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acourtofthought · 9 months

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Pairing the “devastatingly beautiful” Elain with the scarred Lucien could be a(nouther) take on the “Beauty and the Beast” trope/fairytale

You know, at first I was going to say that the parallels didn't quite connect -

The beast was cursed to become a Beast because of his weaknesses and shallow nature.

Even Tamlin was technically a bit weak in spirit, sending Lucien to do his bidding multiple times throughout the series.

Lucien isn't a beast, not physically and certainly not in his manners or personality.

There is no healing Lucien from his scars and bringing back his eyes, markers of his bravery.

Every scar on him is because of his courage and strength.

He knowingly stood up to a female he knew was capable of cruelty (I mean, she's kept Jurian's eye in a ring this whole time).

However, you might be on to something.......

I think Spring in general is still sort of cursed in a way.

At the end of Beauty and the Beast, the beauty and life of the castle is restored and everyone lives happily ever after.

And usually, SJM likes to take these fairy tales and mage sure they have a happy ending but nothing in Spring is currently happy. The people are running around lawless (still suffering from everything that happened as a result of the curse on Spring), the High Lord is depressed and not protecting his borders, his manor is destroyed and the flowers are overgrown and wilted.

Lucien had even hoped Spring would be his HEA:

That the circle of people who now claimed to be Feyre’s new family … It was what, long ago, he’d once thought life at Tamlin’s court would be. An ache like a blow to the chest went through him, but he crossed the rug.

And he does have some longing that he's been unable to go back:

“I don’t have anywhere else to go.” Before I could object, he said, “You ruined any chance I have of going back to Spring. Not to Tamlin, but to the court beyond his house. Everyone either still believes the lies you spun or they believe me complicit in your deceit.

So while Lucien might not be a Beast in the typical way, his scars could be startling for some.

And Elain does have a lot of characteristics of Belle. Beautiful, people often placing her in a box of how they expect she should behave, she was close to her father, wise (as Belle was intelligent), well mannered.

And with the hints that they'll end up in Spring together I think there's little chance they won't be responsible for helping to restore it. Whether they stay until Helion is no longer ruler of Day or only to get Tamlin back on his feet (I still think option 1 is more likely), I do think they're the key to truly ending Springs curse once and for all and turning it into the place Lucien once hoped it would be as well as a court of strength to help protect the peace in their world.

“I would suggest reminding Beron that territory expansion is not on the table. For any court.”

“Then I would suggest to you, High Lord, that you speak to your dear friend Tamlin about it.”

“Because Tamlin’s territory is the only one that borders the human lands. I’d think that anyone looking to expand would have to go through the Spring Court first. Or at least obtain his permission.”

As if he’d known that sleep had been futile for me last night after Eris’s not-so-subtle warning about Tamlin and his borders.

“But perhaps more pressing,” I went on, jabbing a finger on the sprawling continent, “is the fact that the human queens have not returned to their own territories. They linger in that joint palace of theirs. Beyond that, Hybern’s general populace is not too thrilled to have lost this war. And with the wall gone, who knows what other Fae territories might make a grab for human lands?”

“Where did Lucien go.”

“He went to the Spring Court. He’ll be there for Solstice.” “Tamlin kicked him out the last time.” “He did. But he invited him for the holiday.” Likely because Tamlin realized he’d be spending it alone in that manor. Or whatever was left of it.

“You mean to visit the Spring Court?” I wished I could say otherwise. But I instead told him what Eris had implied: that Tamlin either might not care to enforce his borders with the human realm or might be open to letting anyone through them. I doubted I’d get a decent night’s rest until I found out for myself.

It was Spring, and yet it wasn’t. It was not the land I had once roamed in centuries past, or even visited almost a year ago. The sun was mild, the day clear, distant dogwoods and lilacs still in eternal bloom. Distant—because on the estate, nothing bloomed at all. The pink roses that had once climbed the pale stone walls of the sweeping manor house were nothing but tangled webs of thorns. The fountains had gone dry, the hedges untrimmed and shapeless. The house itself had looked better the day after Amarantha’s cronies had trashed it. Not for any visible signs of destruction, but for the general quiet. The lack of life. Though the great oak doors were undeniably worse for wear. Deep, long claw marks had been slashed down them.

“What’s this I hear about you not enforcing your borders?” A beat of quiet. Then Tamlin gestured toward the door. “Do you see any sentries around to do it?”

“she was as disturbed as I was to learn that your borders are not as enforced as we’d hoped.”

“With the wall gone, I’d need an army to watch them.”

“That can be arranged.”

A soft snarl rumbled from Tamlin, and a hint of claws gleamed at his knuckles. “I’m not letting your ilk onto my lands.”

“To protect humans from us, yes,” I said, my voice going dangerously quiet.

“To maintain the peace.”

“What peace?” “Nothing is different. The wall is gone, that’s all.”

“We can make it different. Better. But only if we start off the right way.”

“I’m not allowing one Night Court brute onto my lands.”

Tamlin didn’t have shields around the house. None to prevent anyone from winnowing in, to guard against enemies appearing in his bedroom and slitting his throat. It was almost as if he was waiting for someone to do it.

“You will need Tamlin as an ally before the dust has settled. Tread carefully.”

“Beron doesn’t have the military strength to control the Autumn Court and a territory on the continent,” Cassian countered.

Eris’s fingers closed around the petals. “Who says he wants land on the continent?” He surveyed the orchard—as if to make a point.

Eris looked toward the hills beyond the orchard, green and gold and glowing in the sunlight. “They say a beast prowls these lands now. A beast with keen green eyes and golden fur. Some people think the beast has forgotten his other shape, so long has he spent in his monstrous form. And though he roams these lands, he does not see or care for the neglect he passes, the lawlessness, the vulnerability. Even his manor has fallen into disrepair, half-eaten by thorns, though rumors fly that he himself destroyed it.”

“Enough with the double-talk,” Cassian said. “Tamlin’s staying in his beast form and is finally getting the punishment he deserves. So what?”

Eris and Rhys held each other’s gaze. Eris said, “You’ve been trying to bring Tamlin back for a while. But he isn’t getting better, is he?”

“But Tamlin is already hanging by a thread. You and Lucien have made it clear that he’s barely improved this past year. Learning of Feyre’s pregnancy might make him crumble again.

With a new war possible and Briallyn up to her bullshit with Koschei, we need a strong ally. We need the Spring Court’s forces.”

"We need to summon Lucien,” Azriel said, just a shade tightly, as if he didn’t like it one bit. “We need to tell him the news, and permanently station him at the Spring Court to contain any damage and to be our eyes and ears.”

But Elain … The Spring Court had been made for someone like her.

#elucien #pro elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #elain x lucien #lucien and elain #acotar theory #pro lucien vanserra #pro elain archeron

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lucindarobinsonvevo · 1 year

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i have to rewatch (might do a full rewatch actually) fd4 to really articulate why i loved it so much so it'll take some time to get back to you on that one but in the meantime...

first, yes, i absolutely loved Wendy :)))

second, i really want to hear more of your thoughts on Nick & Death! i got the impression from your response that there's a lot more that you found fascinating and i would love to hear it :)

cheering and screaming rn yes YES! Wendy is MY final girl of all time!

This is kind of a long-winded answer so please bare with me. One thing that plays on my mind about Nick's second vision, is that he...doesn't die. Janet dies after being impaled and nail-gunned and Lori gets eaten by an escalator but Nick...I mean he's in a bad position on the escalator, but not one that's unsurvivable. Kind of like Wendy (team wendy lives btw), except her second vision ended upon her death, and the sequence that would lead to the train crash had already started by the time she realized what was going on. She didn't really have a chance to save herself, or anyone else. At best, she could be aware that the second train was coming, and flatten herself to the tracks, or otherwise somehow move out of the way.

Nick's second vision is entirely different. It takes place at a whole second location after Gary's death. Nick had the vision at the hospital, and then drives to the mall to try and save Lori and Janet (and im glad he did. getting nailed to the wall...iconic...) and there's no reality where he isn't going to try and save Lori, the movie makes it explicitly clear that they are very much in love. BUT technically speaking, he didn't have to. He could have not gone to the mall, he could have i don't know...driven out of town and done literally anything else. I don't believe Nick was fated to die at the mall, I think this was him explicitly disrupting Death's plan to, for reasons I will expand upon in a second, separate him from Lori and Janet -- And that's why Death takes the unusual measure of interacting with him directly via nailing him to the wall, to literally watch Lori and Janet die. It's like death is saying, you know, this is your fault, see what happens when you meddle in my plans? kind of thing. Death really really hates Nick. More so than the other visionaries I think.

So, i wonder what IS death's plan for Nick, if it's not for him to die at the Mall? why does he want him separated from Lori and Janet? I do have kind of a far out theory, if you care to hear it. I think Nick is actually more 'powerful' than the previous visionaries, and that's why it seems like death can communicate to him in a more direct manor than he did with the others. I also think that perhaps Clear (if she did die, also team clear lives, btw) or Alex is sending Nick visions from beyond the grave which i KNOW sounds like I'm reading way too much into this silly teen slasher movie and I AM but you know me. I love to discourse and I love to analyse. The reason I think that it's Alex Specifically is the connection to the name Clear Rivers triggers a vision in Nick, and Clear herself doesn't have any physic powers -- as it would seem -- While Alex DOES.

If I had to guess upon what plan it is that Nick interrupted, I would take a cue from the title of the movie. The Final Destination. I think Death's plan was to separate Nick from Lori and Janet, and on his own now and presuming he doesn't just like. kill himself. without Lori, Nick's a college student, obviously he's got at least a passing interest in research, as did Lori as seen earlier in the movie when they had info about Flight 180 in their little packet of documents they made for Hunt and Janet. I mean, it seems kind of natural to me for him to try and find the other visionaries.

and some may say 'huh, that seems a little far fetched, Mitzi' but i don't think it is! Both films take place in McKinley Pennsylvania, so it's likely he has heard about Wendy's premonition/the Devil's Flight incident. I think it's perfectly reasonable that Wendy's intervention somehow affected the lives of Nick and friends, plus Gary, the Racist, Cowboy man and the Hot Milf. I actually think it's even hinted at in the movie that the characters have escaped death once before when Gary talks about how he nearly died in the car accident that killed his family. How Wendy could have affected that...I don't know for sure. It could even be possible, imo, for Gary to have been one of the drivers in the highway incident from the second film, but that's just my silly little hc on the matter. So, I don't think it's impossible for Nick to find at LEAST Wendy, but also Clear and Kimberly too. In the deleted scenes from FD3, it's shown that Death is still after Kimberly and Burke as they either die in a wood chipper incident (could have been SO iconic) or are seen getting onto the train with Wendy. They were only spared by the actors being unable to come back and film the train scenes.

Also - Final Destination 2 was about cleaning up loose ends from Final Destination 1, so why couldn't Final Destination 4 be about cleaning up loose ends from Final Destinations past?

To recap. I think that Bobby Campo (Nick) has some kind of powerful psychic ability leagues above the other visionaries in the series which is why Death (and who/whatever is sending the visions) can interact with him more closely, more like Alex than Wendy. Death doesn't want Nick to die at the mall, he just wants to kill Lori and Janet in the hopes that Nick will round up the other survivors and send the last of the lose ends to the final destination. Nick has an exceptionally powerful vision, and instead interferes with death's plan, putting himself in the line of danger when he wasn't meant to be. As punishment, Death takes extra measures to ensure Nick can't interfere with his plan only to fail at the final inning when Nick activates the fire sprinklers.

Back into analysis now sorry.

At the end of the movie, Nick says 'what if we didn't change anything?' before being hit by the truck (which tbh...Also team Nick Lives btw) because I don't think changed anything! HE was meant to die there getting hit by a truck, but so where the other loose ends in the form of Kimberly and Wendy. Nick has no visions about the truck, although he does notice 'signs. Perhaps, now that Clear is safe, Nick is no longer receiving Visions from Alex. Maybe it's like Matilda and the vision he had before was so powerful it basically took them from him. Maybe Death has found a way to stop them. Or, perhaps the previous vision was so powerful it wiped ALEX of his powers and he can no longer send Nick a message through visions and he can just scratch it into the table. I don't think that was Alex, though. I think it's too spiteful, and the final message comes from Death himself, furious that his conduit has intervened and accidentally protected the other survivors. Death isn't just coming for Nick O'Bannon anymore. IT'S HERE.

AND THAT is my analysis of Death and Bobby Campo in the fourth Final Destination film. THANK YOU AND GOODNIGHT

#final destination #mitzianswers #sonyarebecchi #fdpost

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jinx-jade · 3 years

Text

Cries of a hummingbird part 2: Last time

The Waynes cringe a little at the devastating sound that seemed to be louder than normal.

It had been a while since Hummingbird visited Gotham last.

While the Waynes were happy she wasn’t having as many breakdowns, they were also aware that meant she was keeping all her emotions on a tight leash, which can be extremely harmful to your mental health.

It took them a second to realize, the screams were louder tonight because they were coming from above them.

She was on the roof of Wayne Enterprises.

They quickly made their way to the roof, hoping to be able to finally have a conversation with the little bird they had become so emotionally attached to.

