging up memories of times and people lost.” She hesitated for a moment, as if pondering the wisdom of her next words.   “I’m sorry if my relationship with Gale has added to that in any way.  I – “ “It doesn’t,” I interjected before she could say more.  “Gale and I weren’t meant to be together.  I’m happy for you both.  Truly.” Her face cleared.  “That’s what Gale said.  But I wondered . . .” I said nothing because there was nothing to say.   I was a little miffed that Gale had dismissed me so easily.  I thought he should at least have some regret for what could have been.  I was glad that I hadn’t wasted my time fretting over him. “Peeta, then?” “Huh?” The question took me by surprise. “I wasn’t actually thinking about him.” “It would be understandable if you were.  I know I can’t help thinking of that time and of our purpose here.  Do you remember the appeal you made to him from where his parents’ bakery once stood?  If I were asked to choose one propo above the rest, that would be it.   The carnage, the desolation, the utterly incomprehensible loss of life was encapsulated in that short piece.” “Yeah, I guess.”  Personally, I thought they were all awful but perhaps Cressida takes a film maker’s view of things and she judges the artistic merit.   “They still speak of you in the Districts, you know.  You and Peeta.  You haven’t been forgotten.” I shrugged in response.  How could we be forgotten when some of our fellow victors have pursued a life in the public gaze? Our very absence would give rise to speculation – rather like those shows you sometimes see on TV “where are they now?”  At least we’re spared media attention.  That’s something to be grateful for. Cressida went on.  “Your love story struck a chord with the public consciousness that shows no sign of abating.  It represents so many things to people.  How love and hope endure.  Rebirth instead of destruction.  The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses.  That it can be good again.  It – “ “Does it?” I asked, cutting her off. “Well, if they want to keep on believing in that nonsense, I can’t stop them.  I need to take a toilet break.  Excuse me.” Ignoring Cressida’s shocked expression I left her to go in search of a tree.  Why did she have to tell me that?  It’s everything that Peeta’s love would have meant to me too.   And I’m so tired of people and their expectations.  Peeta and I represent nothing.  Nothing! Except maybe that nothing lasts and hope is a stupid illusion for stupid people.   I went through the motions of relieving myself although I didn’t really need to, but it gave me time to calm myself before I rejoined the others.   When we stopped for lunch, I made sure to sit next to Pollux.  We exchanged smiles but that was the end of any kind of conversation.  An avox, Pollux can’t talk and that suited me just fine.  Marcus sent a smile my way and then went back to talking to Cressida.   Messalina was occupied with her notebook.  The remaining member of our party, Remus, was making adjustments to his insect shell – the name I gave the camera equipment that wraps around the bodies of the camera crew.  I disliked Remus on sight with his small shifting eyes that seem to take in everything.   He was the one I saw filming the Village. It was late afternoon when we arrived at the lake but there was still sufficient light for Cressida to do her interview.  I overheard her tell Pollux and Remus she’d like some additional film of the lake the following morning but otherwise we were done.  I would’ve liked to have taken a walk with Marcus around the lake but we were supposed to appear as if our relationship was strictly a working one. He didn’t want the same thing that happened with Johanna to happen to us.  So, when we gathered around the campfire that night for supper, we sat opposite each other.  And when we retired for the night in the concrete house our sleeping mats were as far apart as we could make them.  Not that there was any chance of us getting close – not with Cressida and Messalina there too. Pollux and Remus shared a tent just outside the house.  One of them snored like a chainsaw which Messalina complained about incessantly.   I don’t know who kept me awake the longest – Messalina or the snorer. When the first thin rays of sunlight fell across the concrete house, Cressida and Messalina were dead to the world.  Marcus was already up, dressed and putting on his boots.  He put his finger to his lips and pointed to the door.   I nodded and wiggled out of my sleeping bag.  It took only a minute to find my trousers, shirt and boots and join him outside.  It was my favorite time of the day: the sun just peeking over the horizon; birds caroling the new day; the air so fresh and clean.   The tent was zipped shut; loud snores rumbled from within.  Carefully, we walked past until we were out of earshot.  “Why don’t I search for firewood while you fetch water from the spring?” said Marcus.   “Ok,” I replied, intrigued.  There were logs stacked behind the house and we had brought water in with us.  Nevertheless, I took a couple of empty water bottles and started out for the spring.  It was familiar to us both as Marcus had noted it as a feature on one of the walking tracks and I had long used it as a water source.   It was only about six minutes’ walk away; five, if you don’t count the short stop behind a rhododendron bush to attend to nature.  The spring gushes from the side of a foothill into a brook that feeds into the lake. It’s the sweetest water imaginable and I helped myself to a long cool draught.   And then I waited . . . and waited.  I was about to give up when I caught a glimpse of his khaki shirt through the underbrush.

“What’s this about?  Aren’t we supposed – “ I began.   His answer was to pull me hard against him and capture my lips in a kiss.  It took me by surprise after everything he had said about the importance of maintaining appearances.    But after that first shock, I took fire and answered him in kind, wrapping my arms around his neck and pressing into him, straining to get closer. His belt buckle dug painfully into my ribs.  It had to go.  While I struggled with it, he reached beneath my shirt with one hand to fondle my breast.  My feet started to lose traction and I realized he was pushing me backwards and upwards until I was elevated slightly, my back against a large oak, my feet resting precariously on a root flare.   The belt taken care of, I started on the button and zipper on his trousers.  He did the same with mine, pulling down trousers and underwear in one swift motion.  And then we were both free, his hardness nudging between my legs. “I’m sorry, I can’t – “I panted.  My feet were shackled by my clothes and I was unable to spread my legs wide enough to allow him entry.   Frantically, a boot was unlaced, tossed aside and a trouser leg pulled down over my foot.   Unhampered now, I hooked a leg around his waist and with one smooth powerful thrust he was all the way inside, one hand on my breast, the other braced against the tree, his mouth covering mine.   It felt so, so good.  I could have stayed impaled against that tree forever.  That is, until he started pounding his hips into me.  The rough bark of the oak stabbed into my lower back with each thrust.  It was lucky my shirt tail covered my naked behind or splinters might have been a problem too.  Marcus enjoyed himself though.  I could tell from his breathing that he was close.  But then it happened.   A loud snap.  It was unmistakable.  We both heard it.  Even Marcus, occupied as he was.  Our heads spun trying to locate the source of the sound.  But there was nothing to see; only trees and low bushes. “It was probably just a falling branch,” said Marcus.  He didn’t sound confident. “Yeah, probably,” I agreed, even though a falling branch would also have made a crashing sound as it hit the ground.       Neither of us were at ease and the moment was lost.  Marcus slipped out of me and we put our clothes back in order.  I retrieved the full water bottles and headed back to camp. Marcus returned separately with the bundle of firewood he’d collected before he joined me at the spring. Our fellow campers were as we had left them. Cressida, laid out like a starfish on her back.  Messalina, huddled under her sleeping bag.   The tent still zippered up, the snorer still snoring.  But by the lake, in full insect shell, was Remus with his camera trained on an ibis feeding in the shallows in the early light.  On my approach, he gave a small wave before he returned to his work.  But on his face, was a small, but undeniable smirk.  

[catalinaroleplay]

Gender & Pronouns: Cis female, she/her

Date of Birth: September 5th, 1995 (24)

Place of Birth: Catalina Island, California

Neighborhood: Avalon

Length of Residency: Native

Occupation: Freelance Writer, Lifestyle Blogger, and College Student

Face Claim: Maia Mitchell

BIOGRAPHY

The birth of their youngest daughter should have been a blessing, a joy, and the source of utter happiness for Evelyn and Arthur Halliwell, but by the time Celia was born, the relationship between the two adults was already too broken to be repaired. Arthur Halliwell was too far gone with only money on his mind and Evelyn seemed to thrive doing nothing but being a wealthy housewife, resorting to any means necessary to keep their family’s name out of the dirt. Having Celia was supposed to repair what had been broken long ago; a child to restore the love they once felt, something to replace the resentment they held for one another. Neither could understand why their plan failed, but neither of them tried to fix it again.

Being the youngest of four and Evelyn’s last shot at getting the daughter of her dreams, Celia turned out to be the poster child for her “mother’s” parenting skills. She hit all her milestones early, which gave Evelyn a reason to beam with pride and show off, and by the time she began to speak, it was clear that Celia was gifted with intelligence well above her parents’ expectations. She was the Halliwell family’s shining star, something Evelyn had longed for after the troubles she had gone through with her other daughter, especially Ava and Cleo. Being so high up on a pedestal Celia Halliwell had always looked at the glass as half full, which wasn’t hard considering she never had to worry about what the future would hold for her. Her entire week was pre-planned by Evelyn, social appointments and lunch-ins were the highest priority. Whenever she wanted to spend a day with a friend it had to be run by her mother. It wasn’t the ideal situation, but Celia believed to be doing right by her mother. 

Despite all the privileges the Halliwell name came with, she had always been naïve to the way things worked outside in the real world and never believed in the notion of wishing ill upon another or of tearing someone down in order to make herself look better – in her eyes, there was enough room at the top for more than one person, even though more than enough people at school were always competing with her in nasty ways. Unlike her sisters, she usually stayed out of trouble, believing the world to be a magical place filled with only kindness and love, Celia certainly trained herself to overlook all the potential malicious traits people came with and focused on the good in people instead. It wasn’t always easy, but being portrayed as a bad person wouldn’t work with the picture that had already been painted of her. 

While being Evelyn’s favorite child had its perks, there were many downsides. Debutant balls, dinner parties, charity events, and other social events turned into Celia’s life as soon as she was old enough to accompany her mom. Sometimes Celia thought Evelyn tried to go to as many events as possible because she feared it could all come to an end and her youngest daughter would start to rebel as well. But why rebel when Celia lived a life with virtually no consequences? She was rarely told no, anything she desired she could have – anything if she just made her mother happy with a couple of events during the social season and listened when she was told to stand up straight and look happy. On the other hand, Celia never felt the need to step out of line or do anything crazy… as long as she looked happy, she could pretend everything was fine. But looking happy and being happy are two completely different things if your name isn’t Evelyn Halliwell. Maternal instinct was something her mother had always lacked and where a mother should have been, doting nannies could be found, so how could she blame Evelyn for not noticing the obvious? 

Instead, Celia chose to blame Arthur. Arthur who, according to Ava, knew how to be a father and had been a fatherly figure even to her other older sisters, but didn’t feel the need to show his youngest daughter the same decency. Celia knew he hadn’t really been interested in yet another daughter, that he’d wished for a boy at the end of the road, that he blamed her for the failing of his marriage. It wasn’t fair to put the blame for something as huge as this on a little girl and yet, Arthur never tried to convince her otherwise. It was comforting to know that one of her parents felt different from the other, but Celia craved her father’s attention, yet her efforts always went unnoticed. As a young child, she tried desperately to get him to look her way, whether that be with good or ill intentions. After all, she was a true people pleaser. It was so easy to please Evelyn, so why was it so impossible with him? Maybe he would see her if she passed the semester with flying colors, make a heartfelt card for father’s day, or by pushing a girl down the stairs and being sent home for two weeks? No. She never got the affection or attention she so desperately wanted from the man whom she admired from afar. Her efforts continued and blossomed into something she did obsessively as she went into high school as she flourished into a graceful, clever young lady. But behind her friendly smile, was an empty girl, who tried to please the two people who brought her into this world, no matter what.  

Celia turned into a shell of her former self. On the outside, her life continued as it had, and people never noticed the difference. On the inside, everything fell apart. Her naivety turned on her, made her see how cruel people could really be, but once the realization hit, Celia had already become a puppet on her mothers’ strings. Her life was already all planned out for her by her mother. First, she’d graduate and catch herself a wealthy young man from a good family, marry him and then move him to Catalina. Being extremely witty and incredibly smart, she excelled in school and soon was accepted to numerous Universities and colleges that were interested in the young woman, but for the first time, Celia had found something she wanted more than the attention she wanted from Arthur. Parties, alcohol and staying out late – even though done in secret, became her kryptonite. During the day, Celia stood straight with a smile at her mothers side and during the night, she drank more than she could handle and danced until her feet hurt. The group of friends she found herself within, quickly showed her how good it could be to be reckless every once in a while. Accepted into Stanford, Celia left feeling truly untouchable and ended up celebrating her first year, she would only do once in her life. Too much alcohol paired with trying drugs for the first time didn’t end too well for the youngest Halliwell. The night ended in a hospital room, unbeknownst to anyone but Evelyn who got the call at four in the morning. In true Lucinda Cabot fashion, Evelyn took a page from her mothers book and did everything in her power to make sure Celia’s misstep wouldn’t see the light of day. While everyone thought the girl was at Stanford, her mother sent her to a rehab facility; once again relying on other people to care for her daughter, instead of showing her the love she needed. However, Celia didn’t only receive treatment for her ‘drug abuse’ (which was ridiculous considering she never took any before that night), but also for the psychological issues that piled up over the years. 

Coming back home during spring break, Celia met the person who’d help her finally break free for good. Devilishly handsome, a true gentleman, with an ambition to go places. Places where Celia actually wanted to be. They met at a beach party on the night of her return and she was instantly smitten. Completely taken by every detail about him and who he was. She wanted more, more of him. The feelings were anything but one-sided and Celia suddenly wanted something for herself. Something more than just to please the people around her. She’d gotten a taste of happiness when he kissed her for the first time and instantly longed for more. Their romance started abruptly, a couple of months spent in Europe on a trip together and Celia felt free for the first time in her life. When it was time to return to California and ‘’go back to Stanford’’, the young girl sent her mother a text, letting her know she would take the year to “live and breathe” Europe. She couldn’t come back just yet. Freedom tasted good and she would enjoy it for as long as she could. Their relationship lasted all through Italy, Spain, Greece, and France before they went their separate ways. Although Celia came back home alone, she came back home whole. It hadn’t been a whole year, but enough time for her to realize that she didn’t want what her mother wanted for her anymore. Their conversation was civil, Evelyn had a flair for dramatics and turned on the waterworks from time to time, but Celia wouldn’t budge anymore. She’d given her mother seventeen years of her happiness; it was her own turn now.

At twenty-four Celia could have accomplished more hadn’t she let Stanford slip through her fingers, but unlike other people she’d gone to school with, she didn’t walk through life like a zombie anymore. Sure, there were many who would prefer a life as a socialite and be happy doing what her mother does day in and day out, but that could never be her. Not again. She isn’t as naive anymore, nor did she only see the good in people anymore, but Celia still believes in the good in people over the bad. While her mother more than praises herself for shaping her youngest daughter into the woman she is today, Celia knows that her remaining faith in humanity was surely not influenced by her parents or a healthy family dynamic.

PERSONALITY

Positive: Optimistic | Independent | Responsible

Negative: Insecure | Naive | Cautious

Celia Halliwell is portrayed by Nessa.

[bluepenguinstories]

Happiness Overload Epilogue I

“New universe, new me”, isn’t that the statement?

Not like I gave a fuck what the statement was. There was more important things like saving the world (or one of them, at least), making sure the ETNA Corporation and Marco were both dead, and/or making sure I was dead.

That last one was most important. Didn’t need me fucking up my chances of victory.

So there I was, back in that familiar city, and that was when I saw myself.

Wait. Holy fuck. Has that ever happened before?

“Holy fuck. Is that me?” Me said to me.

Yeah, yeah. That was confusing, but that wasn’t me who said that. That was me.

I probably asked me if that was me, too, but I couldn’t remember.

Before I knew it, I saw me run up to go kick my ass (just like I would’ve done to me, let’s be real), but as soon as I saw myself start to run across some train tracks, a train at top speed sped by and hit the me that was headed toward me. I heard the screams, the splat.

I flinched. Cringed, even. That was really how it was with me, wasn’t it? So cringe. So much blood and guts, and I had to watch.

“Top ten Kelly Roger deaths: number nine will shock you,” I found the words to say at long last.

It never got easier, did it? Always watching myself die and then going off elsewhere to fuck shit up. At least couldn’t it be a little less gruesome? Seriously, I probably had nine counts of PTSD.

I more or less stood in place as the train went by. I say “more or less” as if I didn’t just stand in place while the scene kept playing over in my head.

Yeah, rather un-epic of me, but IN MY DEFENSE, everyone else around me had gotten out of their cars, or stopped what they were doing in the crowded streets, all to watch the tragedy of one dumbass doing a dumbass thing (note: you’re supposed to look both ways before you cross, you idiot). Finally, when the train went on about its way and there was a dark red stain on the train tracks, I decided to take off to the next universe. With any luck, the next time I watched myself die wouldn’t be as gruesome.

“Kelly Roger, is that you?”

“Son, sometimes daughter?”

What-the-

I squinted. It was my parents. They ran across. Great. Were they gonna get ran over too?

Nope. They stood right next to me. Greeeaaaat. How do I worm my way out of this one?

“I thought you died!” My mom burst into tears. “Just now, in fact!”

“Oh, yeah. I did. But I got better,” were the words I used to worm my way out. Yes, many people used “weasel out” as the analogy, but back in my humble beginnings, I used to put malware and “worms” on people’s computers just for fun. Ah, back when things were more simple.

“I don’t understand, but I’m so glad you’re okay!” My mom hugged me real tight even though I was wearing a super badass suit and being hugged like that wasn’t so super badass.

“Yeah, yeah, real talk though, is there anything called ‘ETNA’ in this universe?”

“A what-Na?” My dad asked, as if I was the one who told bad jokes.

“Oh, what about anyone named Marco? Know anyone like that?”

They both shook their heads. That stirred up some emotions. That could only mean one thing: I won. I finally did it! I didn’t have to go to other universes! I saved the day, just like I knew I would! Except there was just ONE thing I had to confirm.

“Do you guys have Wi-Fi?”

“Y-yes,” both my parents sobbed. “We do.”

Whoa. This really was the best timeline.

I stripped out of my Kamen Rider costume (that wasn’t what it was? Too bad. I’ve already decided a few universes ago that’s what it was). Don’t worry, I was still wearing clothes. No need to sweat the small stuff. Speaking of…

“KR, your pits smell like ass,” my mom sounded concerned.

“Yes,” I laughed and sobbed in good measure. I was just so happy to get my perfect ending. “Yes they do.”

“Would you like to come back home with us,” my dad asked, coming in clutch. As if he even had to. Everyone knew I loved places that had Wi-Fi living with people who loved me.

All was well; it was the perfect ending that I totally deserved, up until one final moment: when we came home and as soon as my parents opened the apartment door, we were greeted by someone I both never expected to see, and never wanted to see. Unless I was just seeing someone who looked like someone I didn’t want to see, which, either way, I didn’t want to see what I was seeing.

“Welcome home, guys,” she spoke, her brown ponytail flapping in the lack of wind. “Missed you, honey,” she kissed my mom on the cheek.

“Oh, Celia V,” my mom giggled, something gross and  unwarranted. But also...what? The fuck? Celia-fucking-fuck? “My husband is right there.”

“How did you get here?!” I balked.

“That’s right, we didn’t tell you,” my dad went on to explain. “When you left home, we were quite lonely and, coincidentally, after going out for dinner one night, there was this poor woman begging for money on the street. She said she was an orphaned twenty-something who had just left home and quit her job because her boss was, like, the literal devil or something. We really like having her around.”

“And her name is…?”

“Celia V, like your mom said.”

Okay, okay. Relax. There had to be some kind of explanation for that. Like, probably a whole “alternate universe version of that person” sorta thing. Yeah. Totes plausible.

Would have been, until once I stepped through the door, she leaned over and whispered to me:

“I fucked your mom.”

On the outside, I was a hero. Savior of many. On the inside, I was screaming.

“By the way, tonight is pizza night. It’s Celia’s favorite,” my dad informed me.

Papa Dad’s pizza. My least favorite. Actually, it was super great. Only the cheesiest and greasiest, but trust me, when you work a job at a fast food franchise, you start to find that food gross.

“Oh, also, we’re gonna binge watch Boruto tonight,” my mom added. “It’s Celia’s favorite show.”

WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON WHERE IS MY SUIT I WANT OUT OF THIS UNIVERSE.

After hours of watching some shitty uncultured show, I finally managed to excuse myself to my room. How did my parents enjoy that garbage? Naruto was much higher quality. Like sharp chedder vs blue cheese. In case it wasn’t obvious, sharp cheddar was the higher quality.

Once in my room, however, the nightmare continued. On the top bunk, there she was: alright laying down and reading some shitty manga. On the bottom bunk was a buncha computer equipment which would’ve been super cool had it belonged to me, but because it wasn’t, it was lame.

“Where am I supposed to sleep?!”

“Aw, kiddo. There’s a sleeping bag in the closet. Just try not to let any fallen computer parts crush you to death. It’s quite messy in there.

“This is my room! I’m their kid! Their 20 year old kid, but still!”

“Yeah, but I fucked your mom.”

I was fuming. What a power move. Such a gross, disgusting power move that I didn’t ever want to think about, in fact, I’d rather think about one of the many times I’ve seen myself die than think about that, but a power move all the same.

“At least there’s Wi-Fi in this apartment. If this is the worst it can get, I think I can manage.” I thought was an innocent enough thought to say aloud, but it wasn’t. It was a war crime.

“Oh, also, in case you’re wondering, I found out how to travel through dimensions, too, all so I could ditch my boss. So, yes. We got history.”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

The End.

Bonus:

The next day, I sat in the living room and sulked. My dad walked by, worried about my mental state.

“What’s wrong, KR?” Dad asked.

“Celia V. fucked my mom,” I replied, any sense of joy absent from my voice.

My dad laughed.

“That’s not possible, because I’m married to your mom.”

Over in the dining room, Celia V. stood and sneered.

“I fucked your mom, shitlips.”

The nightmare just would not end.

[thetimelordbatgirl]

Random scattered thoughts about D3 under the cut

*The fact that everyone has basically abandoned Audrey though......where goodness doesn't get better? More like 'we'll abandon you once your dumped by our king and also rub it in your face that you couldn't hold a prince like your mother could'- also Audrey knows about the love spell and WHY Mal did it, but if that's the, case then everyone knows and still doesn't care that Mal did that- like the one person with brain cells is Audrey and shes the villain of this movie.

*Queen of Mean is a bop though- its one of the only valid songs in this movie, but also with the evil laughter almost that could be heard BEFORE Audrey puts on the crown, it makes me wonder if they planned to have Audrey be possessed after all.

*One Kiss is literally just gay panic the song, no I don't take arguments its literally Evie in gay panic mode and its Disney having to do that one heterosexual song to remind us that no, only heterosexual couples are valid in this universe- also despite dating for three years, Evie struggles to tell Doug she loves him and even doesn't believe her true loves kiss wont work???? WOW- can we say, clearly goals to have a relationship where bae stalks you originally and you struggle to tell him you love him after three years of dating and after sharing a cottage with him?

*Night Falls is a cool song, but I love how as soon as Uma tries to lead, Mal gets bitchy and acts like she can lead a sword fight better then a pirate captain could- like, mal chill, your not queen yet.

*Mal as Hades daughter.......lemme just uh, stress that's the worst twist in history, literally over-powers Mal once more with now god blood- and Do What You Gotta Do is literally daddy issues the song, and despite having the same parenting as Maleficent with how he neglected Mal basically, Hades is somehow the better parent?? HOW?! Also its never showed how Mal learnt this information.....did Disney forget to write that in or- and of course, Mal must be the only VK of the core four with a good parent- cause of course, Mal must have everything as always.

*Audrey singing Happy Birthday while cursing the party and singing 'dear jane' while smiling evilly......can we just uh say, she at least got down with the aesthetic of being a villain?

*Oh yeah, speaking of villains- despite being promoted as villains, Hades does nothing basically besides drain Mal of her magic and all 'evil' scenes from trailer is just him doing random shit or good shit, while Uma is more of a anti-hero while Celia is kinda just there doing scamming and such- Audrey was the only accurate villain to promotion and even then she only got one trailer.