By the time the Waynes had made it up to the roof, the screaming and sobbing had stopped. They were about to head back to Bruce’s office, where they had previously been, but as they were leaving they saw her, most of them doing a double-take.

Hummingbird was lying unconscious on the roof, tear tracks visible down her cheeks.

The Waynes looked at each other, trying to figure out what to do.

They ended up bringing Hummingbird into Tim’s office since it has a napping space, pillows, and blankets, due to Tim’s many late nights working in his office when he wasn’t busy with his other late-night job.

Once she was settled, the Waynes began debating what to do with her. Ideas ranging from moving her to Wayne manor, or getting her some medical attention.

“We can’t ask Pixie what she wants to do, now can we since she’s not even conscious,” Jason says with a huff, as Hummingbird began to sit up.

“Nevermind. Guess we can ask her,” Jason states absentmindedly.

Dick rushed to her side, helping her sit up. Hummingbird accepted the help before seeming to realize something and cringed away from him. The Waynes of course took note of this reaction.

“How are you doing?” Stephanie asked, moving forward to take Dick’s abandoned spot.

Hummingbird didn’t answer. Instead, she curled in on herself, moving away from all of the Waynes.

The Waynes all took a few steps away from her, putting a little space between themselves and Hummingbird so she wouldn’t feel trapped. This seemed to make her relax, even if she was still wound up and tense.

“What’s your name?” Bruce eventually asked, breaking the silence.

“Don’t have one.” Hummingbird said in a neutral yet soft, voice.

“You don’t have a name?” Dick questioned, wondering how someone could live for years without ever making up or being given a name.

“...Don’t have one…” Hummingbird repeated with hesitation.

The Waynes shared a look. It was clear to them that she had one at some point, but for some unknown reason, Hummingbird considered the name dead.

“How old are you?” Tim asked, changing the topic since it seemed to make her uncomfortable.

“Fourteen’” Hummingbird told them.

“Do you have a parent or guardian we can contact?” Bruce of course being the one to ask the black-haired, blue-eyed child about parents.

The question seemed to upset Hummingbird, but she still answered, shaking her head no.

“Do you have a safe place to stay?” Bruce questioned, receiving a hesitant shake of her head.

“What B. here is trying to ask, is if you would be willing to be adopted,” Jason says as he interrupts Bruce’s questions.

Hummingbird looked at them as if they were some strange creatures.

“Ya, B. has a habit of adopting Black-haired, blue-eyed kids, with a troubled past. You’d fit right in!” Steph cheers.

“You’re blonde,” Hummingbird says with furrowed brows, making the Waynes laugh.

“Yup! That’s why I’m the unofficially adopted kid.” Steph claims with a grin.

The Waynes continued talking with Hummingbird until Alfred came to pick them up.

“I prepared a room for the new young miss. However I was unaware of what the young miss would like, so there will need to be a shopping trip to pick out personal decorations.” Alfred informs them on the drive home.

Hummingbird still kept a distance from them in the car like how she had at the office, but she seemed to be more relaxed.

At some point during the trip, Hummingbird fell asleep. She looked so peaceful in her sleep. Almost as if she hadn’t been the one screaming and sobbing for the past few years.

Once they arrived at the manor, Bruce picked up the small child, Alfred guiding them to the little Hummingbird's room.

They had all agreed to talk about the logistics of the adoption in the morning.

Most of the Waynes slept in the manor that night, only a few going out on patrol since they all couldn’t skip patrol on the same night.

They didn’t end up talking to Hummingbird till after lunch due to her sleeping in.

Once they were all settled in the living room, they began to go over the adoption paperwork.

“Going off of the fact that you don’t have a name, I can only assume that you don’t have identification papers. Such as birth certificates, medical records, school papers, or anything similar to these items.” Bruce states.

Even though it wasn’t a question, Hummingbird still answered.

“I don’t have anything like that since I don’t technically exist.” Bruce nodded at her response. Letting her know that this was the circumstance that he was expecting after finding her on the rooftop.

“What name would you like to go by?” Bruce asked, starting the questions for the official paperwork.

Hummingbird didn’t answer right away, seeming to be lost in thought.

After four or five minutes Hummingbird gave her answer, although she wasn’t sure if the Waynes would like the name. In response to her uncertainty, she curled in on herself.

“Ari?” Hummingbird suggested with a small, soft voice.

In response to the name she suggests, the Waynes gave her encouraging words, sounds, or movements, about what a nice name it is, and how well it fit her.

The process seemed to repeat for every question she was asked by the Waynes.

The newly dubbed Ari would be asked a question. She would hesitate before answering. Then she would be showered in praise. Even Damian joined in on praising Ari for the ideas she came up with.

By the end of the day, Ari Eme Wayne, the youngest of the Wayne family by two years, was created and adopted.

Having the paperwork filled out may not stop Ari’s screaming and sobbing.

It probably won’t stop Ari from bottling up her emotions.

She will always have nightmares no matter what she did.

There will always be pain and suffering in her life.

Yet one thing was clear to the Waynes.

The cold night on the rooftop of Wayne Enterprise will be the last time that Ari Eme Wayne ever felt that all alone, and abandoned ever again.

#maribat #maribat march 2021 #cries of a hummingbird

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novelconcepts · 3 years

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FOUND IT!!! Consider this an official ask for 3 and 14 combined! #wheee

smiling into a kiss and play wrestling

Having a best friend again is strange. She’d gone so long imagining the phrase as a sort of neon sign staked firmly in the past: Best Friend, already spoken for. Eddie had always been it; no other volunteers need apply.

But Eddie’s gone now, out of her life, living out wherever his might go in another country altogether, and Dani finds the position has--slowly, without really planning for it--been filled once more. Not that she planned for it. Not that could ever could have.

She didn’t come to Bly looking for Jamie, and if you’d told her the gardener who refused to so much as meet her eyes, much less introduce herself, would become the most important person in her life--well. Life is full of surprises.

There is so little of Eddie in Jamie, she sometimes wonders how both could have occupied the same shape in her heart. Sometimes wonders how Eddie--who prized cleanliness, routine work hours, dinners at his mother’s once a week--would look at Jamie, if he could see her. Jamie, all tousled hair, happiest with a cigarette between her teeth and both hands buried in soil. Jamie, who has never kept a nine-to-five, never craved Sunday afternoons with her parents, never looks at Dani like she expects firm posture, bright smile, neat clothes.

They couldn’t possibly be more different--and yet, somehow, Jamie is her best friend. Unfair to think it, maybe, but she might be the best friend Dani’s ever had. Her sense of humor is dark, her vocabulary wallpapered with curse words and shorn letters; she smells of nicotine and sunscreen, dresses in wrinkled flannels and torn jeans. Where Eddie looped an arm around her shoulders, Jamie nudges her with bony elbows; where Eddie pressed his lips to her temple, Jamie leans carefully away. Different, in every measure.

And it isn’t that she likes Jamie more. That wouldn’t be fair--not after so many years in Eddie’s company. It’s just that when Jamie looks at her, eyes bright, dirt smudged on one cheek, sometimes, she feels...

“You’re thinking,” Jamie observes. She doesn’t say it the way Eddie would--the way he always pointed out when she was clenching her fist under the table, or picking at her nails, his voice edged with concern bordering on condescension. Her voice is light, her lips curved in a small smile.

Eddie never quite smiled at her like that. Or, if he did, it didn't pluck the same chord in her stomach. Not that that matters. Not that that affects the sincerity of friendship.

Not that it’s making her feel weirdly flushed this afternoon.

“Am I not allowed to think?” she asks. The sun, she thinks, is responsible for the goofy smile on her face. The heat of the day, which stretches on and on the way only early July knows how.

“Not arguing,” Jamie says. “One of us ought to.”

She’s on her knees, pulling weeds, her face shining with sweat. There’s something about days like this--afternoons where the kids are occupied helping Owen bake cookies, leaving Dani to nurse a glass of water and pleasantly-meandering conversation--that feels almost too good to be allowed. Eddie would have wanted to do something with a day like this: hike, or clear up the yard, or go visit family.

Jamie, on the other hand, pushes to her feet and surveys the bed she’s spent all day working. “Think that’s good enough for a break. Here, budge over.”

Dani obediently scoots to the edge of her seat, amused when Jamie flops down half in her lap. A year of working at the manor, and Jamie’s gone from a woman who couldn’t make eye contact to save her life to this: gangly limbs tossed haphazardly over Dani’s, sweat-slick skin sticking where it lands against Dani’s shoulder. It’s too hot for cozying up like this, but she can’t seem to convince herself to push Jamie away.

“There,” Jamie sighs, tilting her head back against the plastic of the lawn chair. “Christ, feels good just to breathe.”

“You breathe,” Dani says, “and I’ll think. Together, we make an almost-functional human being.”

“Almost,” Jamie says wryly. Her hand loops around Dani’s, teasing the sweating glass out of her grip long enough to take a sip. Dani nudges her.

“Could get you one of your own, if you ever learned to ask politely.”

“Don’t like me polite,” Jamie says with a shrug. “My brand is prickly-yet-charming, and we both know I’m your favorite for it.”

“Technically,” Dani corrects, “Flora is my favorite. Mainly because she doesn’t make me remind her to say please.”

“Please,” Jamie says without missing a beat, “keep pretending you aren’t captivated by my winning personality.”

Dani laughs. “Oh, is that what I am?”

“Mm.” Jamie takes another sip, reaches over her to set the glass down on the table, closes her eyes. “S’what you were all pensive about just now, I’m sure. How entranced you are with my witty banter.”

“Entranced,” Dani repeats.

“Beguiled. Mesmerized. Drunk with adoration.” Jamie’s face is pink, a bead of sweat neatly lining her upper lip. Dani only realizes she’s staring a fortunate beat before Jamie rolls her head to the left, peering at her with lazy amusement. “Go on. Tell me how much you love me.”

“Love how ridiculous you can be, maybe.” And how sweet, and how unquestioningly soft, though she doesn’t see a need to put that into words--or a way to do it without sounding entirely out of her head. The heat, she thinks, is absolutely getting to her.

It’s the heat, making her want suddenly to slide an arm between the plastic back of the chair and the cotton of Jamie’s tank top, pulling her even closer. The heat, making her want to displace the normal back-and-forth ease of friendship with something else entirely.

She’s had a best friend before. She’s never quite wanted to do with Eddie what she is, more and more, thinking about with Jamie curled up beside her.

Distract, she thinks, because Jamie is still watching her with that half-lidded expression she gets when the sun is particularly bright, the day’s work has been well-tended, and Dani’s shoulder is a cushion beneath her head. More and more, it’s been feeling like a dangerous sort of moment, Jamie’s face lingering near the crook of her neck. Jamie’s breath coasting down the neckline of her dress. Jamie’s smile sweeter than should be allowed, given the grumpy way she slouches around the grounds.

“Thinking,” Jamie says, her voice almost soft. Dani shakes her head.

“It’s not illegal.”

“Is,” Jamie says, “if you’re gonna just stare at me all googly-eyed while you do it. C’mon, what gives? Is today some holiday I’ve forgotten?” She sits up a little straighter, her face comic in its sudden concern. “Shit, Poppins, it’s not your birthday.”

She almost wants to say it is, just to watch Jamie turn fascinating new shades of maroon. “No--just--it’s hot.”

Jamie sags back with palpable relief. Her arm is freckled, Dani notices, beyond the norm; the summer is drawing all sorts of secrets from her skin, and it’s suddenly painfully tempting, the urge to trace her nail along these newfound constellations.

Distract, she thinks again, more urgently this time. Without thinking it through, without considering the consequences, she dips two fingers into the glass of water and flicks the still-cool moisture directly into Jamie’s face.

Jamie, to her credit, hardly jumps. She’s just blinking at Dani like their conversation has taken an unanticipated left turn into another language, water dripping from the end of her nose.

“Okay,” she says. “If that’s how we’re playing it.”

Her arm reaches across without hesitation, replicating Dani’s playbook: two fingers dipped, flicked, landing back in her lap as Dani sputters.

“You got me in the eye.”

“Cooled you off, though?” Jamie asks, almost politely. Dani laughs, and suddenly, it’s war. There’s barely enough room on the chair for the both of them to sit like adults, much less to squirm around, hips knocking, legs tangled up as the remainder of the glass finds its way--droplet by droplet--into Jamie’s face, down Dani’s neck, sometimes missing entirely and disappearing into the sizzling summer air.

Dani is ultimately the victor, an upset decided when she grasps the glass--now containing maybe two inches of water--and upends it directly over Jamie’s head. She’s laughing almost too hard to breathe, particularly when Jamie gives a firm shake of her hair, looking like a rumpled dog after a bath.

“That,” Jamie says in a low, dangerous tone, “cannot stand.”

She’s up before Dani can stop her, sprinting toward the garden hose uncoiled in the grass. Dani twists in her seat, knees drawn up to her chest, arms extended.

“Don’t you dare!”

“All’s fair,” Jamie says, almost apologetically, depressing the trigger.

They are, Dani notes somewhere in the back of her mind, full-grown adult women. They are thirty years old, gainfully employed, responsible for the upkeep of an entire house and the well-being of two small children.