*My Once Upon A Time is literally Pity Me the song and Mal even sings at the end about reaching greatness and such- Jay, Evie, Carlos and Ben got stonned for this shit.

*Also yes, they literally stonned Ben, Carlos, Jay and Evie cause only Mal can take part in final fight.

*ALSO- MAL LIED- like, girl literally lied to her friends about the isle barrier and didn't tell them she was going to seal it up, and when confronted about it, she acts like she had no choice when she MADE the decision on her own and then after friends get stonned, she goes into pity song mode and doesn't suffer much consequences for the lie afterwards.

*Audrey saying to Mal though about the love spell and how its a touching story for the grandkids.......grandkids in the future felt that burn.

*Mal is cursed into a old hag and Ben into a beast......except Mals curse wears off under the barrier while Bens is soon enough fixed by Jane blasting enchanted lake at him- just......cant have true love fix curses like they do in the movies, nah, that means our couple being true love.

*Audrey nearly fucking dies- thanks plot for nearly killing the WOC princess.

*"Mal came through"- yeah, after planning to seal up the barrier and abandon every kid on the isle basically- but its okay they didn't know so its okay, TIME TO CELEBRATE MAL AGAIN-

*Lady Tremaine's character is fucking weird- in descendants 2 they say shes not a good grandma, but here she is?! Can Disney make up their mind on how the characters are written?!

*Celia and her relationship with her father though is precious, y'all can fight me on it.

*Mal literally saying she has to be queen of the isle as well- one, excuse you that's Uma's title and two, the isle IS apart of Auradon and is a PRISON, then again, descendants 2 forgot this detail when trying to act like being from a place where VKs are abused by their parents is something you cant ignore so why am I not surprised Descendants 3 is continuing that trend.

*Mal is drained of her magic but this isn't even explored cause she gets it back when Hades gives her the ember- so guess we cant even see Mal be forced to fight a battle without magic.

*Also Hades gives Mal the ember at the end for good- BUT WHAT WILL SHE DO WITH IT?! Its probably gonna go in the museum lol- so he basically lost his weapon as well.

*The Smee twins are also precious, and the fact that Smee cares about them is adorable- plus Smee is kinda accurate in design so.

*Jay being a big brother to all....precious- but also hes clearly gay for Gil sorry don't make the rules.

*Carlos and Jane must be protected from the plot.

*Evie's plot is good as well, but her whole 'struggling to say I love you to doug' is still bullshit plot.

*Doug is as boring as ever- next.

*Uma is a queen as always- her boys were so happy to see her again and she looked so happy to see them as well, let alone seeing the sun finally when the barrier fell at the end.

*Which brings me to uh, the ending.....THEY TORE DOWN THE BARRIER- like, the entire Isle is free now, not just the VKs but also villains- VILLAINS WHO IN FIRST MOVIE WANTED REVENGE- villains who will likely hurt their kids in Auradon still and villains who will likely not want to play peaceful and happy families- I thought Mal knew how villains worked, but she thinks villains will wanna play good guys? What happened to 'your parents cant reach you here' in film 1? NOW THEY CAN- Jasmine already fucking calling bullshit if Jafar thinks he can roam free.

*Hades at the end.......uggghhhh- Mal as his kid still makes no sense and never will and we get it, protective dad joke- WE GET IT- god, those jokes tire me sometimes.

*Disney really better not be acting like they deserve an award for that Hades and Mal twist- everyone saw it coming, you gave it away with Mal's hair and the teaser trailer- which is also never explained in D3 so lol.

*Disney: *doesn't have Lonnie being mentioned at all* Lonnie: "Am I a joke to you?"

*Chads weak as always- again, next.

*Audrey does get a apology finally but um, it took THREE YEARS to do so! Y'all asked for her revenge! Like, I love Ben but who the fuck says to a pissed off person that's about to curse you and your trying to talk them out of it, "I'll forgive you" like- DUDE NO-

*VK Day is still bullshit and that's just facts- also I love how they like I wish we could take you all- WHY. CANT. YOU?! You have power to take them all of it! But you DONT! In fact, Mal later decides to seal up the barrier at one point meaning she had to abandon the VKs there and even prevent Celia from seeing her dad again! So guess she forgot the VKs and was like 'yeah seal that fucker up cause Hades stole my magic'.

*Mal needing cheering in final fight......yayyy- I didn't need anymore reminders this was a Mal movie.

*Remember when HSM3 at least felt connected to the prior movies? D3 doesn't even FEEL connected- your expected to read books that may not stand a chance at getting mentioned- also had a entire different thing with Mal's dad but Disney erased that despite connecting the books each time they said to read a book before seeing the film- and in D3, a lot of shit just feels separate to the previous two- let alone the major time skip making it harder to connect- with Young Justice, while timeskips happen you still get hints at what happened inbetween those timeskips- but with D3? None is mentioned- so your left with this as the last movie and yeah, its just messy really.

*Well at least Huma won- we got one good ship in this movie at least- too bad its surrounded by a mess.

*Thank fuck there's no more descendants movies after this- sure, its sad and descendants still has a place with me- well with the aspects I like/the characters I like- but at the same time, a fourth descendants would be disrespectful to Cameron Boyce, the only Carlos really and of course, considering how messy D3 was and how Mal centred it became, a fourth movie really is not in the future- its sad I know, but at the same time, at least descendants can live on in fandom.

[eliyah-de-dark]

It’s been rough for me as a writer these past few months. Between work uncertainties, moving, and general mental health, I haven’t been able to write anything -fanfic or original - in what feels like forever. Then out of the blue this morning, I had an idea that managed to make it onto the screen. I want to write so much more for this, so bear with me.

Word count: 2618

Genre: Sci-fi, I suppose.

Pops always said revolutions are simple. Enough good people stand up, and the bad ones don’t have a prayer. His words repeat in my mind as the small town car rolls further down the dirt road. Dark smoke travels in plumes across the sky, painting it like a rainless storm across the prairie. They trail back to Broken Hill Correctional Facility. The cement and steel giant dominates the skyline as soon as it’s in view, its smoke stacks pumping out the acrid smog at high speeds. 

The first time I came here, the cabbie told me Broken Hill used to be a town. You can see the skeleton of it behind tall barbed wire fences. I watch as prisoners are dragged about by their chains from the collapsing houses and pulled into the main building. My eyes search each person’s face, but I don’t see him. He must already be in the factory. The closer we get to the gates, the more guards appear on their patrols like ants on parade.

Like everything in Broken Hill, the gates to enter the grounds are large woven steel. Two guards stand on either side of it, their gas masks reflecting the light from the car as we park in front of them. Seems no matter how many times I’ve been here, a pit opens in my stomach as they approach. 

I put on my mask just before the window comes down, but the smell of burning flesh makes its way through the cracks in the seal. My body’s reaction is instant coughing, desperate to keep the poisoned air out of my lungs. “You alright, miss?” The guard at my window asks. I can’t see his face due to the tinted glass of his mask, but I can hear the concern in his voice. 

I nod, forcing another painful cough down. The effort makes my chest hurt. “Yes, thank you,” I manage to say. My fingers fish into my pocket and pull out a small card. “My ID, sir.” His thick black gloved hand plucks it out of my grasp and brings it close to the glass piece of his mask. 

“You cut your hair?” He asks. 

“Yessir.”

He looks at me, his eyes leaving a chill that shoots through my spine. “Welcome back, Ms. Esmeray.” I bite my tongue as he says that name. He hands the card back, and I smile as I take it. The gate opens with the horrid screech of metal on stone. The car rolls forward onto the long tarmac that leads to the prison’s entrance. 

The warden waits with a small group of guards at the end of the road. He stands out for a number of reasons. Sure, his uniform has more accolades attached to it, but the poor stitches strain to fit around the rotund man. I look at the buttons and wonder which one will break first. 

At a nod from him, two guards approach the car. They open the door and help me out. I murmur my thanks to them before approaching the man of the hour. “Warden Beale, how nice to see you again,” I say with a smile. He straightens up, almost like a dog getting praise. 

The guards behind me return to their spots in the warden’s little parade. “Can you believe it’s been 6 months already? My my, how time flies!” Warden Beale sniggers as he waddles closer. He grabs my hand and shakes it, ignoring the stiffness of my joints and the vice-like grip I give.

“How is he?”

Warden Beale huffs. “Relax, he ain’t going nowhere. You’ll have plenty of time to visit with him.” He snaps his fingers and the guards advance. My heart beats so hard it hurts as they surround me. “It’s a long drive from Stardust City, why don’t you get some grub from the lounge? Show her the way, boys.” The amused tone of his voice makes entering the prison so much worse. Like a clown inviting you into a haunted house.

I keep pace with the guards as they escort me through the dingy halls. Seems like they get darker and darker every time I come here. Once we are far enough away from the doors, I slide my gas mask off. The guards keep theirs on. They guide me through halls I’ve tried to memorise for months. We walk onto a catwalk that gives a view of the prison’s factory floor. The heat blazing from the open hearth furnaces passes through the glass and turns my coat into a sauna. How can the guards stand wearing heavy wool in here? Down on the floor, I can see legions of prisoners shovelling stones into the maw of the furnaces. I can’t make out any faces from here. The heat distorts the exact features, and distance makes them unfocused. Is he down there? Is that why I can’t see him yet?

The guards direct me on, gently nudging me off the catwalk and onto a series of cleaner, better lit halls. Here guards mill about without their masks, talking and laughing amongst each other. Their uniforms are identical to my guides, but they lack the silver six sided stars and black peaked caps that marked the upper echelon. As we pass, we are stared at, whispered about, pointed and gestured to. Our steps silence conversations and make way for awkward silence. It follows us into the lounge. The room is lavish compared to the rest of the facility. Old worn out couches with faded patterns, plastic tables with cracks in their poles, cold unidentifiable food with flies all around. Only the best apparently, I think, sarcasm dripping like the leak in the corner. I skip the food and go take a seat on the couch. 

A speaker in the corner of the cramped room plays soft music, until it fades out and an electronic voice cuts in. “This music was brought to you by Diamontronics. Get the best for you and your loved ones with Diamontronics’ extensive selection of technology and services.” I roll my eyes. At the very least, it’s not another Stardust Enterprise ad. I’ve managed to drown those out back in the city. 

A guard flops onto the seat beside me. I scoot closer to the edge, and they look at me through their heavily tinted gas mask before I hear them chuckling. “Sorry, guess I spooked ya.” He takes off his mask and peaked cap to show dark skin and tight black dreadlocks that spilled into his eyes. “Name’s Taher.” 

“Celia.”

He chuckles. “I know, warden’s been talking about you all day.” That isn’t disconcerting to hear. I adjust my sleeve and focus on the toe of my boot. “So Stardust, huh? Good city?”

“Yeah, it’s cool.”

He clicks his tongue, which I guess means he agrees. After that is just more silence. I fiddle with the hem of my shirt. “You from around here?” I glance at him from the corner of my eye. 

He shrugs. “Grew up on a Lyfoods farm. It was alright, but I chose to move up in the world, yanno?” A small, genuine smile grows on my lips. 

We listen to the music now, the only aggravation coming from ad breaks. Taher taps his foot along to the melodies and hums. His voice is nice. When I tell him so, he blushes. “Think it’s good enough for Stardust City?” He chuckles. 

I tap my finger on my lips and pretend to think. “Maybe, if the right rep hears you.” I hold back a laugh as I see his face light up. 

“You really mean it?”

My nod leaves him grinning ear to ear. He is about to say something when the speaker crackles and the warden’s voice comes through. “Bring Ms. Esmeray to Visitation, Room 228.” It’s like someone flipped a switch in Taher. He stands up immediately, sliding his mask and hat back on, and offers his hand to me. I let him help me up and follow him and another guard who had been waiting at the door. 

Visitation is nearby, I remember it from other trips. Third story, just above the factory floor. Prevents prison escapes, I’d guess. These hallways are like the ones near the entrance, poorly lit and rarely cleaned. We walk in silence, except for the rhythmic thump of the machinery below. Room 228 looks identical to the rooms around it, lit by one lightbulb in the center of the room which shines down on a steel table and two chairs, all welded to the floor. 

Pops sits facing the door. His face, his hands, his clothes, everything is covered in soot. Rage strikes my heart as I see his hands, blistered and bloody, cuffed to the table so tightly he can’t move them. The only real sign of life is in his eyes. They almost seem to grow brighter as he looks at me. “Celia.” His voice is rough, like sandpaper on the ears. There’s a faint tone of the melodious voice I grew up with, one that sang and told stories and comforted a sad little girl, but it’s almost gone. 

I rush in and kneel at his side, ignoring Taher and his companion as they close the door. “Are you alright, Pops?” My hands cup his face as tears begin streaming down his face. I pull my hand away and search my pockets until I find a crumpled up napkin. As gently as I can, I wipe at his face to reveal the pale skin beneath. Or what should be pale skin. His face is varying shades of red, a sign of working the furnaces all day. 

I place a kiss on his forehead. “I’ll bring some burn ointment next time,” I whisper as softly as I can. 

He gives the smallest shake of his head. “Don’t risk it, it won’t do you any good if you get caught.” His fingers twitch. I go to hold his hand, but the blood and puss give me pause. Touching will hurt, I think. I grab the hem of my shirt and pull, ripping the fabric in uneven strips. “Celia, what are you -” His chastisement is interrupted by hisses of pain as I wrap the wounds. I know this won’t help long term, but when I put my hand in his now, he flinches less. “Just like your grandmother. Ya don’t think these things through.” He tries to sound serious, but soon we’re laughing. 

Seeing him smile does nothing for the anger I feel. Seeing him in this condition, it makes me want to go out and throw Beale in the very furnaces that make this room a sweltering nightmare. I don’t mention this to Pops. He wouldn’t approve. Didn’t the last time, anyway. His eyes twinkle in the dismal light. “So how’s life in Stardust City going?”

I shake my head and make my way to the chair opposite him. “I hate it.” No need to beat around the bush. “I wish I were back with you and Abuelita on that little farm outside Oubliette Pass.” Saying it outloud conjures images of the looming mountains, the green fields, the little blue creek that ran through the corner of the property, Abuelita cooking dinner while Pops and I play chess in the front room. I’m not surprised to have tears running down my face.

Pops squeezes my hand. I imagine the pressure like a hug, the smell of soot replaced with cherry campfire smoke and tobacco. “I miss it too, kiddo.” He tries to smile, but I can tell the memories are just as painful to him. “At least you’re taken care of, for now. How are the others?”

My eyes drift away from his face to anywhere else in the room. Even the corner is better. I don’t want to see his face when I say, “I don’t know. No one’s reached out.” The disappointed hum he makes is just as bad as seeing the light dim in his eyes. “They must all be pretty happy.”

He scoffs, his grip tightening for a second. “They’re as happy as their consciences will allow.” Those old failing eyes scan the room, and I join him. A camera sits in the corner closest to the door, a bright diamond emblem on it. Once we both acknowledge it, he leans in closer and whispers, “Has anyone sent a message for me?”

My head shakes, and he leans back and sighs. “Tell me about your life since our last visit. I want to know everything.” Like a button had been pressed, he went from tired and sad to upbeat and excited, hands squeezing mine and eyes shining.

I tell him about school, about the “friends” that I have, the clubs I’m a part of, and anything else that’s relatively normal. Despite his prodding, I avoid the topics of home life. He doesn’t deserve to suffer that knowledge. Let him think my life is all unicorns and rainbows, if it helps him make it day to day. He becomes intrigued when I mention an internship. “An internship? With Stardust Enterprises? That’s very impressive, Celia!” He sounds like any other grandfather in that moment, all pride and happiness.

I can’t help but smile. “Mr. Esmeray told me about it, and said I would be his first choice if I accept.” My excitement drops through the pit in my stomach that the heat around us reminds me of. “Maybe I could use it to help you.” 

It was meant to be a murmur, but the change in Pops’ expression tells me it wasn’t. His leathery face turns hard. “Listen to me, Celia Reyes,” The use of my real last name sends a chill across my body, “You need to focus on your life. I failed in my attempts to change the world, so it’s up to you kids to find a better way.” His face remains still as the door swings open. 

One of the guards breaks my grip on Pops while the other lifts me out of the seat. “No, wait! Five more minutes, please! Pops!” I scream as they drag me out of the room.

The last things I hear Pops say for the next six months are the words “I love you, Celia,” before the door gets slammed on him. 

The guards try to get me to walk, but sobs shake my body so violently I can’t stand. I crumble to the floor and bury my hands in my face. One puts their hand on my shoulder, and I hear Taher speak to me. “I’m sorry,” He says, he doesn’t mean to whisper, but the mask dampens his voice, “I wish I could help.” He nods to his companion. The pair lift me to my feet and carry me down the halls.

Warden Beale meets us just outside of the Visitation wing. He grins when he looks at the tear tracks on my face. “A very heartwarming visit, I’m sure,” He sneers. “Have a good trip back to Stardust City.” He tips his hat to me before gesturing to Taher, a cue I know means get her out of here. 

We remain still until Warden Beale leaves. Taher speaks again, “Can you walk?” I nod, and he relaxes his grip on me. It takes a second for the other guard to do the same. The pair march me out of the prison and back to the idling town car. 

As I climb in, Taher calls out to me. “I’ll see you if I ever make it to Stardust City!”

I give him one last smile and a wave. “No you won’t,” I whisper once the door closes.

---

Would anyone be interested in reading more of this? Got any critiques or spell check errors you see? Let me know!

[idk-my-aesthetic]

isle kingdom au

so i’ve had this idea for an AU for a little while, but i don’t wanna actually write anything for it until i’m done w/ my current descendants wips, but i also wanna talk about it lol so ig im making a post? please send me asks about it i wanna talk about it.... anyway

**tw for child abuse and semi-graphic descriptions of violence.

basically the premise of the au is that even though he tried to get it passed at first, ben never went through with pulling the vks off the isle. he kept meaning too, but it just kept being pushed to the back of his list of priorities bc he was so busy w/ being king and never happened 

so bc of this, the core 4 stayed on the isle and never got off it. if you’ve read the stuff in my keep them close series u probably have a better idea of my hc of the isle, but the basics of it are that 1) most of the parents are really bad and abusive + the conditions are disgusting 2) none of the kids are really evil and 3) the vks are all kinda frenimes/rivals and will work together to keep eachother alive even if they act like they hate eachother or will even hurt eachother

so, in the ‘canon’ timeline before going to auradon the core 4 are a gang and slowly gaining power. they’re already the top of the vk gangs and are like gaining on some of the adult ones.

bc they never go to auradon, they just kinda keep doing what they already are and gain more and more power. but, as they gain power their parents start becoming afraid of them and acting like more abusive in attempts to keep the core 4 under their control 

ok bare w/ me for this next bit bc it’s gonna sound real ooc for like a sec then make sense

so, as they’re gaining power and their parents are haveing more and more trouble controlling them their parents are becoming more and more violent.

im not sure on the order yet, but basically cruella, jafar, eq, and malifacent all do something like really really bad to their respective kid, so one of the other core 4 kills them bc like. yeah. 

i have some vauge ideas of what each of them could have done and i don’t really know if i want to say them or even use them tbh bc they’re like.... bad, like real bad. which they kinda have to be, you know? bc like.... none of the core 4 would turn to killing if they didn’t have a real good reason, and their parents continuing the abuse that they always have woulden’t be enough, so the parents would have to do something really really bad for one of the others to justify killing them 

its important to mention that none of them kill their own parent. it’s always one of the other 4, im not sure who kills who just yet, but none of them kill their own parent. They’re saved from their parents by each other and they never really have any confrontation with their parents (which will change l8r 👀👀, let me explain)

Even tho they didn’t kill their own parents, everyone kinda assumed they did in order to take their places/gain power. A handful of their friends know the real story, but it’s mostly kept under wraps and it’s like general “knowledge” that they killed their parents for power. They’re not really hiding it or anything, I mean they did still each kill one of the 4 most powerful villains so it’s not like anyone is gonna be less afraid if they knew the truth. ppl just make assumptions and never really question them and they just let ppl think what they do

So bc their parents are dead and they let everyone assume they killed their own parent they very easily climb up the ranks and end up in charge of the isle bc atp they’re seen as the most ruthless/evil/powerful

So now that they’re in charge of the isle they start like..... actually making it a livable place. Ofc at first they try to make a version of Carlos’s machine to break the barrier, but they can’t get it to work so he just modifys it to steal magic from the barrair for them to use. (Another idea stolen from my keep them close series but like I like the idea lol)

And when I say they make it a livable place I mean they start doing stuff like building water purifiers, making like safe houses, establishing some kind of working economy, taking control of the barge drop offs and how everything is distributed, fixing broken electricity, etc etc

A lot of what they do is based off of Carlos’s machines and designs, which like obvi other ppl are helping him gather materials and for and build, since he has power bc he’s like one of the ppl in charge. And he like teaches other ppl how to do what he does and fix anything that goes wrong

Evie kinda puts herself in charge of setting up like medical centers + homes for kids and stuff. Also some kinda way to grow food. B4 they’re in charge nothing can really grow but they use the magic they steal from the barrier to make stuff grow. And evie can use it to make like lots of healing items and such

Jay ends up mostly in charge of like collecting and distribution of their recourses. At first like the barge is kinda a hugeeee problem to deal with bc ppl are fighting over the like moldy food and destroyed clothes and stuff. But eventually they get it organized and have stuff sent to the respective place it should, like clothes and scrap fabric are sent to a place that repairs and sells them, parts and electronics are sent to Carlos or his helpers, etc

Other minor vks like Celia, dizzy, the sea three, Diego, etc are all in this two but this is already really long so just know they’re like helping and like pretty high ranking/highly regarded. Send me an ask with questions please

Mal is kinda regarded as the ultimate leader/queen of the isle ig even though the other 3 have basically the same amount of power. Mostly bc her job ends up being keeping the adults who dislike them inline and keeping their power as heads of the isle

Most ppl are just kinda chill w/ them being in charge, especially a lot of the ppl who were banished for minor crimes. A few of the adult villains try to fight them and end up dead lol, and anyone caught doing especially bad things, like r*pe, hurting someone they shouldn’t have, being a child abuser, etc will end up killed by mal or one of the others. They don’t kill u for like every crime obviously only the like inexcusable ones. Stuff like stealing or mental illness or w/e they basically just help you work through

They’re aren’t any like real laws ig but they deal with issues as they go and give harsh punishments if needed. It serves to keep themselves seen as strong/evil/powerful despite all the good they do and helps keep others too afraid to challenge them. Like frollo isn’t going to challenge them if Ursula tried the same thing and got killed. (The fact that she abused uma and her siblings obviously had nothing to do with that,,,,,,,,,,,)

So yeah! They basically turned the isle into a inhabitable place in the years that they spent as its leaders, and it functions as its own kinda kingdom despite its harsh and confusing laws/rules

But we ain’t done yet, lol

Basically everything I’ve just explained is.... mostly backstory? Kinda? It’s the type of thing where you slowly find out about all this stuff while they actual story goes on, but I figured it’d be less confusing to explain it first :3

So the Actual story starts a few years after when Ben originally was supposed to take the vks off the isle. He, all the other princess/princes he want to school with, the core 4, the sea 3, etc are all in their mid to early 20s.

Auradon has basically no clue what’s the deal w/ the isle. They’re only interaction w/ them is through the like goblins that bring over the trash barges, but those guys are chill and basically don’t tell the aks anything lol.

So Ben is ruling his kingdom, and the core 4 are ruling their own, both sides are doing pretty well and ignoring each other, but then! All of a sudden there’s these sudden deaths/fires/some kinda terrorist attack on the outskirts of the kingdom.

I haven’t thought through this part too much, but basically he knows that they’re is some kinda threat, but he doesn’t know excatly what it is. All he does know is that the villain that is attacking is demanding to speak to the children of malifecent, jafar, cruella devil, and the evil queen.