They are also now chasing one another across the lawn, Dani sopping wet, Jamie laughing so hard she nearly trips over her own feet taking a corner too fast. The hose is growing more and more tangled by the minute as she dashes in a zig-zag pattern, periodically firing a jet of water over her shoulder, and Dani has no prayer of catching up--not with her shoes squelching, slipping on wet grass, her lungs clenched around a soundless jag of laughter.

Adults, she thinks, as Jamie makes the insurmountable error of trying to bolt past her like a quarterback dodging a tackle; she makes a successful leap over the tangled hose, but forgets at the last second to factor in the edge of the lawn chair. Dani has her around the middle before she can dart out of reach, the both of them tumbling over in a cackling heap of grass clippings, puddled hose water, freckled limbs.

They’re rolling, shouting wordlessly around giggles, Dani struggling to pry the hose out of Jamie’s hands. It’s harder than it looks; Jamie is small, but strong in an annoyingly wiry sort of way. Even when Dani manages to get her onto her back, the water is inescapable, dousing in short jets across her chest, down her arms, pooling awkwardly between them.

“You are,” she laughs, “a child.”

“Could a child do this?” Jamie replies, jerking upward at the hips with unexpected force. Dani rocks up with her, one hand grasping the sodden front of Jamie’s shirt for balance, and drops back down without budging from her seat. Jamie releases an oof as her back makes rough contact with the ground again, giggling too hard to successfully shove Dani over.

“Yes, actually, I think a child would be exactly that effective,” Dani informs her. Her body has never felt quite this alive, her muscles aching with the effort of an unplanned run. Jamie, chest heaving for breath, is practically glowing.

“Just want to remind you,” Jamie says, “you did start this.”

“Does that mean I win?” If she hasn’t, she can’t imagine it would feel any better than this: straddling Jamie’s hips in the soft grass, cool water seeping down her back, her dress sticking pleasantly to warm skin. Jamie allows the hose to drop from her grip at last, her head tipped back, eyes closed.

“Call it a draw.”

“What if I wanted to win?” She slides a hand up without thinking, pinning Jamie by the wrist before she can decide to take up her watery weapon again. Jamie draws a deep breath, face flushed, grinning.

“Guess you’d have to work harder for it.”

Children, Dani thinks--but suddenly, it doesn’t feel childish anymore. Suddenly, she’s overly aware of her dress rucked high around her thighs, of how short Jamie’s shorts really are, how her body is considerably less obscured than usual with her shirt plastered to her frame. Suddenly, she’s aware of Jamie’s hand flexing against the grass, pinned beside her head with a loose enough grip to break--though Jamie isn’t breaking it. Isn’t even trying.

Jamie is, instead, gazing up at her with hair mussed, eyes bright. Jamie, whose free hand is sliding up to rest along the curve of Dani’s hip.

She’s Dani’s best friend, like he was, but this doesn’t feel like it belongs in the same category as late-night stories swapped by the fire, or letting each other steal the vegetables the other doesn’t care for off their plate. This feels like a category all its own: the way Jamie licks her lips as Dani’s head lowers, the way Dani’s fingers graze the freckles painting her wrist on the way up to notching her palm against Jamie’s.

Her hair is wet, and Jamie’s face is sweaty, and there’s so little romance to the whole picture, it takes her by surprise. She’s always thought there should be talking before a thing like this, at least--a decision made on equal footing.

“I don’t have to,” she says, even as Jamie is saying, “Do you want to?”

Children would laugh again, go back to wrestling, go back to how it all felt just a few minutes before. They are not, Dani notes as she lowers her head--as Jamie shifts up at the shoulders to meet her--children.

She’s hyper-aware of all of it now: the sun beating against her shoulders, the hand Jamie is using to grip the back of her dress, the exact angle of Jamie’s mouth parting beneath her own. Her tongue is gentle, brushing Jamie’s, and the sound Jamie makes into her is anything but.

She’s smiling, she realizes, so hard, it hurts--that deep, wonderful hurt of laughing too hard for too long, of slipping in the grass and landing in a heap with someone who couldn’t help catching her on the way down. She’s grinning into Jamie even as she’s kissing her, even as she’s letting her body stretch out to press Jamie more firmly against the damp ground.

And Jamie, fingers curled between her own, making soft sounds of appreciation into the kiss, is grinning right back.

“This was your plan all along,” she accuses, brushing the hair from Dani’s eyes when they break for a breath. “Awful lot of work, for a kiss.”

“All’s fair?” Dani suggests--and she genuinely, honestly cannot decide which she likes more: the way Jamie kisses, or the way Jamie kisses and laughs at the same time. All of it, she feels, goes a country mile beyond best friends. All of it goes a country mile beyond anything she could ever have dreamed up, walking away from him the way she did.

It couldn’t possibly be more different.

#fanfiction #ficlet #the haunting of bly manor #dani x jamie #damie #physical affection tag #bit of an AU route solely to capture the Light and Airy of it all #but I'd say it suits any version of 'em

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queercore-curriculum · 3 years

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PLS go ahead and go off about qu. 1 and 10, i am intrigued!

YES, thank you so much for asking! And for the wonderful prompts, of course!

1. RQG characters are now the characters in another podcast you love. Whose places do they take, and how does this change the narrative?

I’ve spent a lot of time imagining the RQG characters in the world of Campaign: Skyjacks, which is my favorite podcast of all time. Here’s how I’d cast them:

Hamid as Jonnit Kessler. I mean, it’s a very clear parallel. Both have Big Protagonist Energy. Both are all about that coming-of-age narrative. Both are gifted at magic. Both have outstanding style. Both are known for vomiting. Neither of them can drink.

Wilde as Travis Matagot. Another extremely clear parallel. Travis is basically a nastier, more insecure, American Wilde. They are so similar, it’s fantastic. I’d actually love for this to be a crossover, and for Travis and Wilde to meet each other and just. Not get along, at all. Or maybe have a lot of sexual tension, who knows?

Zolf as Gable. Lots of great parallels here, particularly their crises of faith, their shared acts-of-service love language, and strong sense of responsibility for others. Also Gable’s old-married-couple dynamic with Travis is very Zoscar. All the existential crises, lol. I’ll also say that Azu could be a good fit for Gable as well—big, powerful, sweet, charmingly awkward—especially because Azu and Hamid’s lovely friendship is more in keeping with Gable’s dynamic with Jonnit.

I could go on and on about this, but my answer for #10 is very long and it’s getting late lol. I’ll just have to write an RQG/Skyjacks crossover or fusion at some point. Spéir is just such an unbelievably great world!

10. Invent a plot for a Harrison Campbell novel; fictional or from canon.

Oh my god I love this question so fucking much. I have a deep, unhealthy obsession with Zolf’s deep, unhealthy obsession with Harrison Campbell. I just think it says so much about his character—this idea that he thinks of love as something you read about in books, just a story that gives you comfort but isn't real. ZOLF SMITH I LOVE YOU SO MUCH.

All this is to say, I’ve plotted out four Harrison Campbell novels:

When Passions Collide

Jennifer is a commercial fisherwoman who has worked on a trawler since she was fourteen. Her captain is an absolute garbage person and she barely makes enough money to live, so she dreams of one day buying a trawler of her own.

Richard is an apprentice painter who is making his professional debut at an exhibition in London in a few months, but he has yet to produce a painting that’s worthy of showcasing—all of his work is technically exceptional but lacks that spark of inspiration that brings a painting to life, and he wants to paint someone with a story worth telling.

One day he goes to the docks to practice drawing from life, and when he sees Jennifer he’s captivated by her physicality and realizes that her body carries this story he’s been longing to paint. So he chases her down and asks to paint her portrait, and while she’s skeptical she agrees when he offers to give her all the money he makes when the painting is sold. Richard spends the rest of the novel painting Jennifer’s portrait and getting to know her, because he needs to understand her for the painting to really come to life.

If you want to read more, you can find passages of my take on When Passions Collide in my fic Before a Fall (for which I created the Jennifer/Richard tag on AO3, one of my proudest RQG fandom accomplishments). I plotted out the entire novel and developed backstories for the characters and generally got way too into it, but I’m pretty proud of what I came up with and actually thought about writing an original novel based on When Passions Collide for a while. Maybe someday!

Love in a Time of Hardship

Violet and Rory have been friends since childhood, and Rory has loved Violet all their life. But Violet doesn’t have time for romance because she wants nothing more than to leave their rural community and go to medical school.

Flash forward, and Violet has graduated medical school and is now an infectious disease specialist. When an aggressive pandemic sweeps through her hometown, Violet returns to work on the team researching a cure. Rory still lives there, and still loves Violet as much as ever. Violet still believes work comes first. But when Rory gets sick, suddenly Violet’s work is personal, and she realizes how much she has to lose.

The Heart Beats Faster

An erotic lesbian romance that takes place at manor house party. I haven’t put that much thought into this plot, other than it’s definitely inspired by Think of England by K.J. Charles and has an extremely sexy scene in a greenhouse that’s basically the legendary “spoils of war” scene from the Drarry fic Transfigurations by Resonant.

Questions of the Heart

Ok so this one is pretty meta. But in my coffeeshop AU fic Coriander, Wilde is a novelist who’s basically writing self-insert fic about him and Zolf while sitting in Zolf’s café. And on an RQG Discord server I was talking about how I kinda ship Zolf and Harrison Campbell because that fan/creator thing they’ve got going on is rife with sexual tension, and my friend Rain was like, what if Harrison Campbell came into the cafe a few years before but Zolf didn't recognize him, and was also inspired to write self-insert fic about him and Zolf?

So the premise is, Campbell went into Zolf’s café and soaking wet from the rain, and this handsome, muscular dwarf gave him a free curry so he could warm up, and then defended him from a mean customer. And Campbell was inspired to write a novel featuring Zolf as a protagonist.

So he writes Questions of the Heart, which is a murder mystery/gothic romance with a lot of pathetic fallacy that’s heavily inspired by Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights (but make it extremely pulpy). Zolf’s character is named Jonah (lol) and there’s a femme fatale inspired by Sasha named Melanie (lol). Harrison Campbell’s self-insert is a Jane Eyre-type that Jonah defends even though they don’t really know each other. And the basic theme is that Jonah has some kind of idealized/overromantic vision of the protagonist that gets disabused somehow, but then he ends up falling in love with him for who he really is. Also there’s a Jonah/Melanie/Harrison Campbell insert love triangle.

Alright I’m sure that was WAY more than you bargained for, but thanks for giving me an excuse to be extra AF, this was extremely fun <3

#rusty quill gaming #rqg ask game #skyjacks #harrison campbell #rgq

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razorblade180 · 3 years

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RWBY vol8 ep4 review

So far, this volume doesn’t miss. It also keeps me upset with certain characters which I guess is good because it’s consistent? Anyways...

The scene with Robyn and Qrow was pretty nice. He seemed to call down but doesn’t really give the audience anything we don’t already know. For a moment, I was kinda happy he realized he made a stupid decision and was overwhelmed, but that to me is pretty weak considering how bad decision was made from Clover fighting him. It really all comes to Qrow lamenting over losing friends, and I still hold the belief that Qrow could’ve flown away.

Marrow has been acting as Harriet’s impulse control and reason for so long now that I’m starting to ship it. Not sure how to feel about it. Robyn is right about her being angry, it’s weird how quick she wants to check Harriet about it and we didn’t see her response to when Qrow talked about murder. Can’t tell if she wants to bandaid situations or just pour alcohol.

This sequence was phenomenal. Everything moved by so fast that screenshots felt criminal. Jaune was MVP though. He really kept that momentum going as long as he could. The fact that Ren has aura left is also incredible. Also I know someone will bring this up so I will. It’s a little strange Yang didn’t propel herself with Ember Cilica. She even talked wishing one of them could fly. My only explanation for this is she wanted to preserve ammo or the bike just in case. Or maybe it would’ve been slower than the bike.

They’re in the same house again! Please have a moment. I know there’s bigger things at stake right now but Whitley literally just said how Willow decided to lock herself up in her room so he’s been alone, stewing in frustration. People are gonna complain about how whiny he is and yes, he’s a bit whiny, but wouldn’t you be. Every time your sister comes home things get worse for you. Now you’re an accessory to a crime and James is the one they’re against. Then you’re sent to your room. Like his life sucks lol. I only need a solid 4 minutes of schneeblings talking openly. I’d be really surprised if Winter doesn’t think to look here.

It’s very heated in the tundra. They chose the most beautiful place to have a fight. Ren is the perfect example of me loving a character and having conflicting feelings towards for a good reason. This beautiful man basically said volume 4-6 had us fumbling and thinking we hot stuff when we weren’t and volume 7 proved just how terrible our decision making is. For the most part, they’ve been lucky and barely functioning. It’s hard not to agree with him that they were never ready for this.

I just wish he wasn’t so mean about. 😭 He’s throwing potshots at people. They’re factual but hey man, you don’t have to say it out loud. The only bullet he didn’t fire was telling Yang about herself when it comes to Blake, but nobody wants those problems in the tundra.

So I took a lot of screenshots of this next part but I think I’m gonna sum up the entire thing in two.

Oscar is having the absolute worse day of his life. I feel terrible for him, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say I’m living for this absolute energy from the villains that is “Fuck them kids” He can’t do anything about it and bringing Oz out would be disastrous. They’d only beat him harder.