He basically rounds up the heroes of those respective stories bc they’re all being threatened in some way or another. The mystery villain continues to do more damage and seems basically impossible to beat, and has given them a time limit b4 they’ll go and start destroying more

They discuss their options and decide their best plan is to go to the isle and convince them core 4 to help, bringing along the heroes and some of the main aks w/ them

Obviously it doesn’t go well bc they show up and mal basically has them arrested lmao

Again I have more in-depth ideas for this part but this post is already wayyyy to long so I’m trying to hurry and finish up

The talk, vks meet their respective heroes, everything is from ak/hero POV so as they explore the isle and talk to the core 4 and other vks they slowly find out about all ^^^ that stuff up there

The core 4 are eventually agree, and they go to face the villains only to find out its their parents who have been resurrected!!!! Fuck!!!!

Idk how or why just yet lmao but I will soon

Parents are obvi pissed, core 4 face their own parents and finally get like some kinda closer or smthn idk I feel like y’all get the gist

in the end auradon agknolages the isle as its own kingdom and the core 4 as its leaders and open trade/remove the barrier so the isle can continue to grow bc it’s been struggling due to lack of recourses

And that’s like the basic outline of my au! I wanna write it eventually but tbh I’m expecting eventually to be like 3 years from now bc of how much other stuff I have so for rn I’m just gonna blog about it. Obviously there’s a lot of other stuff/plots/emotional arcs etc I didn’t talk about bc like This Post Is So Long I’m So Sorry, So please please please send me asks/questions/comments/even your own ideas!!! Please. Everything about this will be tagged with “isle kingdom au” :3

[thelifeofkaiblog]

Tomorrow will be a game changer.

•*•*• 16th December 2019 •*•*•

My dad’s mum “Agnes” (85ish) has been emotionally abusive for 50+ years. She had 3 kids: A, B and C. My dad is B and the other two are his sisters (one 2 years older, one 2 years younger). A was her favourite, then C, then Dad. She was deliberately intimidating, very strict, Never happy with him and told him he’d always be useless. A could almost never do anything wrong in her eyes and C got a level of it somewhere between my dad and A.

All 3 had 2 children each. A had “Abbie” (26) and “Aaron” (23). B had me (24) and my brother (21). C had “Carly” (26) and “Celia” (21). Abbie, Aaron and Carly are all joint favourites of Agnes. Then Celia and my brother are next. I’m not even on the board. I don’t know why, but she has always been nasty to me whenever we visited.

She also spoke down to me about my mum and almost tried to make my dad leave her, saying she “trapped” him by getting pregnant with me when they had only known each other for a few months. Even though she had never said she was proud of my dad or even liked him, she still didn’t think my mum was good enough - I think she meant not good enough to be linked to her, rather than not good enough for her son that she didn’t treat very well. I’d say that’s partly why she doesn’t like me, but she has been fine with my brother.

Growing up, we saw her once or twice a year. My dad’s dad “Benny” was nice enough, but her being horrible to me and cold to my mum put us off going. When I was about 12, my Mum stopped going to see them completely, aside from the rare family gathering with A, C and their families. None of my cousins liked me. Aaron and Celia were close, as were Abbie and Carly, but my brother and I were outsiders - though Celia and Aaron were nicer to him than Carly and Abbie were to me. They became bitchy as teenagers and have stayed that way ever since - even my parents find them unpleasant. Celia was lovely, until she hit 15 and started becoming like the other two. Aaron seems to be the only one fairly happy to talk to us when we’re there, though he doesn’t really talk to me.

A is one of those people who puts on a nice exterior, but is quite snobby and looks down on you - like a subtler version of Agnes. C is a bit blunt with her thoughts and feelings, but she’s a pretty nice person. She seems to have a genuine interest in me on the rare occasion we see her, which is refreshing.

Aside from 31st May this year, I hadn’t seen any of them since Benny’s funeral in September 2017. Since I was 13 or 14, my parents gave me a choice whether or not to visit Agnes and Benny because of how Agnes treated me - though my dad was in denial, but my mum wasn’t. She said it’s not fair to force me to go through that every time, even if it was just once or twice a year. Agnes would send birthday and Christmas cards to me, like she would to the others, but she always treated me badly in person and I wasn’t allowed to say anything because it would come back to bite my dad.

On 31st May, I decided to give her a chance, as she was a widow and I was hoping she may have softened a bit with age. I should have known better. She ignored me for the first couple of hours, only talking to my dad and brother - but that was expected and I called my nan (Mum’s mum) to vent and I explained that I’d mentally prepared a speech, just in case she went off on me. My nan told me to try to get through it and stay “invisible”, which was already my plan, so it’s what I did. My nan knows Agnes hasn’t been nice to me, but she didn’t realise how nasty she was - it was mostly denial because my nan tries to ignore the bad in people.

Agnes, my dad, my brother and I went to a pub for lunch. Pub portions are often big. When my brother ate all of his, she said nothing. When my dad left some, she said nothing. When I left a little, she had a dig at me. If I’d have eaten it all, she’d have had a dig at me. I just tried to ignore her. I told my dad in private and he asked if I was sure she’d said something. For once, my brother backed me up and said she did. My dad told me we wouldn’t stay with her much longer, so to try to ignore her.

We got back to her house and she finally started talking to me. She asked about my job. My dad hadn’t given her the heads up that I had to leave my job when my health deteriorated. I sat there like a deer in headlights, not knowing what to say. I looked at my dad, hoping he’d take over, but he didn’t. I explained why I’d had to leave - more frequent chronic pain flare ups and one started up at work (incredibly painful and embarrassing) that lasted on and off for seven days. My doctor wrote me off as indefinitely too ill to work because I was in pain most days, with no pattern, so no reliability for work.

She scoffed and essentially tore into me about how she believes my health problems are all because I’m 7 stone overweight. She didn’t even have to shout it, she was just pushing it on to me. I was gobsmacked and had no idea what say. I looked to my dad and brother, who were both on their phones. I was desperate for one of them to intervene and tell her to shut up. They did nothing. I was being hounded by her about my weight, as though I hadn’t just told her my doctor has signed me off for genuine illnesses and conditions that I’d had for a long time.

I couldn’t hold it in any more. I was holding back tears and I politely, but firmly told her that she had absolutely no idea what she was talking about, she was not a doctor and I was tired of her always picking on me. She denied it, but I told her I’d had enough because she’d been doing it my whole life and I wasn’t going to take it any more. I stood up, turned to my dad and asked him why he was letting her do this to me. I asked him for the car keys and said I’d wait in the car until he was ready to leave. She tried to stop me, but I shrugged her off and told her to leave me alone, then I locked myself in the car.

My dad spoke to her in the house and came out to tell me she was bothered that she’d upset me, but he understood. I told him I felt betrayed that he hadn’t said anything to stand up for me. I cried the 2 hour drive home and, when I got home, my mum was really disappointed that my dad hadn’t intervened. It’s been 7 months and Agnes still hasn’t apologised or called to check on me. My dad has seen her a few times since, so she’s had chances, but she’s convinced she’s right. She’s done more damage than she could ever imagine and doesn’t care. I’m expendable.

A few days ago, she sent Christmas money, as usual. I told my dad I don’t feel comfortable accepting it because of everything she’s done. He understood, but said he wouldn’t said it back because it would be rude. I decided to write her a letter explaining why I didn’t want to accept it and that I’d be happy to explain about my health if she promises to be open-minded. I showed it to my parents to get their approval before sending it. The ball will be in her court once it arrives tomorrow. She either apologised and genuinely makes up for it, or I cut her out of my life. I feel more free, now that I’ve sent it. She doesn’t deserve another chance, but I’m giving her one for my dad’s sake. I just hope Agnes or his older sister don’t give him crap about it. I don’t think his younger sister would because she knows what their mum is like, even if she didn’t get it like I have.

This is my letter....

“Dear _______,

I find this letter hard to write because I’m worried it won’t be given a fair chance, but I have something important to say. I truly appreciate the money you have generously sent me for Christmas, but I am reluctant to accept it.

All I have ever wanted from you is acceptance and understanding. I don’t want the last time we speak to be negative, but I also can’t subject myself to any more insensitive judgement. The illnesses and disabilities I have, along with the constant battle for decent medical care, are difficult enough to deal with, without added negativity from anyone else - especially if they don’t know what I’ve been through and haven’t shown an interest in finding out.

I have always wanted to feel unconditionally loved and supported by you, but the nitpicking whenever I visited has made me feel less than compared to (names redacted - my cousins and brother). Its pushed me away.

I know you may not recognise that you have done this, but my parents have two and keeping the peace meant not saying anything about it for years. You also probably didn’t mean any harm, but it has damaged our relationship and how I feel about myself.

I am very grateful for your gift, but I don’t feel comfortable accepting it. Dad has said he can’t return it, but understands why I’m hesitant to receive it.

If you ever wish to try to understand me and my challenges, I am more than happy to try to explain it, but I’d need you to be open to learning about me without judgement or dismissal. It is much more complex than you believe and I hope you can Sunday accept and acknowledge that because I don’t want this to be the end of our relationship, but I won’t let people hurt me anymore.

I hope you have a wonderful Christmas and a great New Year. Please take care.

Best Wishes,

(My name redacted).

[k-9-m-595]

the editing/sentence structure on this is fucked

winter 2019

I can’t be sure what time it is, the room is starting to get less dark so I figure it’s early morning. I’m under my bed and I don’t know how long I’ve been here, I know I haven’t slept in three nights, but my eyes will keep prying themselves open. I’ve tried eating but it all comes back up, I’ve ran out of TV to watch, there’s nothing left but stare across my bedroom floor and feel my body eat itself. There’s no better place to be than under the bed when you’re dopesick.

winter 2013

There’s a sign in Nick’s basement, “thou shalt not smoke”, his mom put it up after we smoked a half ounce of weed down there. We loved it. We’d get all stoned and Nick’s mom would try to read us poetry like Robert Frost, I liked the poetry but every time she’d try to do it, Nick would yell at his mom. “Celia you stupid jew!” he’d yell at her. And I don’t know if she was Jewish but he definitely stole that line from South Park and, to be fair, Nick was a lot like Eric Cartman. But you really felt bad for the both of them because Nick’s mom thought that if she loved her son enough then he wouldn’t be an asshole. And you felt bad for Nick because his parents weren’t his real parents. His real parents were heroin addicts and Nick was born addicted to opiates. He had two biological brothers that were older and they were heroin dealers who lived out in Somerville. They had told him that his dad was a mob boss who got killed by John Gotti. And that’s what he told everyone who asked about his biological parents, except he told me the truth. But I was 13 and couldn’t help Nick, my life was fucked too, so all I could do was get stoned and laugh at his jokes, and feel bad for him.

So one day we had smoked some pot after school, and Nick comes down to the basement. He’s got three vicodin pills that he stole from his dads room, vicodin being an opiate, Nick was scared to take them but I was happy for any free drugs. And a couple of hours later my older brother came over to Nick’s house, and we got in a fistfight where my brother took a broom and broke it so hard over my arm that half the broom flew into Nick’s TV and shattered it. I didn’t feel anything from the impact and was very confused. Nick cursed out my older brother as we both left his house. Four years later Nick would rob me at gunpoint over 85 dollars. That night my brother and I walked home together, because we were both very scared of the dark.

Spring 2014

It was spring and in Massachusetts the air gets so fresh do you feel like you can taste it. And i’d taken the bus to school that morning and swallowed eight Vicodin pills. But in those days I didn’t attend or pay much attention to school, I hated it. So, considering how I wasn’t in class much I wasn’t aware that we had standardized testing that day. But I had already taken the pills, so I sat down with my MCAS test and started on it for about 15 minutes until... it had felt like I’d just been punched in the face, and I didn’t believe that anything could ever feel that good. So I started nodding out on my MCAS test. But you see, when you’re in the eighth grade no one expects you to be nodding out or abusing opiates in the first place so there you have the fact that everyone will always assume you’re tired when you’re nodding out.