Cinder is on some shit again. She had the same job as Whitley, to stay in one spot. This will only blow up in her face spectacularly and now Emerald is involved because she’s as desperate for Cinder’s validation as Cinder is for power. Now that opening makes me think Mercury and Tyrian will be sent to bring them back for punishment. It will be crazy if we get a similar scene from last volume where Mercury is now in Qrow’s spot as Tyrian and Emerald fight. It be even crazier if it’s a simple decision for Mercury and he proceeds to help beat up Tyrian. It would hilarious honestly. He’s just like “Who would side with you to fight anybody? Especially people that I have a better history with.” I’d cackle.

This particular scene rubs me the wrong way a little. I’m talking about what you are seeing right now on the screen. Everything outside of this moment is fine, but this scene. It is 100% reasonable and makes sense for Blake and Ruby to have had the scene at the manor where they’re worried about the others because Nora is currently resting and the team is out of harms way. Realistically, Ruby’s team did their mission successfully.

Now I know Yang’s team is technically in downtime, but I don’t like how the biggest concern on Yang’s mind right now is if Blake will think badly of her for not helping with Amity. Why does that have priority over Oscar, Ren’s words, the other team’s status, and your argument with Ruby. Blake and her weren’t really at odds in the argument. Blake, Jaune, Weiss, and Oscar were the only people in that room that were concerned about making sure the group was okay and were fine with plans. Also, you can have Blake worry for Yang and not have to have it go both ways. The audience knows RT is pushing BB. We understand they care for each other. Having Blake be at the forefront of Yang’s mind right now really makes her seem like she cares less about everything else and makes her boring. It’s like beating a dead yorse. I love Yang. She continues to upset me.

#rwby #rwby volume 8 #yang xiao long #rwby spoilers #oscar pine #jaune arc #lie ren #whitley schnee #weiss schnee #qrow branwen #rwby salem #hazel reinhart #harriet bree #marrow amin

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lavenderlucy · 3 years

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Untitled 4x9 AU part 2

The plot bunny in my mind isn’t quiet finished yet. Here’s the second part to my very first piece Untitled 4x9 AU (I’m terrible at coming up with titles). This one has more angst than the last, but I will be making up for it with a third and final part coming soon. Thanks for reading!

Part 1 is here

Caroline was surprised to see a police car in Tyler’s driveway when she arrived early that morning. After spending a sleepless night battling her conflicting emotions about the night before she decided to check on Tyler before she made her way back to the cellar. She assumed he had already run from Mystic Falls after his plan to take down Klaus had failed, but she hadn’t heard anything from him since before Hayley snapped her neck in the Grille. She parked her car and got out just as the front door to the Lockwood manor opened to reveal two of her mother’s deputies leaving the house with grim expressions on their faces.

“Officer Sanders?” Caroline questioned one of them, “what’s going on?” She couldn’t help the nervousness seeping through her tone. Last night’s massacre must have already been discovered. She wondered how the Sheriff’s department was going to cover this one up. A few “animal attacks” were one thing, but 12 dead and dismembered hybrids on the Mayor’s lawn were another.

“I’m sorry, Caroline. This will be public by tomorrow, but I can’t discuss an active investigation. Tyler is inside. He can tell you.” Officer Sanders and the other deputy walked passed her and made their way to their car.

Caroline was surprised that Tyler was still in Mystic Falls. She walked through the door to the manor, worry clouding her mind. If Klaus found out Tyler was still in town there would be nothing stopping him from coming over here and killing him. She heard the sound of a sigh, Tyler’s, coming from the sitting room. As she walked down the main hall and turned to enter the room she smelled liquor and tears. She could feel the heavy feeling of grief all around her. She found Tyler sitting on a sofa with his head in one hand and a tumbler of what looked like scotch in the other.

“Tyler?” She questioned as she moved towards him. He looked wrecked. His eyes were bloodshot. His shoulders slumped. Caroline vaguely wondered if Carol was home. She made her distaste at seeing her son drink while he was technically still underage clear.

“Tyler?” She tried again. Finally he looked up at her. The broken look on his face gnawed at her heart.

“Care...” he tried to continue but a pained sob left his lips instead. Caroline flashed forward and stopped just a few inches from him.

“Tyler I’m so sorry. I tried to stop him, but I was too late. They were dead by the time I got there. I’m so so sorry.” Caroline finally felt the grief she had been putting off for the 12 hybrids. The reality of what Klaus had done was setting in. Tears threatened to spill over. For Tyler and his friends and for the friendship that had been tentatively building between her and Klaus. There’s no way she could feel anything for the man that slaughtered his own pack so willingly she thought to herself. A lie, her mind told her, but now was not the time to dwell on that.

“What are you- you don’t know, do you?” Tyler’s voice interrupted her thoughts and brought her back to the present.

“Don’t know what?” Caroline questioned. Dread suddenly filled her.

“After Klaus murdered the others he came here and he...” Tyler trailed off and a look a pure rage took over his features.

“What did he do, Tyler?” She asked afraid of the answer.

“He killed her!” Tyler shouted, standing suddenly making Caroline stumble a few steps backward. “He killed my mom to get back at me. That sick fucker came here and drowned her in the fountain.” He swallowed the remainder of his drink, the crystal tumbler still clutched in his hand.

Tyler was seething. He never had great control over the beast inside him and it was evident in the way his wolf pressed against his skin now. His eyes were gold and veins trailed from his eyes down to his cheek bones.

“What?” Any color that Caroline had in her pale features left her suddenly. She felt as though her knees would not continue to support her.

“HE KILLED HER!” Tyler screamed. The glass in his hand was suddenly shattering into pieces against the wall behind Caroline.

“I’m so sorry, Tyler. I had no idea. I tried to stop it, but Hayley got to me before I could. That bitch snapped my neck. I told you this whole thing was a bad idea. I’m so s-“ Caroline started but Tyler interrupted her before she could finish.

“Seriously, Care? You told me so? My mother and my pack are fucking dead and that’s your response?” Tyler took a step towards Caroline, his eyes still golden and enraged.

“That’s n-not what I m-meant,” Caroline stammered. “I’m so sorry, Tyler. That’s not what I meant.” Her foot was firmly in her mouth. Her tendency to say the wrong thing reared it’s ugly head.

Tears spilled down her cheeks now. She reached for Tyler to wrap him in a hug, but he stepped away from her. Caroline felt the sting of rejection.

“You should leave. I have things to handle with the police and my mother’s,” Tyler cleared his throat, “my lawyers.” His wolf receded from his face and he now looked like it was taking all of his strength just to remain standing.

“Tyler, you shouldn’t be alone. Why didn’t you call me last night? I’m here for you. Let me help,” Caroline pleaded. She stayed where she was even though all she wanted to do was wrap Tyler in her arms and comfort him. Even though their relationship had been slowly falling apart in the past few weeks, or months if she was being honest, she still cared for the boy in front of her. The boy who was now an orphan.

“Just go, Caroline. I don’t need you. I need to find Hay-.” He stopped talking and his jaw clicked shut. He looked like hadn’t meant to mention the girl that betrayed him and his friends, who had snapped his supposed girlfriend’s neck.

“Hayley? You need to find Hayley?” Caroline’s voice became louder and full of anger. “That backstabbing bitch sold you and your pack out to Klaus. I found out last night right before she snapped my neck and left me on the floor of the bathroom in the Grille. I was trying to stop her and save you all, Tyler. Klaus wouldn’t have had an advantage had she not run to him and told him the whole plan. Maybe he wouldn’t have killed them if we tired to reason with him. He probably felt cornered so he lashed out.” Caroline knew mentioning Klaus right now was a terrible idea, but Tyler had to realize that Hayley betrayed him.

“So now you’re defending Klaus?” Tyler’s anger returned in full force. “That’s really nice, Caroline. You’re defending the bastard that killed my pack and my mother not even a full day ago.” Tyler’s eyes started to bleed gold.

“I’m not defending him! Hayley betrayed you. This whole mess is her fault! I saw Klaus last night and-“ She wasn’t able to finish her sentence before Tyler flashed in front of her, his face just inches from hers.

“You saw him last night?” His voice was quiet and accusatory. Caroline could feel his anger radiating from his body.

“Yes. I was looking for you,” she began evenly, hoping to calm him down. “I was worried about you. I found him out in the cellar. We only talked for a couple of minutes and then he left.”

“Let me guess, you batted your eyes and he let you go,” Tyler sneered. “Typical Caroline, flirting with monsters to make herself feel better.” The look he was giving her was one of pure disgust.

“No! I mean yes, he left without hurting me, but I didn’t bat anything at him, Tyler, and I certainly didn’t flirt with him!” Caroline was becoming annoyed. Tyler was grieving, but that wasn’t an excuse to speak to her that way.

Tyler and Caroline were silent for several long moments. Their annoyance with each other hung between them. Caroline’s thoughts drifted to Klaus without her permission. He had let her go last night. He could have killed her in a second with no effort and he had let her live. He had been so gentle when he pressed his lips to her mouth and cheek, like he was scared she might break. It was hard for Caroline to reconcile the broken man last night with the man who murdered Tyler’s mother just minutes after nearly kissing her. Klaus was a monster, yes, but weren’t they all? Hadn’t they all killed to protect themselves or their loved ones? Hell, hadn’t they all killed for no reason at all other than they lost control? How many times did Tyler expect he could provoke Klaus before he lashed out?

“Tyler...” Caroline didn’t know what to say to him. She wiped her tears from her face with the back of her hand and took a breath to ground herself.

“Go, Caroline. Just go. Please.” Tyler looked like he was going break down. Caroline had barely taken a half step toward him when his eyes flashed yellow and his fangs emerged from his gums.

“GO!” He shouted.

Caroline knew in that moment that they were over. He would rather look for the bitch that had sold out his pack and almost gotten him killed instead of be in the same room as her. She knew it was selfish to think this way when his grief was still fresh, but she didn’t care. Her fear that he had been cheating on her didn’t seem so far fetched after all. Their show at the pageant just a short while ago didn’t seem so much like a ruse now. Tyler clearly had feelings for Hayley if he still wanted to find her after all of this. She met his eyes and tried to convey something, anything to make him see she wasn’t the bad guy here. His glare was still full of rage so she turned and flashed out of the house.

Once she was in her car Caroline felt anger rush through her. How dare Tyler choose the girl that betrayed him and his friends over her? How dare he accuse her of flirting with Klaus? How dare he dismiss her? Caroline needed an outlet for her anger. She knew she would get nowhere with Tyler today so her mind settled on Klaus. How dare Klaus make her care for him despite everything that he is and then murder his hybrids? How dare he give her jewelry and romantic drawings and then drown Tyler’s mother? Caroline’s anger quickly turned to rage and she sped out of Tyler’s driveway toward the Mikaelson mansion.

Her car was barely in park before she whipped open her door and stalked up to Klaus’s front door, her blonde curls bouncing with each step.

“Klaus!” She shouted while banging her fist on the door. After a minute with no answer she banged louder. “Come out here you unbelievable bastard!” She was about to start yelling louder when the door was suddenly ripped open and an enraged looking Klaus stood in the doorway, eyes flashing gold. The sleeves of his dark gray henley were pushed up to his elbows and Caroline could see small flecks of paint on his hands. Klaus opened his mouth to growl something at her, but Caroline beat him to it.

“How could you? How could you be such a monster?” She shouted, her hands shaking with rage, as she took a step up towards him.

Klaus’s eyes narrowed and he stepped out of the doorway to meet her on the top step of his porch.

“How could I?” He gritted out between clenched teeth. “How could I kill the mutts that Lockwood and his little friend unsired and turned against me? HOW COULD I?” He raised his voice louder until he was shouting at Caroline.

Caroline opened her mouth to speak again, but this time Klaus interrupted her.

“Or are you talking about his mother? She was a fighter you know. She fought until her very last second, desperate for air.” He taunted with a wicked smirk on his lips, eyes sharp. Caroline gasped, shocked at the way he spoke so casually about killing Carol.

“He took EVERYTHING from me,” Klaus spat. “It’s only fair I finally take something from him. You lot have been trying to kill me since I returned to this infernal town and now you’re shocked that I exacted my revenge. You called me a monster, love. This is what monsters do.”

“Carol was innocent! She didn’t deserve to be a part of your twisted game! God, I don’t know why I ever gave you even a second of my time. You’re clearly not worth it!” Caroline shouted back at him. Had she been in a more rational state of mind she would have been almost afraid to shout at the man who just murdered 13 people, but her heightened emotions clouded her judgement.

Klaus’s features turned darker and before Caroline could blink he pulled her across the threshold by her upper arms and slammed her against the wall of his lavish foyer, the plaster cracking around her. The breath left Caroline’s lungs and her eyes widened as she took in his golden eyes and double fangs. She realized how stupid she had been to come here and pick a fight with Klaus. She let out a pained cry as she felt her ribs and spine protest. She was pretty sure something was fractured at the very least. Klaus grip loosened infinitesimally until he saw tears form in her blue eyes, threatening to spill over her cheeks.

Klaus removed his hands from Caroline’s arms and took several steps back from her. Something that looked almost like regret for his rough treatment of her flashed across his face. Caroline slid slightly down the wall before she locked her knees and caught herself. There was no way she was going to give Klaus the satisfaction of seeing her fall.

A moment passed and Klaus slowly moved forward with a grace that only came with age until he was close enough to touch her. He slowly lifted his hands so he didn’t frighten her and once more gripped her upper arms. Instead of bruising his touch was soft yet firm. He helped Caroline to stand up straight and held her there while her bones fused themselves back together. A single tear escaped and made its way down her face. Before it could reach her jaw Klaus moved one hand to cradle the side her face and brushed the tear away with his thumb. Caroline moved her free arm and grasped Klaus’s wrist with hesitant fingers. She hadn’t meant to touch him, but her body acted on its own accord. She could feel his slow pulse and his warm skin beneath her fingers. She could smell the blood running through his veins. The two of them stood there unmoving and staring at each other for several long minutes. Regret clouded Klaus’s face. Caroline wondered how many times in his long life he’d ever been sorry for anything he’d done.

“Not many,” Klaus answered softly, “but I find myself making exceptions for you, Caroline.”

Caroline realized she’d spoken out loud and blushed slightly. Klaus moved his thumb over the light pink on her cheek, looking as though he was fascinated by the color. She knew she shouldn’t be so comfortable in Klaus’s embrace, especially after she had seen Tyler’s grief stricken face earlier. She shouldn’t be so comfortable with a murderer’s touch, but she couldn’t bring herself to move. Something in Klaus’s touch ignited something in her that she had never felt before. A feeling of completeness. A feeling that someone truly cared for her. A feeling that she was finally enough.

#klaroline fanfiction #klaroline drabbles #klaroline

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dramatic-squirrel · 3 years

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Damianette December Day 3- Legends

I’m not entirely happy with this, it’s more Maribat in generally, rather than focusing on Damianette but... it’s all i’ve got today.

@daminette-december2019-2020

It was a normal afternoon that the two were hanging out together in the living room at Wayne Manor. They weren’t talking at first. He sat on the couch reading a book, she was on the floor leaning against his legs as she sketched her most recent design. There was no reason to mention it but, out of nowhere, Damian had brought up the topic of Paris’ superheroes.

“Marinette?” she hummed to acknowledge that she had heard him. “What exactly do you know about the Parisian superheroes?” It startled her a little that he suddenly asked, even Tikki made a small squeak of surprise, luckily he didn’t hear that.

“Um, not much I guess. About as much as any other Parisian does, maybe a bit more since Alya always tells me about her theories on them.”

“Theories?”

Why did she mention the theories, that was worse! What should she say? What would be innocuous enough that it wouldn’t place suspicion on her? Burying her head into her sketchbook and continuing her drawing she finally answered him. “Uh, yeah, like Alya had this theory about how Ladybug is thousands of years old since there was evidence of her in some hieroglyphics she found at the Louvre.” This way if he thought that she was ancient, he would never connect her with her superhero persona.

He pondered that information for a bit. Originally he had asked about the superheroes because he was curious about whether they were doing a good job at protecting Paris, and consequently keeping Marinette safe. Now, he simply became more curious. He only knew of a handful of people who managed to have such an incredible life span. “Did Alya find any other places where Ladybug lived in the past or what identities she took?” If the hero was in any way connected to the Lazarus pits he wanted to know in advance.

Marinette was hesitant to reveal too much information but, there was evidence of the past holders out there so sticking to the truth as much as possible would be less suspicious if he found out she was lying later on. “Apparently she’s been all over the world. Alya suspects that Jeanne d ’arc and Ladybug are the same person. And she found an artifact linking Hercules to the same type of artifact that Ladybug and Chat Noir use, so Alya thought that Hippolyta might have also been one of Ladybug’s past identities.”

Now that was surprising information to him. Knowing Wonder Woman, the daughter of Hippolyta, he knew that she couldn’t be Ladybug because she was always on Themyscira. The most likely scenario was that Marinette’s friend was just wrong about her theory that Hippolyta was Ladybug but, there was always the possibility that Ladybug was just a mantle passed down, which would account for the long history and her appearances all over the world.

Regardless, there was too little information to actually determine anything so he decided to let the matter rest, at least, until he had a chance to talk to his father and Wonder Woman. He went back to reading, and she went back to sketching. Until the unthinkable happened.

Only a few moments later and Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, and Diana Prince walked in through the doorway discussing something. The moment they noticed Marinette, they stopped talking, indicating it was League business.

The next thing that happened was Diana walking forward, with the same confidence she always had and leaning over to shake Marinette’s hand.

Marinette just looked at her confused, hesitatingly reaching her hand out to shake the stranger’s hand. “Hello?”

“Hello, young Ladybug. It’s wonderful to meet my honorary younger sister.” Not a single person in the room quite understood what was going on for the first couple of minutes. After all of the surprises that already hit Marinette today, she just couldn’t react. Bruce and Clark were simply unaware of everything that was going on, only Bruce vaguely remembering something about Paris’ situation and sighing at the forces of the universe that lead Damian to date a superhero without even knowing.

And Damian, well, like Marinette, he didn’t quite know how to react. Before he could figure it out, Diana continued to talk to Marinette. “My mother would love to meet the successor to her position. Next time you are available we shall visit Themyscira together.”

It wasn’t a question, but Marinette answered like it was one. Jumping up in excitement, she voiced her disbelief. “Really!? Tikki would love that! And to be able to meet someone who knows more about my powers than I do would help me so much.” It wasn’t until after she finished talking that she realized that she had just confirmed that she was in fact Ladybug. “Uh, I mean. What are you talking about? Me as Ladybug, that’s ridiculous.”

Diana put a hand on her shoulder calming the young heroine down. “There is no need to keep it a secret here Ladybug. We all share the same position as responsibilities” And so, Diana revealed another surprise to Marinette, apparently she had been dating a superhero without knowing it. Looking at Damian she put two and two together.

“Considering you live in Gotham, I’m guessing your one of the Robins?”

Damian finally managed to react at last. “Yes… the current Robin actually” he appeared sheepish after confirming that he was technically lying to her about the matter the entire time.

“Well… I’m sorry for keeping my identity a secret from you” she apologized. “Seeing as how you’re in the same position, I’m guessing you understand why but, I still came as a shock right?”

Damian just smiled at her, grabbed her hand, and pulled her next to him on the couch. “No need for an apology, Angel. At the rate we were going neither of us would have told the truth until we were married already. This just means we found out earlier, right?”

“Married? That’s some strong implication, Damian. I hope you live up to it.” The two of them became absorbed into their own world ignoring the three adults near the doorway.

Clark patted Bruce’s back in sympathy. “At least you won’t have to sneak around anymore, Bruce.”

The exhaustion was rolling off of Bruce in waves. “I was hoping that at least one of my kids would date someone more normal to balance out all of the crazy in the house. Now I’m going to have to deal with Dick teaching her acrobatics with the foyer’s chandelier, Jason teaching her how to shoot a gun, and Stephanie showing her how to hotwire the batmobile.”

The trio looked back at the couple ignoring everything else in the room. “Your son has found a wonderful lady,” Diana congratulated. “Ladybugs are special, they are lucky and are connected to a long history of legends. She will bring much luck to your family.”

#damianette december 2020 #damianette #maribat

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iturbide · 3 years

Text

Bad End AU

This thing is eating my brain at present and I still don’t have a fully fleshed-out plotline for it yet but I have a lot of things that I want to explore and it’s very likely it won’t happen in order after I get through the opening sections, so consider this a masterlist of what to expect down the line.

(Please note that the list is in flux, not all events are necessarily in order, and things may be added as ideas occur; also, feel free to ask if there’s something you want to see discussed more)

The Fall of Fodlan

Claude is defeated at Derdriu; Edelgard chooses to kill him, and Byleth makes the blow

Hilda, who had been holding her own, fights her way to Claude too late; before she can take Edelgard out, Byleth strikes her down, too

Nader takes a small party from the Almyran fleet back to the Derdriu harbor with the intent on bringing Claude’s body home; on finding they’re still alive, both Claude and Hilda are evacuated back to the fleet

Claude comes to while in transit back to Almyra; he and Hilda talk about the battle and the future

On reaching the Almyran harbor, Nader flies to the capital to inform the king and queen; both immediately rush to their son’s side

Nader takes a small contingent of Almyrans to the Locket to kidnap Holst, who is in bad shape after hearing about Hilda’s death at Derdriu, and bring him to the capital to reunite him with his sister

Edelgard executes Dimitri at Tailtean and proceeds to Fhirdiad; news of the king’s death reaches Almyra only after Fodlan has already fallen

United Adrestia: Years 1 - 2

Claude opts to take an advisory position in Almyra, rather than challenging his father for the throne. Since she’s technically supposed to be dead, Hilda stays with him in Almyra.

Following in Judith’s footsteps, Claude begins to organize an information network that extends into Fodlan, and contacts Ignatz to act as a key source within the Alliance.

Dorothea moves into the Enbarr palace with Edelgard; Ferdinand assumes the role of Prime Minister advising the Empress; Lysithea and Hanneman begin research into Crests in hopes of finding a way to restore Lysithea’s shortened life; Petra remains in the Empire as a representative of Brigid’s interests.

Despite Edelgard’s high expectations, efforts to oppose the Agarthans are hampered by limited information and unrest throughout the conquered territories.

Edelgard attempts to ally with Almyra in hopes of securing the aid of their military to keep the peace in the former Alliance territories; her treaty is soundly rebuffed by the king and queen.

Edelgard receives the response from Almyra and is significantly less than pleased, but leaves the Imperial messenger unscathed.

Left to enforce the peace by her own means, Edelgard redirects Hanneman and Lysithea’s research away from Crests, assigning them to work with Linhardt toward more direct measures to support the Empire.

Seeing no other recourse, Edelgard reveals to her allies that there is another threat in the shadows, Those Who Slither in the Dark, shaking their confidence and shattering their trust.

Rumors begin to circulate in the former Kingdom territories about a living Blaiddyd heir; Hubert sends agents to investigate and deal with the issue.

The same rumors reach Almyra, prompting Claude and Hilda to infiltrate the Kingdom on a covert investigation.

While exploring the former Gautier territory, Claude and Hilda stumble across Ashe and Annette, along with a group of old Kingdom loyalists and a teenager named Nika who looks shockingly like Dimitri.

Hubert’s agents launch a surprise attack, during which the child’s Major Crest of Blaiddyd flares; with solid evidence in hand, Claude offers them all refuge in Almyra.

On reaching Almyra, Claude adds several key conditions to the terms of their asylum, which the Kingdom loyalists are forced to comply with for Nika’s safety.

United Adrestia: Years 3 - 7

Nika begins training under Claude, Hilda, Ashe, and Annette in a broad variety of subjects, ranging from diplomacy to horseback riding to weapons handling.

Hubert continues struggling to root out the Agarthan threat, a task made more difficult by the limited information available to him and the unfavorable conditions in the Empire at large.

Caspar is tasked with keeping the peace in the original Imperial territories while his father is charged with enforcing Adrestia’s rule in the former Alliance.

Ferdinand continues to challenge Edelgard regarding her plans for reform and equality in the expanded Empire, attempting to prioritize the needs of the people over the hunt for the Agarthans.

Bernadetta begins to withdraw despite Edelgard’s firm insistence that she appear at the capital to offer counsel.

Lysithea reaches out to Edelgard directly regarding her reduced lifespan; the Empress dismisses her worries as an Agarthan lie, given that she was never told the same.

Dorothea moves out of the Enbarr Palace, too dispirited by the state of the Empire and the truth of Edelgard’s deception to bear living beside her in silence.

Wary of the inevitable problem the surviving Blaiddyd might become, Hubert sends assassins into Almyra to deal with Nika; none return thanks to Claude and his parents.

Lysithea, realizing that her time is growing short, prepares her will and informs Lorenz of her plans to bequeath the Ordelia territory to him; in response, he tries to find some way to extend her shortened life.

Ferdinand finally exhausts Edelgard’s patience; he is dismissed from the position of prime minister and “reassigned” to govern Hyrm as his late father did before him.

Lysithea passes away; the remaining three Golden Deer meet following the funeral to discuss the state of things under Imperial rule, and Lorenz despairs that he chose the wrong side in the war.

Nika approaches his mentors to ask about Dimitri, the half-brother he never knew; he asks, too, about Edelgard, and though Hilda, Annette, and Ashe speak viciously against her, Claude is calm and reasoned in his criticisms, giving Nika deeper insight into the qualities of a good leader.

United Adrestia: Years 8 - 12

Under mounting pressure from the old Kingdom loyalists tasked with his tutelage, Nika copes by spends increasing amounts of time with Claude, which proves invaluable for both his training and his mental health.

Lorenz makes frequent visits to the former Ordelia territory to oversee and manage affairs, putting him in contact with Ferdinand in the neighboring Hyrm territory across the river; the two begin to meet and talk regularly.

Dorothea attempts to coax Bernadetta out of hiding in the Varley Manor as often as she can; she gets no response directly, but occasionally finds a new picture or embroidered plush as proof that her friend is still there.