That day I tried to skate home. But I passed out on my board and my mom came and found me in the grass.

late winter 2019

Massachusetts is the most beautiful place. I skip the shower, I barely throw any clothes on at all. All I care about is what’s in my pockets. Three rigs, a gram of heroin, a spoon, a lighter, cigarettes, my wallet, car keys.

During my drive to school I see the world. And the landscape of 95, an endless road, flanked by an endless grey and white, is relieved by the sky. A clear, crisp blue that is far away. On route 4 there’s a more intimate scene. You see the tree trunks, pale and scarred, their limbs reach out for each other but land in nothing. These trees have been here forever, they have died before, bloomed again, only to return the grey. Next to the Cumberland Farms is the corpse of a field, neat and frosted. Yellow stocks struggle out of the dirt.

My community college was in Bedford. They had a parking lot in the woods. I’d always have shoot heroin before class. But I couldn’t go to class high. Shooting heroin was the only time I could ever breathe.

late fall 2015

Ethan and I are sitting on the hillside, the sun is going down and it’s cold. The trees mesh into tones of brown and orange, with all their trunks and limbs still specific. The horizon is both soft and jagged in the sense that it is crudely shaped but ultimately he fades away. There is smoke coming from the chimneys. The houses are warm, but we aren’t allowed in them. There are dark, long, and knowing mountains that only we can see. There are cars going by on Newtown Road, there is an electrical tower to the left of us with one prominent red light. And I had two cigarettes left, so we smoked them and felt amazed for a while. These towns we’d grown up in turn amazing sometimes. But we trudged back down the hill when it got dark.

late fall 2014

Now is a good time. Nick had gotten off of probation. We smoked some weed out of a handcrafted pipe which some fellow had made. It was night and we looked up at the stars while leaning up against a hay-bale. We both agreed that we would spend the rest of our lives doing this.

The moonlight is coming down through the trees in patches, as the trees are completely bare except for some evergreens. We were going somewhere but we were scared going through the hiking trails at night. I think we were going to walden pond near Chris’s house.

But we were scared so we played marines, we were too old for this but kept the secret. Our bikes trudged through the snow and were of seldom use to us as the entire strip of earth was wet and mostly mud. So many rocks to trip on but this is the kind of thing only a certain person gets to see. A single hiking trail chopped up by a white light. It was like someone had swapped out the day colors and poured a dark blue over everything. My shoes and socks were ice but I had forgotten about them, the air was pale, cold, and endless.

forest house, summer 2015

Vines, and vegetation of that sort creep up the porch and into the house. Everything is smashed in but the house holds together. There are no lights in the house and it’s gotten very dark now. And we took some LSD that Rob had. Everything was dark blue or green, and very sunken in.

Some time later I can’t make sense of the fire and there’s things going on. Some girls are dancing and happy, people are laughing and talking about smart things. They ask me about juvy. I keep on smoking cigarettes and staring at the fire. There’s a song playing with a weird bass.

The clouds sail through the sky like the armada from space. The stars are all mechanical light christmas tree lights. Ethan says he loves me and I tell him I love him too. I apologize about something, I throw up and so does Ethan.

It’s much closer to morning and we’re watching the sun come up over Littleton. Rob, Ethan, and myself walk through the woods to a large pond as it’s gotten brighter out. The bushes are tall and make up everything. We find a canoe on the shore with one paddle and head out into the middle of the pond. We all jump in and the water is warm the way a faucet is warm, everything is golden cause of the sun. We splash around for a bit then walk back to the house. Our clothes are sort of wet and Rob talks about a book that he would write.

8 hour drive winter 2019

Of course I hadn’t slept. I couldn’t tell you how much I never slept, but the morning rolls around with you sleep or not and I had things to do. Today I was driving up to Maine and the panic in my head wasn’t stopping.

Everything was quiet grey swamps that were overgrown with ice. This was still north of Bangor: Grey, cold, vast. The trees had lost weight here and blurred into each other over and over again like some insane sketch. The awesomeness of it had almost crippled me. I had spent time in the woods before and didn’t guess at how long this land repeated itself for. And these great forest become vulnerable. They expose themselves to you, growing always up and when they die they hallow themselves out. And a forest isn’t one thing because that is an intangible thing. A forest is every tree inside of it, that grows tall and crashes back down with its leaves.

[drewsleung]

⌠ ROSS BUTLER, 24, CIS MALE, HE/HIM ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, ANDREW LEUNG! according to their records, they’re a THIRD year, specializing in THREAT ELIMINATION + PROTECTION & ENFORCEMENT; and they DID NOT go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of (various sports equipment, faded photographs of people he holds dear, and the academy handbook). when it’s the virgo’s birthday on 08/24/1995, they always request their SNOWSKIN MOONCAKE from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation. ⌿ jess, 21, she/her, cst ⍀   

its ya girl..back again w a qt PI

family background: for as long as he could remember, his immediate family has always been in san francisco. sure, he’s got some cousins in sacramento, anaheim, and a swanky dj cousin in los angeles, but san francisco was it. the leungs had a local bookstore that they’ve had for generations. how they manage to keep it up despite the subtle changes in town was something that none of the leung children ever questioned. they knew the answer. they didn’t wanna know anymore than that.

as the oldest of the three leung sibs, andrew was used to mediating and protecting for pretty much every day of their lives. he was the one the others turned to for advice and as a human shield against their classmates that would have rather mean (sometimes racist) things to say to their face. at his family’s shop, he helped out with inventory and being the person in front. sometimes he would give out flyers. all in all, it was a relatively normal childhood.

the only thing that wasn’t normal ( at all ) was his knack for learning physical things quickly. whether it was a friend’s hiphop choreo for a party or some really inaccurate (but still cool looking) kung fu moves on television, andrew could watch it and practice it for a bit before being able to do it near perfectly.

his uncle noticed this particular ability of his and all but told him to start working with him in his gym. andrew’s protective spirit finally began to have a body that matched - large, rather formidable. his uncle was also handy with a few makeshift weapons - namely whatever the kids had lying around - baseball bats, tennis rackets, etc. 

the thing is: andrew is not that violent. at least, he’s not unnecessarily violent. *robert deniro vc*  he don't like to cause pain for no reason, because all his sadistic urges are satisfied when he cause pain for a good reason

personality: he’s more of a teddy bear than anything. sensitive. he likes (and writes) poetry. really good and really fascinated with words (remember zeke from the get down??? like tHAT). he also likes corny jokes a lot. that saying, his smile could honestly mean anything at any point. whether he’s smiling because he’s genuinely amused or he’s hiding his urge to physically confront someone is anyone’s guess. he usually doesn’t hesitate to communicate his thoughts. ( idk how else to explain bc im a lil sleepy but .. he’s..not afraid to cry in public.. its that type of energy. )

back to the story! his skills caught someone’s eye and subsequently invited andrew. however, he knew the family couldn’t afford it and he really didn’t want to leave san francisco ( just yet! ) and he refused. thinking that was the end of it, he went back to his normal routine thinking that all’s well ( but....he’s being observed still! )

with that, andrew spent his teenage years in sf. going to high school, helping out his fam, normal teenage stuff (with the added badassery of martial arts knowledge ig) and then....he fell in love. a girl by the name of celia whose parents were friends with andrew’s parents. after high school, the two decided to become steady and began to live together - though no plans of marriage was ever said ( im sure they thought about it tho ) and at some point during their time living together, celia became pregnant with andrew’s child. a son. ( they were like..20 years old when this happened, so they both have graduated already and were going to community college ) -- theodore michael leung ( a qt pi all on his own!! a star!! )

( death tw ) then tragedy happens when teddy turns 1. celia’s parents must have gotten the triad upset and celia’s parents were tragically slain in their home. andrew was watching teddy when he learned that in celia’s haste to get away, she was also caught in violent act. a neighbor had tried to take her to the hospital, but she was already dead when they arrived.

andrew was devastated. he moved back in with his parents, who were scared for him. his uncle ( who had triad connections ) vouched for him, however, and was told that him and teddy would be left alone. celia’s parents mistakes were not their mistakes.

but celia’s death hit him hard. his parents and the rest of the family were trying their best but he knew that a simple word wouldn’t be enough in the future. he wanted to secure teddy’s future. 

so when he was offered to go to blackthorne, he didn’t refuse. and no matter how bad things got there ( not to mention how bad the actual facilities were ), he trained hard and he didn’t try to cause a lot of trouble. 

the move to gallagher wasn’t surprising to andrew. blackthorne was basically a wilting plant waiting to be put out of its misery. it was a relief, almost. yet he knows that gallagher’s original students would take some time to get used to. i mean, come on. they have their own chefs! and the floors are so shiny, you could see yourself in them!

andrew is just here to learn the necessary skillz to protect his family, his child!1!!

the fun part! wanted connections: friendos (pleathe...), roommates (u get to squeal over pictures of his son!), some flirtationships ( drew is bi wink wonk ), and some people that he can complain about blackthorne to ( “blackthorne was wack yo. we had mystery soup” )

thank u for reading all this. ur a blessing and i hope u hav a great day!! 

[writings-of-dumpy]

The Princess and the Pirate - Chapter 3

A/N: Wow okay this is super fun to write... Let the pining begin muahahaha. Enjoy to the two people reading this!

“The.. blue bird ch.. chirped at the small black… dog,” Harry read aloud.

“Excellent! Want to write that one, or should I give you a different one?” I told him.

“I’ll write it,” Harry said with a small and shy smile. In a matter of seconds, he had written out the sentence. I smiled.

“Very good. Your penmanship is really improving quickly!” I complimented.

Harry blushed. “I’s all cause of ye, princess.”

I wrote down a classic sentence for him to read.

“The… quick brown fox.. jump.. jumped over the la..zy dogs. Yeah?” Harry read and looked to me for approval.

“You got it! That sentence has every letter in it. Think you can write it?” I asked him.

He nodded sheepishly and I nodded in encouragement.

After a minute, he showed me the sentence and it was written perfectly.

“Excellent, Harry. Absolutely superb. Want to call it quits for today? We have a ball to attend tomorrow,” I mentioned to him.

He chuckled, “Yeah, miss maid of honor.”

I rolled my eyes and smiled in amusement. “She’s like a sister to me, I’d do anything to make her happy.”

Harry nodded and packed up his books, then walked with me out of the library. “Yeah, you and Jay make a good couple.” I noticed his blank expression.

“We’re not a couple… He just asked me to the ball is it. I didn’t think anyone else would ask me,” I admitted and shrugged.

“Ye honestly couldn’t think of anyone who’d want to go to the dance with ye? Have a lady like ye on his arm for the night?” Harry asked sounding dumbfounded.

“In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not exactly the most attractive or sociable,” I chuckled.

Harry shook his head. “Oh darlin…”

“Well, you and Melody make a great couple,” I commented.

Harry cast his head down and smiled slightly.

“Thought I didn’t know did you? Why are you keeping secrets from me, hmm?” I teased.

“I knew ye knew. She asked me, anyway. I was gonna go stag,” he admitted.

“Oh, so you’re leading her on,” I nodded.

“No’ exactly. She knows we’re only going as friends,” Harry said. “She knows my heart belongs to the one and only Rayla Porter!”

I laughed at his dramatic teasing and headed up towards Kita house. “Oh sure, Romeo. See you later.”

~Harry~

Harry watched her walk into Kita house and reflected about what he had said about his heart belonging to her. He felt a slight pain in his chest when he entered Shang house and saw Jay. He and Jay were friends and there was no bad blood between them, but Harry knew that Rayla would be on his arm tomorrow night when Harry desperately wanted her to be on his.

“Harry, what do you think, man?” Jay asked him while gesturing to the navy-blue suit he had on. “It’s for the ball! Evie told me Ray’s dress is this color, so we’ll match.”

‘Fantastic. As if he needed to flaunt it,’ Harry thought.

“It looks great, mate. You’ll knock her off her feet,” he said. He wasn’t exactly lying, either… Jay did look very handsome in the suit. Harry could only imagine what Rayla would look like tomorrow.

“You and Melody matching?” Carlos asked.

“Em.. Not sure. My suit’s just basic black’n’white, so maybe,” Harry shrugged. After a few minutes, they decided to head to their separate dorms.

“You know, if you want to be with her, you should just go for it,” Ben said to Harry in his doorway.

Harry’s brow quirked. “She already asked me, though…”

Ben smirked. “I’m not talking about Melody, bro.” And with that, he left.

Harry sighed and decided to shower. As he felt the warm water hit him, he couldn’t help but think back to the time when his lips were against Rayla’s skin. Lately, Rayla was all he could think about. Harry found himself daydreaming and drifting towards her when the group was together. The night of Ben’s proposal, Harry’s eyes never left Rayla’s face. Her pale skin was illuminated by the lights they had strung up hours before and Harry nearly felt his heart leap out of his chest and run to her as if it had a mind of its own. When he turned the water off and dried himself, he was utterly engrossed in the thought of Rayla. He couldn’t get her off his mind, and he didn’t want to. Even his dreams that night were haunted with images of what he wanted from Rayla—a glance, a look, a squeeze…a kiss.

~Rayla~

“Would you zip me up, please?” Evie said from across the room. I walked over and zipped her into her gorgeous red and royal blue dress.

“All done!” I smiled and slipped on my black flats.

“How do I look?” she asked and turned to face me.

I looked at her and smiled. “Like a queen.”

She smiled and gave me a squeeze, then looked out the window and turned to me. “The carriage is here!”

We walked down the stairs and outside to see Jay and Ben waiting for us. I was surprised to see Jay had cleaned up nicely and braided his hair back. His suit was also the same color as my dress and I immediately knew Evie was behind it.

“My lady,” Ben bowed to Evie and helped her into the carriage and then followed her in.

I went to step onto the carriage when Jay offered his hand and helped me up with a hand on my waist, then followed me in.

“Thanks. You look very handsome,” I told him.

Jay smiled and blushed, then took my hand in his and gently kissed my knuckles. “You look beautiful.”

We arrived at the ceremony building across the campus and Jay helped me out of the carriage and offered his arm to me to escort me into the ballroom. I waved to Evie and allowed Jay to lead me up a flight of stairs and then wait to be announced by Lumiere.

“The Knight and Maid of honor, Jay and Rayla,” Lumiere announced into the ballroom which had fallen silent after a horn announced our arrival. Jay and I stepped forward and saw that we were above the rest of the school, who were on the main floor. We walked down the stairs and I looked out into the crowd and saw my parents in the back. I caught a glimpse of Harry and his date Melody. Harry’s eyes contacted mine and I smiled at him. He waved at me slightly and returned my smile.

Once Jay and I reached the bottom, Ben and Evie were announced and descended the stairs. They made their way to the dance floor and began the waltz. After a few steps, Jay and I joined them, then the rest of the attendees. Throughout the night there were many songs that pairs could dance to, and more often than not, Jay would be found dancing with Celia Facillier, which I found sweet. Jay and I had come as friends, so I wasn’t bothered by sitting out a few dances. I looked over and saw Harry and Melody in each other’s arms and a small wave of jealousy washed over me and I wondered what it would be like to dance with Harry. He was incredibly sweet and suave, so it would probably be like dancing with a pro. At least, that’s how it looked from here. He and Melody looked to be having a good time, so when he looked up and our eyes met once again, I smiled and gave him an encouraging thumbs up.

“Dear, why are you just by the punch bowl?” I heard my father ask from behind me.

“Well, you know me and dancing.. doesn’t exactly go well,” I told him.

He nodded. “You like it here though, I see. That’s good enough for right now. Your mother and I do worry, though.”

“I can’t imagine why you would. I’m doing perfectly in my academics,” I said.

“Well, your mother and I received a letter from the neighboring kingdom, Arendelle, and we’ve been requested to visit them in a couple of months. I’m not sure what for,” he explained.

“Oh, well that should be fun for you two. I can’t remember the last time mum took a break,” I said. Father kissed my head as the song changed to another waltz and Jay walked over to me and bowed.

“May I have this dance?” he asked officially partly to me and partly to my father. He gestured for me to go ahead and I took Jay’s hand and entered the dance floor with him for the second time this evening.

“Where did you learn the waltz?” I asked once we were in the swing of it.

“Ben taught me yesterday. Are you impressed?” Jay smirked.

“I’m more impressed that you know how to braid your hair,” I joked.

Jay laughed and spun me. “You really do look beautiful tonight.”

I blushed. “Thank you, Jay. You do too. Well, handsome, that is.”

Jay laughed. “You know, in truth, I didn’t think you would say yes to me.”

“Why would you think that?” I asked him.

He shrugged. “You and Harry seem to be close.”

“Well, I mean.. We are, but.. We’re just good friends. He flirts with everyone, you know,” I responded.

Jay nodded. “Yeah, but he’s broken plenty of hearts that way. I’d hate to see you hurt.”

“But haven’t you broken just as many? I see the way girls look at you. Especially that Celia Facillier…” I smiled.

Jay blushed. “You’re more observant than you let on, Porter… She’s something else.”

“So why didn’t you ask her?” I asked.

Jay shrugged. “Can’t I fancy two girls, as you English say?”

I laughed. “No, you can’t, Jay. And I think you only fancy one.”

Jay sighed. “You’re right… No hard feelings?”

“Jay, we’re friends. I like it that way.”

He smiled. When the song ended, we split apart and Jay went off to find Celia, no doubt. I wandered off the dance floor and onto a balcony. The night was warm, and the sky was full of stars and a huge moon. I became so lost in thought that I barely noticed a figure fly across the moon, then grow closer and closer. When the figure turned into a definitive human shape, I backed up and then, stood on the ledge before me, was a boy with red hair and dressed in green. With him, he had what appeared to be a golden firefly that then got in my face and revealed itself to be a pixie. I recognized this pair immediately.

“You’re Peter Pan… and Tinkerbell,” I gasped out.

“Yup! Sure am. So what’s going on here, girl?” Peter asked.

“It’s Rayla.. And King Ben has gotten engaged,” I explained to him.

“Hmm, all grown up. Is Harry in there?” he asked eagerly.

“I believe so, yes..” I told him. As if on cue, Harry appeared in the window and smiled wider than I had ever seen and rushed out to the balcony.

“Peter!” he greeted.

“Hey, Lost Boy Hook! I heard a hullaballoo was going on so I came to check on you, but it looks like you’re all good here,” Peter said.

“Thanks, Peter. What hullaballoo did you hear about?” Harry asked.

“The mermaids told me that there was a ship being built at skull rock, and Pirate’s cove is starting to look alive again… They won’t get too far with that old codfish gone, will they, though?” Peter laughed and lifted himself into the air.

Harry smiled. “Yeah, guess not.”

Peter pulled out a jar of golden and glowing sand-like material. “Hey, if you ever want to visit, just think happy thoughts!”

Harry took the jar of Pixie dust and smiled, then put it away in a pocket, flashing the shiny silver hook he always had on him.

“Well, I’ll see ya, pal!” Peter said and took off. “Bye, Rayla!”

When they were gone, Harry looked over at me.

“Sorry… I’ve been preoccupied tonight to come say hi,” Harry explained.

I shook my head. “It’s alright, we both have.”

Harry stepped closer to me. “You look incredible tonight…”

My stomach filled with butterflies and I blushed. I had been told that tonight already, but coming from Harry, the words made my heart to flips.

“Thank you. You look rather dashing yourself. Harry… may I ask you a personal question?” I said before I forgot to ask because I was so engulfed in the fact that Harry had said I looked good.

Harry nodded and his eyes never left mine.

I sighed. “Why do you carry that hook around?”

He looked taken aback for a moment and then sighed. “Well… It’s all I have left, I suppose. Of my family, that is. My mother gave him this hook, in a way… She had a lot of silver jewelry that she collected. When she died, my dad di’n’t want to part with it, so he melted it down and made it into a hook for himself. He used it for cruelty an’… an’ evil. Can’t tell ye how many times I got bonked on the head. When we all got put on the Isle, my dad managed to escape, but then… well, the croc got ‘im, but Peter managed to save the hook for me.”

My heart broke for him as he told me. I reached over and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. He turned his head slightly for a moment, then squeezed my hand with his opposite hand.

“I’m so sorry, Harry. That must be so painful to remember… Is there anything I can do?” I offered. Harry kept my hand in his and turned to face me with a look in his eyes that read as hope and sadness.

“Not about that, no… but I—”

“There you are, Harry! Come on, let’s dance!” Melody said from beside us and pulled Harry away from me. I felt myself not letting go until I was forced to by Melody’s tug on Harry’s hand. His gaze was torn from mine when he turned to her and I was reminded of the cold reality in which I lived: Harry was no more than just a friend. The place where our hands had touched felt like a third degree burn and my eyes welled up in tears. Harry had just disclosed a part of his past that he keeps with him to me, and with that disclosure my respect and admiration for him only grew… as did my feelings for him.

[solidburnreturned]

by popular demand, here is my oc chatter regarding stuff like relationships n random character traits. its rly long oops but i divided it by character at least lmao,, these are all things that i think id also wanna use if i ever use these characters as humans (which i def will at some point honestly)

- i thinkkkk i want toad and pike to date. toad would come across pike in their lagoon one day while hes wandering around on another wonked exploration and pike is like hey lol :B with their pointy teeth and long ass hair and toad is like :0 he just sits and talks with pike for hours and comes by a few times a week to hang out with them. they fall in LOVE

- fred and lani are def gonna date too. two butches who use he/him pronouns fuck yeah? they have a powerful relationship. mega BDE. power couple. not a lot of pda but alone together theyre both very loving and tender, its a vulnerability thing for both of them. like lani is very cool and can be either stoic or borderline obnoxious while fred is punkish. fred is very head over heels for lani tho 

- mardi n berg.....complicated....i gotta figure out how they actually end up together. berg is a jogger and mardi is a piercer/tattoo artist so that doesnt....make them line up very much in that department. ill think about it more and figure something out. itll probably have something to do with berg’s nose stripes and eye rings

- also side note on mardi......i want his backstory to include a grey period set off by his brother being eaten when they were both young at the troll tree. like he becomes angry and depressed, sorta like branch, his tattoos that he gives himself the only color on his body, until he learns to let go and his colors come back (high key this was inspired by 21 savage, mardi’s voice claim, and the line in his new song A Lot “my brother lost his life and it turned me to a beast”). ill develop this idea further but i just wanted to get it written down

- bismuth.......unsure. they had a crush on pepper and kept trying to ask her out until she came out to them as a lesbian, then they were like :’) but theyre ride or die theyre not gonna be an ass to her because they cant date her. they just care a lot about her. its like icarly

- gazpacho and jupiter CUTE two small trans trolls in That Love. i need to develop them more but. theyre just cute 

- talia is still a little too new for me to develop her......but im thinkin about it...

- kinda same with ernie and olive. they kinda mostly just exist as cute babby characters right now? if anything olive is a trouble maker and ernie is a chatterbox

- clem and thursday also fuckin cute as hell......clem was a nervous wreck asking thursday out but theyve been together like ever since, which is more than a few years. they have a rly cute gentle lovey dovey relationship. thursday is usually hanging around up on her gf’s shoulder giving her kisses on the cheek

- bea and crystal.......adorabl relationship......crystal is another character thats kinda nervous but bea is so chill n confident is helps calm her down. theyre both trans and love the hell out of each other. rly slow n steady relationship, bea is very patient

- pj and marcus!!!! dumb mlm rep relationship. pj is so so gay for marcus he can barely comprehend it. its a dumb ego boost for marcus but hes also very in love with pj, he just expresses it in a weird cocky way idk marcus is a nerd. i need to make more content for them i think about these two way more than it seems

- dwight!! he has a boat. he lives on the boat.....ive thought about maybe pairing him with toad and pike. deciding on his voice claim has been the most difficult thing ever

- kass and current HELL yeah buff gf and tol gf......they spar with swords and wrestle for fun and hang out at the beach a lot. kass fuckin loves the gem on current’s back. i gotta make more content for them 

- celia......i wanna do more with celia. friends with berg probs theyre both sporty. shes just a sweet giant troll who loves mushrooms. i gotta pair her with someone whose palette goes nicely with her pastels 

- carrot and harriet are literally cricket and tilly from big city greens just older. yeehaw siblings. havent thought about relationship stuff with harriet yet.....i think she also needs ANOTHER redesign her colors are just too heavy still. maybe if i can make her colors compliment celia’s that could work as a pairing? hm hm.....carrot tho is dating ford’s oc rye theyre gentle country gays

- rainer. hm. i dont think theyre rly the dating type......theyre just chill with being them. they just wanna swim and be funny

- hammond and andromeda are probs two of my least developed characters.....hammond still needs a redesign. he might be cute to pair with walter, theyre around the same age. andromeda tho i have no idea. she might be a nice pairing with eve? if i ever feel like pairing her with someone...who knows. eve is very carefree and might find andromeda’s energy too intense

- radish i wanna make more content for!! i rly like her a lot....i think shes another troll who isnt interested in dating. shes very focused on being a chef instead. loves her friends a lot!