With conditions in the Empire worsening due to heavy taxation and growing famine, Hubert pulls Petra into assisting him directly with the Agarthan threat; as she is still a political prisoner in truth, she has no choice but to comply.

Upon careful review of several documents left by Dimitri, coupled with Ashe’s and Annette’s recollections, Claude reaches out to Ignatz and asks him to deliver a message to Dorothea.

Despite her low spirits after performing the Empress’ Opera, Dorothea is overjoyed when Ignatz approaches her and readily invites him in, sharing seemingly incidental details of the former Black Eagles’ lives before Ignatz relays the missive Claude had sent.

Having Claude’s oath in writing that her actions will never be revealed, Dorothea agrees to help and returns to the Enbarr Palace, removing a document related to the Arundel family history from the archives and passing it to Ignatz.

With the document in hand, Claude finally manages to put the missing pieces together regarding Dimitri and Edelgard’s shared history, and confirming that the Empress killed her step-brother at Tailtean.

On the eve of Nika’s 24th birthday, Claude reminds him that the choice of whether to return to Fodlan or not is one only he can make: he’ll be an adult by Almyran law the next day, so no one can force him to go if he doesn’t want to.

Nika decides to return to Fodlan; Claude challenges his father for the right to accompany Nika as Almyra’s ambassador and leader of their allied forces.

The Fall of the United Adrestian Empire

The Almyran army breaches Fodlan’s Locket with help from Holst, then proceed to cut off the Empire at Myrddin before they can mount a defense.

Lorenz allies with Claude and takes over the defense of Myrddin with help from Hilda; Claude and Nika proceed north to recapture Derdriu and upset the Empire’s power center in the former Alliance.

Making their way west from Derdriu, Claude and Nika enter the Kingdom territories; with Ashe and Annette’s help, Nika begins to rally the Kingdom loyalists in the far north.

The Kingdom forces make their way to Fhirdiad, growing larger with every town they pass through; riots erupt in the capital when the Blaiddyd heir arrives, overwhelming the Imperial forces stationed there.

Nika claims the right to rule by virtue of his Major Crest of Blaiddyd and ascends the throne of Faerghus, taking Areadbhar in the process.

Pushing south, Nika and the Kingdom army force the Imperials back to the original border between Faerghus and Adrestia.

Claude and the Almyrans make their way east to Myrddin and reunite with Lorenz and Hilda; both armies proceed toward Enbarr.

The Kingdom and Alliance forces converge in Varley territory, meeting only cursory resistance; Raphael finds Bernadetta locked in the Varley manor and manages to coax her out.

On reaching Enbarr, Claude reveals the sibling relationship between Edelgard and Dimitri, branding her as a kinslayer for executing her brother at Tailtean and sowing turmoil through the Imperial capital.

Edelgard refuses to forfeit her claim on her conquered territories, leading to a battle within the Enbarr palace; she is eventually defeated and subdued.

With the Alliance territories conquered by Almyran forces and her claim to Faerghus tainted by the blood of her brother, Edelgard is forced to cede both holdings and old borders are re-established.

Edelgard is further forced to abdicate the throne in favor of a successor; while her heir’s training is not yet complete, Claude recommends Ferdinand be reinstated as Prime Minister and advisor to the throne.

Nika returns to Faerghus to start rebuilding; Claude leaves Lorenz in charge of the Alliance territories, citing Almyra’s hands-off style of governance, before returning home to challenge his father for the throne.

#fire emblem: three houses #fanfiction #bad end au #this is mostly just basics #there are so many details that go into all of this #like just imagine: ignatz at the opera #i've bee having so many thoughts about this #and a lot of them make me sad #but claude basically adopting nika makes me happy #the double-edged sword that is bad end au

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corinnesamuels · 3 years

Text

Guarding the Gates, Chapter 6: Today is the Day

In hindsight, Lily realizes that she should have asked more questions the morning James showed up at her flat.

And if she hadn’t asked questions then, she definitely should have asked questions a week later when, after arriving at James’ match against Wimbourne, Sirius said that they’d be gathering at the manor as opposed to heading back to The Bulrush after the match. Lily chalked it up to not wanting to relive the Death Eater attack. But while Remus and Peter might have considered it good sense, Sirius usually would have gone just on the off chance that the Death Eaters did return. There were very few things that Sirius Black found to be daunting.

And if she hadn’t noticed then, she definitely should have noticed something was off when Miranda wasn’t in the box with them, or the Marauders, while cheering as loudly as ever, all seemed to have wistful looks mixed in with the pride in their eyes. She should have noticed that Peter almost looked sad.

But Lily didn’t notice any of it.

So after the match, where Puddlemere narrowly pulled off a win, and James played one of the best matches he’d played in his entire life, Lily didn’t think much about why the boys walked over to the press area to watch the post-match press conference they usually skipped.

But now that she’s here, she sees that something must be wrong because the Puddlemere players don’t quite look like people who had just won a fierce match. Lily’s eyes scan the players, lingering over James, who looks proud and resolute. She hears Puddlemere’s captain Brandon Hastings thanking the press for being there and giving his highlights of the match.

“—but before we get any further into it, I want to let Potter say a few words.”

Well, that’s interesting. Lily thinks to herself. Normally the other players just answer questions, not provide commentary. Confused, she looks to Sirius and Remus, who are staring straight ahead, and to Peter, who is fidgeting and looking down at his shoes.

She’s about to ask what is going on when she hears it.

“Today is my last match as a member of Puddlemere United.” James’ voice cuts through the questions in her mind, causing her to snap her head back to the head table where he sat with the rest of the team. She hears the gasps and murmurs from the press and other attendees.

“For the last four years, Puddlemere has afforded me my childhood dream of being a professional quidditch player. I’ve honed my skills here. I’ve shed blood, sweat, and tears here. I fulfilled another dream of being selected to join the English National Team here. But this is where that journey ends.”

“What the fuck is he doing??” Lily whispers loudly to Sirius, who gives a quick shake of his head and gestures with a nod toward the podium.

“From this point on, my work will center around aiding causes that fight back against the work of Voldemort and the Death Eaters—” a shiver runs through the crowd at James’ use of the name, but he pushes forward as if he didn’t notice. “My immediate priority will be helping to support the children orphaned by the attacks through a fund at Hogwarts School . . .”

The rest of the press conference is a blur. It isn’t until Sirius tugs at her elbow that she realizes that she’d blanked out for most of it. They were heading to the apparition point now and would meet James at the manor soon. She vaguely hears Peter saying he was going to check on his mum before the world around her squeezes and spins wildly through space.

“I don’t know that I understand what just happened.” She says once she found herself in Fleamont’s sitting room. Had she managed to apparate with this level of distraction without splinching herself? Or had someone side-alonged her?

Remus takes a breath and opens his mouth to speak, but his mouth opens and closes before settling on which words to use. “James should be here soon.” He eventually says. Lily looks at him, expecting more. But he doesn’t seem to have more. He also doesn’t seem to be surprised. And as she looks around the room, she realizes that none of them are.

“You knew?” she asks. “You all knew and you didn’t try to stop him? He’s walking away from his dream—”

“Lily.” Sirius’ voice is firm and soft all at once. It shocks her into silence. “James will be here soon. He wants to be the one to tell you.”

Lily shakes her head in disbelief. “Well, why didn’t he?” she half shouts.

“Because I knew you’d try to talk me out of it.” James says as he walks into the room, his broom over his shoulder and his blue and gold quidditch kit still on. He carries a duffle bag embroidered with the Puddlemere logo, which Lily is certain contains the various odds and ends he’d accumulated in the team’s locker room over time. He sets it all down, stopping to reverently wipe an invisible smudge off of his broom handle, before walking into the kitchen to pour himself a stiff drink.

Lily quickly follows, her footsteps making contact with the floor harder than usual. “What on earth did you do?” She asks as she walks into the large kitchen. Sirius and Remus, who had been following behind Lily and just reached the kitchen, exchange slightly nervous glances and creep back out of the room instead.

“I retired.” He says calmly before draining his glass.

“You can’t retire, you dolt, you just started!”

“I signed four years ago. I technically could have last year—”

“You know that’s not what I mean. You’ve only been the lead chaser for a year. You just made the national team. Why are you throwing it away?”

James pauses for a moment and looks down at the floor to gather his thoughts. For a moment, Lily wonders if she’s pushed too hard until he makes eye contact with her again.

“You once asked me if I’d ever get tired of quidditch.” James says. She remembers. He had been giving a play-by-play of a match he had listened to on the wireless before they started rounds one night during their seventh year, and Lily had asked the question teasingly. It had been a joke, something she had been growing more and more fond of doing with him at the time. She looks at him now and still can’t quite believe what he’s about to say.

“I said never. But I’d let it go—”

“The day something else became more important.” she finishes softly. The weight of it knocks the wind out of her.

“Today is the day.” He says. Lily can see the conviction in him. He didn’t shrug or run his fingers through his hair in frustration. He’s serious.

He’s resolved.

“You didn’t have to do this.” She says. “James this is your dream. I’d never have asked you to do this . . .” She trails off and turns away from him as she feels herself getting emotional. The war isn’t just taking lives away. It’s taking dreams away too.

Lily ambles toward the window that overlooks the grounds behind the manor. She doesn’t know how long she’s been standing there, whether it’s been a few seconds or if it had stretched into several long minutes. But she’s a little shocked when she feels James’ calloused fingers on her arm, gently turning her around to face him.

“I know you wouldn’t have.” He says softly as he looks into her eyes. “You would have tried to stop me because you’re right. It was my dream. But in a war like this, someone like me needs more than a dream. I need a mission. I’d never be able to sleep knowing that I had the capacity to do more but settled for less. Quidditch isn’t going anywhere. I can always go back when the war is over or maybe become a coach or a scout. But I won’t rest until I know that I’ve done everything I possibly could to stop Voldemort.”

James looks as if he wants to say more, but nothing comes. They stand there in silence as the weight of what he’s said settles around them. As she stares up at him, Lily lets herself imagine that he did it not just for morality’s sake. Not just for muggle-borns, but for her.

And then, possibly because the universe hates her, Miranda walks in.

Lily’s feels her chest tighten. She’d been doing such a good job of living a Miranda-free life, and now here the woman is, ruining a moment, bittersweet though it may be. For a moment, it had felt like something out of Lily’s daydreams.

“James. I thought we talked about this.” Miranda says angrily as she marches toward James, who takes a step back from Lily to meet Miranda head-on.

“We did.” James says stiffly.

“And you chose to do this anyway?” Miranda’s eyes narrow, and Lily finds herself a little bothered that everyone knew before her.

“No one listens to the wireless anymore, clearly.” Sirius says casually as he strolls back into the kitchen to put a kettle on. “A shame, really.” Remus follows him into the room, covering up a smile. Lily is sure that Sirius is purposefully antagonizing Miranda, and Remus has picked it up as well. But if they heard what Miranda said to James just now, how much of Lily’s conversation had they eavesdropped on? Mildly stressing over what it might have sounded like to them is preferred to listening to Miranda faffing about, so she tunes Miranda out and mulls this over instead. That is until—

“You’re really throwing your life away for some people you don’t even know?”

Lily snaps out of her fog and her heart rate skyrockets. If she had her wand in her hand, she might have accidentally shot sparks. Sirius and Remus look as if they don’t know whether to back out of the room again or hold Lily back from lashing out at Miranda. A fair concern, considering the last time Lily and Miranda saw each other. As her rage builds, Lily grits her teeth and prepares to issue a scathing response, but James beats her to it.

“One of my best friends is muggle-born, or do you not see her standing here?” James asks. He sounds as if he’s doing his best to keep his voice neutral, but Lily can hear the strain. “I don’t have to work. Hell, my grandchildren may not even have to work. I can understand the confusion around that because we don’t talk about it, but those are the facts. But regardless of the confusion, I won’t argue about how I choose to use my money or my time. Especially when it comes to the well-being of my friends.”

Everyone in the room is stunned. Sirius is half-heartedly trying to hide a wolfish grin, and Remus looks as if he is still not sure whether it’s best to back out or keep an eye on Lily’s proximity to Miranda, who Lily notes, looks positively gobsmacked.

It brings Lily no small amount of joy.

Read the rest at ao3!

Or start from the beginning

#jily fanfic #jily fic #harry potter #lily and james #quidditchplayer!james #First War with Voldemort #first wizarding war #James finally gets it right

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black-streak · 4 years

Text

Perfectly Planned

Saturday's Alright snippet written for @witchsblackfox

This... Definitely wasn't what I think either of us were expecting, but I got started on it and it just took a life of its own. Apparently my mind decided Tim was too devious for a straight forward fight over this with Bruce. And also too sentimental to not get caught up in the moment instead of reveling in his victory. Oh well, hope you like it!

~---~

The second Bruce told him that he planned to propose to Selina, a mischievous glimmer to his eyes, Tim came to an abrupt realization. He needed to beat him to the punch.

Tim knew for quite some time that Marinette was it for him. There was no maybes or ifs and buts. She was it. He loved her with everything he had and wanted to spend the rest of their lives together. He's known that since they began this relationship. Since she took a bullet for him and stood between him and his family.