- mack and pepper 2gether 4ever obvs......they have a relationship that gets richer with age for sure

- im just gonna ramble about mack. i thinkkkkkkk i wanna make her half latina? columbian specifically. she doesnt quite read as white and i didnt make her with the intention of making her white. anyway i love mack a whole lot and should really develop her backstory more. its not rly as like...””tragic”” or whatever as pepper’s i know that but she def has layers. i wanna give her whole family more depth. she has a very complicated relationship with her own feelings and motivations that i need to think about more fully. my powerful femme tho i lov her

- mack’s parents, robin and champagne, i need to like....think about them more. they have kinda a comedic relationship thats sorta inspired by roger rabbit and jessica rabbit. robin is a very caring, gentle troll who’s very smart and cares a lot about his nursing responsibilities in the village. champagne is very relaxed and the “voice of reason” character of the family. she loves a good party and has her party planning down to a science. both are very successful power parents. kickass family

- i already talked about topaz and marney in a separate post but i still love them both so much. big wesbiabs

- pepper....pebber. im gonna talk about her the most obviously gfhjdkrs i wanna talk about her mental health i feel like i think about it a lot but i never write about it explicitly? this is gonna be long oops hgjfksd she has depression and ptsd stemming from the trauma of her crash...im thinking she also has adhd and thats just something shes always had. her depression rly got heavy during her recovery and right after like...she hated being bed/housebound and felt rly powerless to her situation and just let it eat at her until her personality had actually changed considerably. like extroverted wild child rebel to introverted, soft-spoken sulker. this got better with time but she still is pretty introverted, just turned her moodiness into chill energy. 

- she has bad depression habits like letting dishes, old food, laundry, or just stuff pile up in her room until it gets overwhelming and she spends like two days just manically cleaning; or staying in bed for way longer than she should and messing with her hygiene; or eating way more or way less than she should eat in a day. just stuff thats hard to completely break out of when youre recovering. her color is pretty consistently the dark red but if shes having a particularly rough day she might look a little paler, or like a muddy brick color at her worst. thats kinda rare tho

- her ptsd is the thing she hates the most. for a while it made her feel very weak and she’d beat herself up over being traumatized by the crash which was obviously not helpful to her mental state but she was really all over the place during her bodily recovery. its part of the reason why she started working out, she wanted to reclaim some sort of feeling of strength and power that she felt she’d lost completely. she still gets really frustrated with this feeling of loss but she gets a lot of support from loved ones which has helped her not self-blame so much. her ptsd manifests mostly as nightmares/insomnia, chronic headaches/stomachaches, intrusive thoughts and sometimes flashbacks. the nightmares are what rly get to her, she really doesnt get a lot of good sleep and it can get to the point where she just doesnt want to sleep sometimes and she’ll stay awake until she crashes hard

- her scars used to be a big trigger for her ptsd, which is why she has her bangs covering the one on her face and wears long pants (her knee braces are too bulky for pants and would force her to wear shorts which would force her to expose her scars). she just. really really hates them. this is something she struggles with for a majority of her life

- once she and mack start going steady with their dating and start consistently sleeping in the same bed, pepper starts to sleep better. she still has nightmares that wake her up at least weekly, but having mack there to comfort her (whether she wakes mack up accidentally or if mack is already awake) helps a TON with getting her back to sleep soundly. it also just helps her sleep in general to have that comforting, loving presence in her bed snuggled up to her ;w; mack is a big help in general with pepper’s mental health, pushing pepper to make better, healthier choices and get out in the village more and have fun. mack for sure does not “”cure”” pepper of anything but shes a very positive light in pepper’s life that helps her pull thru tough times!

- i love all my goofy trolls so much. its so fun to just chill and blab about them to relax between working on big projects ;o; ty if u cared enough to read this whole thing ur so rad

[ravensimps]

Welcome To Gotham Part 2 (Victor Zsasz x OC)

"So who are you exactly?" The woman asks as I help get Jim out of the car "Raven Volturi, I just got into town" I laugh "Montoya, Why did you stay and help him?" I smile "Because I have an annoying habit of trying to save people" I groan as we get Jim into a university lab "In here" A young woman smiles as we put Jm on a table "Ugh he is heavier than he looks" I groan and the man laughs "I'm Detective Allen" I shake his hand "Nice to meet you" I smile and take a seat while the woman patches up Jim.

I take the piece of paper out of my pocket along with my phone and start calling landlords.

XX

30 minutes and about 4 calls later, I have seen pictures of a perfect industrial loft. So I call the landlord to make arrangements.

XX

20 Minutes later I have agreed to meet the landlord later today at the loft, With that all sorted out I relax until Jim wakes up.

XX

A couple of hours later Jim wakes up coughing, I decide to wait until the woman checks him over before I walk over to him.

"Raven your still here?" He asks surprised "Yup I wanted to wait until you woke up" I smile "Your walking fine? How? I saw you get shot twice" I laugh"You must have hit your head Jim, I wasn't shot" I gently pat his arm "I have to go and meet a man about a place to stay, I'll give you my number" I write my number down and hand it to him "You can't leave! If Zsasz finds you..." I smile softly "Jim I will be fine" I gently hug him and walk out of the building.

I decide to walk to the loft it is not that far and its almost time to meet the landlord and yes I am using a map on my phone.

XX

20 Minutes later I get to the loft and a man is already waiting "Miss Volturi?" He smiles "Yeah sorry I'm late" I smile shyly and shake his hand "It's fine, Your the first to show any interest in this loft...Oh my name is Mike" I materialize money into my back pockets as we walk inside the loft.

"Wow it looks even bigger and better in person" I smile like a little kid "I have to tell you the rent is not cheap, It is £1.000 A month and I need the first months rent in advance" I smirk and take the money out of my pockets "I'll take it! trust me payments won't be an issue" His jaw drops as he hands me the paperwork.

XX

The paperwork only took about 10 minutes, Mike gave me the keys and left a few minutes ago.

"Welp better get to work" I mumble and go sit in the middle of the floor cross-legged. I let my powers flow out of me and all around the loft until it is decorated to my liking.

XX

5 Minutes later everything is done and I love it so much! And now I am starving! I walk into my now fully stocked kitchen, Too lazy to make a proper meal I just shove a frozen curry into the microwave and put it on for 9 minutes to cook.

XX

9 Minutes later the curry is done and I grab a can of cola before going upstairs to my bedroom to watch TV and eat.

XX

15 Minutes pass as I ate my food and my ears pick up rustling from downstairs "Really?" I groan and summon a knife that I don't need but hey acting human. I sneak down the stairs and hide behind 1 of the sofa's, I slowly use the knife as a mirror and I can see it is the bald man from the police station! Well that was quick. I pull the knife away as he slowly turns around "Come out...Now" I hear the sound of the safety being taken off his guns, I tuck the knife into my jeans and cover it with my top "I'm coming out! Don't shoot!" I softly yell and stand up with my hands up, He whistles and points 1 of his pistols to an empty spot about 6 feet in front of him. I nod and slowly walk over to him, He is watching me with his head tilted "Hmm I am pretty sure I shot you...Twice" He says slightly confused "Uh nope you missed...Evidently" I laugh slightly and he looks right into my eyes "Let me explain something to you. When I mean to shoot someone I do not miss, I meant to shoot you" I smirk "Maybe you're having an off day?" He glares and backs me into the wall, THUD The knife hits the wall before my back and the man smirks "Whatcha got there?" I smile innocently "Uh nothing" He suddenly turns me around and presses his chest to my back "Last chance" I shiver as his breath hits my neck but stay silent. He lifts up my top and I jump as he runs a finger along my hip before taking the knife "You know next time it's better if you just tell me the truth" I nod "You first, Why are you here?" He turns me back around and steps back "My boss Don Carmine Falcone wants to meet you and talk about your 'Stunt' at the GCPD" I groan "Do I have to?" I pout and he smiles "I have orders not to harm you...So let's go" I growl and raise my eyebrows "And if I say no?" He smiles again but this one is very creepy "Then we can do this the fun way" I think for a second "Fine I'll go" He sighs "Buzzkill" And grabs my arm before leading me out to his car.

XX

"Wow!" He pulls up to a huge mansion "Get out" He growls and I step out of the car, There are about 10 armed men outside "Huh that's a lot of guards" I mumble and jump as he grabs my arm and pulls me inside.

"What's your name?" I ask as we get to a huge door "You'll find out soon" He smirks and opens the door "Ladies first" He slightly pushes me into the room and an old man late 50's early 60's stands up and faces me. "So you're the girl I have heard so much about? Didn't you shoot her?" He asks the bald man and I can't help but laugh "S-Sorry" I cough covering my laugh as the man glares at me "What's your name?" The older man no doubt Falcone asks "Raven Volturi...Sir" I smile "Call me Carmine" He smiles and offers his hand, I shake his hand "Nice to meet you Carmine" I smile "So first things first, What brings you to Gotham? Obviously, I can easily tell you are not from here" I laugh a little "I just got to town today actually...I would rather not talk about why its personal" He nods "How did you come to meet James Gordon?" He asks "I got a lift into town and the man told me the GCPD could help me find a list of landlords and apartments. So I walked into the GCPD looking like a lost puppy and Jim helped me, That is until Mr. 'Can't shoot shit' over there came at Jim" I can feel the man glaring at me and I turn to him "What? You wouldn't tell me your name" I smile innocently "Boss?" He says through Gritted teeth "His name is Victor Zsasz, Why did you help a man you just met?" Carmine signals Victor to calm down "Because he helped me and I'm a nice person" He suddenly looks into my eyes "You have Red eyes? That's odd" I jump as Victor is suddenly in front of me and he looks right into my eyes "Huh I didn't even notice those" Victor groans a little and I look away "Uh genetic mutation" I mumble feeling very awkward "Anyone in your family have it?" Carmine asks noticing how awkward I look "Uh yeah my dad and uncle have it...My mother has natural purple eyes so it is kind of a family thing" He smiles and nods "I assume being new to town you won't have a job yet?" I shake my head "No not yet I don't even know where to look" I tuck my hair behind my ear "I am in need of a housekeeper, Would you be interested?"I take a minute to think. I mean he doesn't seem bad and I would seem more normal "Yes I'm interested"I Smile "Good! Obviously, you'll cook, Clean, etc. Do you know any self-defense?" I smirk and look at Zsasz "Oh how is that girl's jaw?" Carmine looks at Zsasz "What happened?" Zsasz glares at me "She snuck up on 1 of my girls...Celia and she punched her in the face with enough force to dislocate her jaw and throw her into the side of a truck" I shrug "I'm stronger than I look" Carmine raises his eyebrows "You did that?" He asks and I nod "Yeah, Oh tell Celia I'm sorry about the jaw" I smirk at Zsasz "I'll let her know" He says again with gritted teeth "Well you start tomorrow morning, Victor will take you home tonight and pick you up tomorrow morning" I groan "I can make my own way home" Carmine shakes his head "As my new house-keeper Victor will take you home" Knowing this is a losing battle I nod "Fine, Thank you Carmine" Zsasz grabs my arm and leads me back to the car.

End Of Chapter 2! Hope you enjoyed!

-Ray

@thefandomfires