Better yet, he knew the feeling was mutual. For once in his life he felt he could securely say that someone loved him unconditionally and would never abandon him no matter what came their way. No fake deaths. No lies for the others safety. No false promises. The two loved each other fully without waver.

It was only a matter of time before they decided to get the law involved and make their claims on each other known to the world.

The problem was that he knew they'd never hear the end of it if his adoptive father married her figurative cat mom. As unrelated as they obviously were and even with Selina only calling Mari her kitten in a motherly claim, the issue stood. The two marrying would lead to endless teasing over him dating his figurative sister. And Bruce obviously knew this.

That… was not something he was willing to deal with. So the race against the clock was on. Tim needed to propose to Mari and marry the woman of his dreams before Bruce could work up the nerve to ask Selina. And knowing Selina, she would be offended if Bruce piggybacked off Tim's proposal or took the spotlight off her kitten's moment or special day. So as long as he proposed first, they were in the clear.

It took very little time to set up. As horrific as buying a ring for a literal fashion powerhouse sounded, it actually made this easier. Marinette had always been forthcoming with her opinions on everything fashion related. He knew exactly what she did and didn't like from bands to stones and gems to cuts and sizing. Ordering the ring took more time then he felt comfortable with, but he refused to let timing get in the way of creating the perfect ring. Marinette was anything but traditional and straightforward and her ring deserved to reflect this.

Three silver bands twisted together intricately with moonstones and tiny diamonds peaking out between the folds. The bands themselves had softly engraved swirls stretching across them to give texture and movement. He already knew she would end up picking sunstones for his own band to contrast.

...

Waiting for the email to pick up the ring threw his anxiety through the roof, to the point his family took notice.

"Alright, I'll bite. What are you hyperfixating on so much? You didn't even bitch when I stole your drink," Jason spoke up next to him from where he leaned up against the counter. Tim glanced over towards the bedroom.

"She left an hour ago," Jason raised an eyebrow in disbelief, "something about fabric."

"I'm waiting for an email."

"And a notification won't cut it? Have to glare down your laptop instead?"

"When did you even get here?"

"You invited me for breakfast, ditz. I helped Mari make it? You even participated by cutting the fruits," Jason teased, though his eyes looked concerned.

"Oh.."

"So the email?"

"Mari's engagement ring should be finished today."

"No shit? That's great, babybird, you're making it official."

"It should be done by now."

Clapping a hand on his shoulder he offered a flippant, "It'll be done when it's done. Can't rush perfection."

Tim grumbled in response.

"You know she'll say yes."

"I know."

"Then what- wait. Didn't Bruce mention possibly proposing to Selina soon?"

Tim slanted his eyes up to his older brother, a smirk working its way up onto his mouth, "it'll be delayed for a while if I have my way."

Jason barked out a laugh, "Your little fox really rubbed off on you. You plan on hijacking his proposal, don't you?"

"You heard Selina, Mari is her kitten. Her only daughter."

"And her mother cat marrying our adoptive father wouldn't work too well for you," the grin on his brother's face grew wider.

"Precisely. So if we marry first, it'll be a matter of our in laws trying to marry each other. Making them the creepy ones."

"You devious little shit. Pixie know you're planning this?"

His face went blank staring off into the distance, prompting Jason to chuckle again.

"Is the pleasure of one upping Batman and Catwoman better than the surprise of being proposed to?"

"I'd tell her if I were you. She seems the type to be on board for this type of scheme, but thinking the proposal had nothing to do with anyone else then finding out it was to beat out your parents afterwards?" Jason rose an eyebrow at him, a deadpan look letting Tim connect his own dots.

"I'll tell Mari tonight."

"Smart bird."

"Tell me what?" Marinette asked, appearing through the front door with bags thrown over her shoulder.

"What have we said about fabric in the house?"

"That it doesn't belong here," she pouted, "I'll drop it off at the studio soon?"

He narrowed his eyes at her and she placed the bags by the door, moving up to him, "Promise?"

He huffed and dragged her into a hug, letting her go to hug Jason in turn. Tim's laptop chose this moment to light up with an email notice. Before he could fully turn around, she turned and peered over his shoulder in curiosity.

"Mon Amour?"

"Yes?"

"Is that?"

"It is."

She squealed in excitement, bouncing lightly in place until he turned so she could smother him in kisses. Suddenly pulling back, she perked up even more.

"What's it look like? Colors? Band type?"

"You'll find out," he smiled softly at her, wrapping his arms securely around her waist

Jason coughed to grab their attention, "Congratulations."

"Thank you!" She wiggled in place, pleased with this development.

"He's got something else to tell you."

"Oh?" She tilted back to her almost fiance. Fiance! This was so exciting!

"We're crashing Bruce's proposal."

"His… he's planning on proposing to Selina?"

"Soon, yes."

She stood there quietly for a moment, looking at him carefully before nodding, "okay."

"Okay?" Jason asked.

"Okay," she shrugged, "I made a bet with Selina that Tim would propose before Bruce would. Never told her we had already discussed marriage and knew it was inevitable unlike those two."

"You two were made for each other," Jason gave an exasperated groan as Tim laughed.

Glancing back at the email once more, she pulled Tim to her again, kissing him long and deep, thrilled with how soon their engagement was.

"Oh god. Alright, hold on, I'm leaving!" Jason grabbed his jacket and rushed towards the door. "Could you hold off for two fucking seconds?" he called as he caught a glimpse of Mari taking off Tim's shirt and slamming the door behind him.

She giggled against his lips as he pulled her flush against him, "should we celebrate?"

"Mmm."

…

The whole family had been invited over for Sunday night dinner at the Manor, including Selina. Knowing the older man and his desire to include the family in any large changes or decisions, Tim knew this was the night. Bruce planned to propose tonight. While Mari and him had practically become engaged weeks before with his buying of the ring, he hadn't technically proposed or made it family knowledge yet. No one but Jason knew Tim planned to beat the man to the punch and decided to come to dinner for once just to watch the show.

He dressed slightly better than his usual hoodie and ragged jeans in preparation, pulling on a soft gray cowl necked sweater, the neckline crossing down in the front with a shark tooth closure. Black fitted jeans and boots completed the look. Marinette would appreciate him wearing something she made for him.

Speaking of, she wore a light blue swishy cardigan over a gray top with black jeans and blue lace up booties, having partially coordinated to his own on purpose.

As the dinner started, food being passed around and the family antics starting up around them, Tim felt a touch of anxiety slip through him only to settle as Mari wrapped her fingers around his, squeezing gently in reassurance. Taking a deep breath, he settled in, noticing a similar tension in Bruce's stance, only no relief came to the man as the courses continued. He had calculated that Bruce would attempt to propose right after dessert was being cleared. Right when family announcements usually began. Tim would propose right after dessert was placed, just close enough to Bruce's to make the man feel cut off, but early enough that dessert could feel celebratory. Which worked perfectly considering he asked Alfred to make pain au chocolats since Marinette never got to enjoy properly made ones anymore. Sure, the pastry didn't quite fit the occasion, but she would appreciate it and that was all cared about.

Alfred came out with dessert and passed it around, squeezing Tim's shoulder gently as he passed and sat beside Jason, wanting to watch his grandson's engagement. Taking a deep breath, he squeezed Marinette's hand softly and lifted from his seat, pushing it back and out of the way to kneel in front of her.

"Ma loutine-"

"Yes!"

"Let me finish," he almost giggled, smile lighting up his face, "My love, you're the most intelligent, ruthless, beautiful person I have ever met. In all the time I've known you, you have been so amazingly considerate and patient with me. Whether it be because I took too long to seek you out or stop your bad habits from taking over to when you return the favor by dragging my idiotic self back home from a work binge or help me with my work when I get caught up in my head. I think back on that night you stumbled into the kitchen and dragged me into the living room at 3 in the morning to watch stupid vines with you as the most wonderful start to anything in my life. And that's exactly what that was, only a start of our time together. I can't fathom the idea of ever parting from you, Ma lutine. So here, in front of the insane, batshit crazy family you'd have to agree to becoming part, which I'm really starting to regret reminding you of, I'm asking you please. Will you marry me?"

She leaned down, tears glittering ever so gently in the corners of her eyes to press a sweet kiss to his lips, whispering, "Yes."

He pressed up into her, pulling the ring out of the box he'd yet to open and slipping it onto her finger before pulling away and smiling widely to his family, "She said yes," he giddily informed to the sound of his family's cheers, excitement and joy bursting through his chest despite knowing she would. It still felt like a revelation to know he got to marry her. It was then she exclaimed, having finally looked down at her ring. She pushed into his lap, regaining his full attention to wrap him up in a hug, "I love it! It's so perfect, Tim, how did you even get this?" She marveled.

"Well show us," Stephanie demanded, Selina beside her, looking over curiously.

Twisting around, she showed off the ring to the two, Cass whistling in appreciation next to them.

"Well done, Tim. Knew you were a perfectionist, but it surely shines through with your choice," Selina complimented, slipping a few bills into Marinette's hands discretely.

"That was quite a proposal, Tim. Congratulations to the both of you," Bruce offered, a strained smile on his face, not able to hold a grudge against the two with how excited and genuinely happy they looked. After all, it's not like he ever told Tim exactly when he would propose to Selina and he couldn't exactly wait around for Bruce to figure it out.

For now, he'd have to be happy for them and pray Selina didn't bite his head off for letting two of his sons marry before popping the question himself.

#timinette #timari #ml x dc #Snippet #saturdays alright #may not of participated in Timari week #but hey I wrote something for the pair right?#maribat

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rons-hermiones · 3 years

Text

Come Find Me

by rons-hermiones

Summary: Unplanned, Hermione is forced to spend Christmas at the Burrow due to her grandmother falling very ill. After being ignored by Hermione for weeks, Ron is determined to show her how much she means to him. Just before he gets the chance to tell her, Bellatrix Lestrange shows up with other plans for Hermione. Can Ron get to her before it's too late? (Ron/Hermione Half-Blood Prince AU)

Rating: M for language & dark themes in later chapters.

Chapter Thirty One

“They’re dead.” Neville tells Harry, voice riddled with fear and sadness.

Any pretenses of worrying about waking Ron fly out the window, “Dead? Who's dead? What is that?” He fires off, noticing the parchment in his hand.

“Hediwg, she came, I’m sorry Harry, I shouldn’t have opened it. You and Ron were gone and I thought maybe it was about Brimblehawk. It was marked urgent I just-”

“Neville, who is it?” He steps closer, his eyes already glossed over.

“I-I’m sorry. Maybe if we h-had-” he starts emotionally.

Harry grips his shoulders and shakes him, “please.” he begs.

“The Granger’s. They’re dead.”

At the words Harry falls to the floor, taking Neville with him.

He didn’t know Hugo and Jean Granger very well, but these were Hermione’s parents. They gave him his best friend. And if she ever came back nothing, nothing, would ever be the same.

“Oh Merlin. No!” He cried out, “We should’ve done more.” He whimpered, clutching onto Neville for dear life.

Tears were now streaking Neville’s cheeks as well, “I know Harry, I know.” He cried.

They stayed like that for a while on the floor. Eventually, Harry calmed enough to ask about the letter Hedwig brought that held the news.

“Bill sent it. It didn’t say much, just that they were dead and that he’d be here in the morning.” He explained, holding up the parchment. It was indeed only two sentences long, “It was five when I heard the owl, I reckon he’ll be around soon. Do his parents know about…” Neville trailed, eyeing the bed.

The Chosen One sniffled before wiping his nose with his sleeve, “He’s seventeen now so he gets to decide if his parents know or not. Since he wasn’t exactly, you know, conscious, I owled them for him. He’d want them to know. I used Madam Pomfrey’s owl. I doubt it's as fast as Hedwig’s but it should’ve reached Devon by now.” Harry answers.

Finally collecting himself a bit more, Harry stands up, hovering over Ron’s sleeping form.

“He’ll lose it.” He whispered after a few minutes of silence.

Neville soon joined his side, “I know.”

“He’ll blame himself. If he sees Hermione again, he’ll tell her it was his fault. It’s not.” Harry says, voice becoming more strangled.

“I know that. We all do. Hermione will too.” He responds, gripping the dark haired boy's shoulder and giving him a squeeze.

“Dumbledore must know by now, he’s got to.” Potter said surely, turning to face Neville under his grasp.

Neville shrugged, “I’d assume, but what difference does it make?” He said weakly.

“I wanna know how. And I wanna know who.” He said with a fire in his eyes.

The other boy could sense as much and made a move to ease him. The last thing anyone needed was a raging Harry and a raging Ron. “There’s something else.” Neville whispered.

At his words, Harry instantly softened, sensing the seriousness in his tone.

He braced himself for what was to come next.

“It wasn’t really Hediwg that woke me up.” At this Harry’s eyes squinted in confusion as Neville sighed, “Fred and Geroge’s owl, it was the one pecking at the window. They talked to Brimblehawk, they know where that place is, with the chandelier.”

“W-what?” He breathed, never did he think their plan would ever amount to anything, but he hoped it would. More than anything.

“Harry, when Bill comes today we need to tell him what we know. I know before you and Ron didn’t want to start anything or were scared they’d move her, but I reckon it's now or never.” He pauses, “no matter what happens next, nothing will ever be the same.”

Slowly, but surely, Harry nodded in agreement. The Grangers were gone. It felt like the worst had happened, but he knew deep down, there was potential for worse.

Who would be next? A Weasley? Neville? Lupin? Hermione herself?

No.

No. Harry was through playing this waiting game. It was time Hermione came home, or what’s left of it anyway.

“Harry?” Neville broke his daze.

“You’re right.” He confirmed, “I just hope Ron’s awake to help. I want Hermione back more than I think I’ve ever wanted anything, but Ron, it’s like-it’s like it's killing him.” The Boy-Who-Lived whispered.

“We’ll get her back, Harry. We need her.”

At this very moment Ron groaned in his sleep, head falling to his other shoulder. Instantly, Harry felt the need to pull the blanket around his best mate tighter. Let him feel protected from the real world for just a little bit longer.

“You need to come back soon Ron.” Harry whispered low enough that Neville wouldn’t hear.

He felt Neville’s eyes burning into his back as he watched the scene. Stepping away, Harry swallowed the lump in his throat, “you never told me where she is.” He says, voice cracking, “Hermione.” He adds.

“Wiltshire.” He responds, “A place called Malfoy Manor.”

Harry’s entire body erupts with chills.

...

It wasn’t until two hours later, around seven in the morning, that Ron began to regain consciousness.

He opened his blue eyes, doing his best to adjust to the harsh light in the room.

Everything around him was a blur, he moved his hand to rub at his eyes, but found it to be very weak. After blinking a few times, it seemed to do the trick as the world became clearer.

This was not his dormitory.

Why the fuck was he in the hospital wing?

“Merlin, you’re alright.” He heard Harry breathe from nearby, though he sounded underwater.

Suddenly, everything came back to him like a rush of cold water flooding his veins.

Birthday. Chocolate Cauldrons. Romilda Bloody Vane. Slughorn. Meade. Hermione…

“M fine.” He croaks, trying to sit up.

Harry gently pushes his shoulders down, “I wouldn’t do that. Neville’s gone to get Madame Pomfrey to give you some potions that’ll sort you out. Though, I imagine she’ll be livid, we aren’t supposed to be here this early.”

It’s true. Madam Pomfrey shooed him away last night, but he simply returned to his dorm, nicked his invisibility cloak, and came back.

Neville’s presence was a bit harder to explain.

“Since you’re technically of age, your parents didn’t have to be informed, but I owled them last night. They’ll be along soon with Bill, I reckon.” He let’s slip.

Ron could sense his best mates unease. Not only that, but why the hell would Bill be popping in if his Mum and Dad were? Something was a little off.

“Bill?” He questioned.

Harry’s mouth flopped open and closed like a fish’s would, before Madame Pomfrey came to the rescue.

Well, sort of.

“Mr. Potter! Visiting hours do not begin until eight o’clock! You and Mr. Longbottom will be dealt with accordingly after I sort out my patient here! Little regard for following rules. Just like your fathers.” She tutted the last sentence under her breath as she moved to Ron’s side, leaving a blushing Neville in her wake.

The matron picked up a glass vile and slowly tipped the thick potion past Ron’s lips.

“Now Mr. Weasley, the bezoar seemed to do wonders for you. Most of the poison has been flushed from your system, but there are still trace amounts present. You’ll be on a few potions the next few days to get you fit as a fiddle. You may feel tired or get aches, but any symptoms besides those you must alert me, understand?”

Ron just nodded in response, swallowing the terrible tasting liquid as she spoke.

“Now how is your knee?” She asked next.

He thought about it for a moment, but any pain within that region didn’t register, “My knee?” He questioned.

Harry shifted uncomfortably at Ron’s ignorance, as Neville flushed a bit, seeming to have realized where this was going.

Madame Pomfrey nodded, “yes you’ve been whining about it since last night. I did a full body scan and there’s no internal injuries to it, maybe just sore?” She thought aloud.

“My knee.” He repeated to himself, now understanding that he was not groaning about a pain in his leg, but rather, his Mione.

“Oh, uh,” he began nervously, but cleared his throat, “yes, it’s feeling better now, thank you.” Ron said quickly, red as his hair and avoiding both of his friends' eyes.

“Excellent. You rest.” She then turned to look over Harry and Neville for a few moments, both squirmed under her gaze. “I’ll allow Misters Potter and Longbotton to stay. The headmaster was quite insistent that Mr. Potter be present for when your family arrives.”

“Harry?” Ron said aloud, again, getting the feeling something bigger was going on.

The nurse nodded, “yes. I’ve been told your parents and brothers will be joining us too. I know how the twins can be, but you must remain on bed rest, do not work yourself up.” She reiterated.

“The twins?” Now he was really confused. He’s almost positive his Mum wouldn’t allow the two of them to see him in this state if she knew how well, weak, he was. Ron didn’t need any added troubles.

“That’s what I said Mr. Weasley. Someone will also be waking your sister soon I’m sure. I’ve been told William will also be joining at Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore’s insistence.”

“Did they say why?” He asked next, knowing he wouldn’t get anywhere with Harry, but maybe Madam Pomfrey knew differently.

“No, but I’m sure your family is just concerned. The Weasley’s have always been a tight bunch.”

And that’s true! But ever since everything happened during Christmas holiday, Mum, like Dumbledore, has been very adamant that no one draw any attention. To carry on as they were.

Surely over half of the Weasley clan coming to Hogwarts to speak with Dumbledore would draw suspicions.

And right under Snape and Malfoys nose, no less.

“Now I must go finish filing your report for the archives. I’ll be back soon with your hourly potion.” She walked to her office before stopping, “stay put.” Madame Pomfrey warned.

Once she disappeared, Ron was given a second to take in Neville and Harry. Both had bloodshot eyes. Harry was biting the edge of his nails as Neville twisted a piece of parchment in his shaking hands.

Ron was awake, he was okay, so what were they so worked up for?

“There’s something else.” He whispered, but the pair heard.

“Ron-“ Harry began.

Before he could finish, the hospital wing doors flew open, revealing a mass of red hair, along with Dumbledore and McGonagall not far behind.

“Ronnie!” His Mum cried out, racing over to his bed and giving him a hug.

He did his best to respond, but found his limbs feeling heavy, “I’m okay Mum.” He whispered.

Over her shoulder, he didn’t fail to notice the crowd that came in. And any doubts that something bigger was going on was all but confirmed by the looks on their faces.

Sure, they were all relieved Ron was alright, but they were not jumping for joy like he suspected.

Like his Mum, Ginny was crying. Something he hasn’t seen her do in years, save for Christmas.

Bill was anxiously shifting his weight between his feet, something he got scolded for when he was younger as a nervous habit.

His father looked solemn. They exchanged a brief nod, but Arthur couldn’t bring himself to smile at his son. Not when he’d have to break his heart all over again.

The twins weren’t laughing. They weren’t smiling. They weren’t joking. They were stiff, serious, stoic, three words he would never associate with them.

McGonagall herself looked a little misty eyed as she fiddled with her robes’ sleeves.

Dumbledore also had an indescribable air of sadness around him. Ron couldn’t put it into words, he could feel it.

“It’s Hermione, isn't it.” He spoke to the room. He just knew.

They all exchanged nervous glances, no one knew what to say.

“Not exactly.” Dumbledore answered, stepping through the Weasley’s to be right at Ron’s bedside. “I’m glad to see you well Ronald.”

He couldn’t help but scoff, “cheers.”

“Ronald Billius! You ought to treat Albus with respect. We are all very happy you are alright, you should be too!” His Mum called from his fathers embrace.

“I am.” He said softer, “but that doesn’t mean I need to be treated like a kid. I feel fine. A little tired, but I am fine. So someone now please tell me what in the bloody hell is going on.” He grunted.

Molly again made a move to scold her son, but Dumbledore dismissed her with a wave of his hand.

“Can’t put anything past you can we Ronald? That’s an Auror’s trait if I’ve ever come to know one.” He commented, almost like he knew that was Ron’s dream.

Well, he probably did know somehow. This was after all Albus Dumbledore.

“Uh thanks.” The ginger said a little impatiently. On any other day he might’ve flushed at the compliment and thanked his headmaster. Right now, he couldn’t bring himself to.

Harry can’t let this go on any longer. He just physically cannot allow another moment to pass with Ron laying there, the truth just within arms reach.

“The Grangers are dead.” He said it quickly and lowly.

Though everyone, save for Ron, knew the news, all eyes still snapped to Harry in awe at his bluntness.

Ron made a move to sit up and this time no one made a move to stop him. They simply watched as his eyes widened in a painstaking state of shock.

“No.” Was all he managed. He couldn’t believe it.

“Son, I’m so sorry-“ Arthur began, stepping forward.

“You promised.” He gritted to his father.

“Ron-“ the old man protested.

“You promised!” He yelled, voice so riddled with anguish. “You said someone went. That they put up wards.”

“They did son, I promise you. Someone from The Order was sent, but I’m afraid the wards weren’t casted by someone with Dumbledore’s caliber of magic. They didn’t stand a chance against her.” Mr. Weasley explained, voice almost as strained as his sons.

“S-she?” He didn’t realize he was crying until he felt a tear drop land on his knuckles.

“We can’t be positive, but the work matches-“

“Bellatrix.” Ron spat angrily.

He didn’t need to see his father nod in confirmation to know he was right.

“This isn’t right. None of this is right. She needs to answer for what she’s done to Hermione, to her parents!” His voice was rising again. Anger was easier than the guilt pounding its way into his chest.

“It’s not that easy Ron, if it were-“ This time it was Bill who spoke.

“I don’t give a bloody fuck what’s easy and what’s not! This is Hermione we’re talking about, that-that was her family. So when she comes home, she won’t even have a home to get back to! You do realize how fucking preventable this entire thing was? So far The Order has been nothing but fuck up.” He seethed.

“I understand you’re upset Ronnie, but you know we’re doing all that can be done.” Molly interjected softly.

“No you’re not!” He protested.

“Oh yeah? And what have you been doing? Beating up Cormac McLaggen? Getting yourself poisoned?” Bill retorted, not liking his brother's attitude, pain or not.

“William!” His Mum scolded.

Ron ignored him, “you can bet your arse I’ve been doing a lot more than planning a fucking wedding!”

This seemed to set Bill off, “don’t get pissy with me just because I have Fleur and Hermione is-“

Whatever he was going to say, no one would ever come to find out.

Ron summoned all his strength and latched roughly onto one of his eldest brother's wrists. Enough to surely bruise.

“Don’t you dare finish whatever the hell you’re about to say.”

At this Bill relented, he knew he was out of line, but letting emotions get the better of you surely was a Weasley trait.

“He is right Bill.” Fred broke from his place in the corner.

Ron’s brow scrunched in confusion at his brother's words, but his curiosity only grew as he watched Fred and Harry exchange a nod.

“What?” Bill voices exactly what Ron’s thinking.

“I reckon Harry, Ronnie, and Neville have done more than The Order has.” Fred then turns ro McGonagall and Dumbledore, “no offense.”

“Mr. Weasley, need I remind you that certain things are not to be brought up in the presence of others?” McGonagall scathes, eyes flicking to Neville.

“He knows Professor.” Harry states.

“Mr. Potter-“

“I didn’t tell him. He figured it out.”

At this, the old woman looked relieved and maybe even a little proud.

“He’s Hermione’s friend too.” Ron added, certainly more calm then the last time he spoke.

“Plus, according to a letter Fred and I received a few days ago, without Neville’s help we wouldn’t know where Hermione is.” George told the room.

At this everyone grew shocked, no one more so than Ron.

“I-it worked?” He stuttered, not able to believe it himself.

“We have the closest apparition point here.” Fred pulled out a piece of parchment from his pocket before handing it off to Dumbledore.

He eyed it for a moment before realization struck, “Wiltshire?” Ron swears he hears fear in his tone.

“I’m afraid I’ll need to be filled in.” McGonagall spoke up.

“You and I both Minerva.” The old man agreed, though his voice faltered the slightest.

“I think I’m the reason Hermione’s parents are dead.” Harry piped up.

“Harry, no.” Ron shook his head, pushing himself upright.

“He-he told her that someone would die if she spoke to me again and…” he trailed, feeling a bile rise in his throat.

“You spoke to Hermione?” Ginny questioned.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you Professor, I just thought- we just-” Harry was growing hysterical.

“Calm yourself Harry, you can ease my mind by explaining what instance you are referring to.” He encouraged, voice soft.

Slowly, the Chosen One nodded, “that-that night she was taken, I collapsed, do you remember?” He asked to no one in particular, yet everyone nodded. “Well it happened again, the same night. It was him and he h-had Hermione.” He took a deep breath, “she s-spoke to me through him, it made him mad, r-really mad. He told her if she did it again someone would, someone would d-die.” Like Ron, tears found their way down his cheeks.

“I don’t follow Mr. Potter. If this all happened at Christmas then why would he wait?” McGonagall couldn’t help but question.

“Because it happened again. A few days ago.”

A few gasps echoed in the empty wing.

“Even before everything, I had my suspicions about Draco Malfoy.” He eyed Dumbledore carefully as he said this, but the old man showed little emotion. “Hermione and Ron thought I was barmy, but then Ron started seeing it too.”

All eyes soon fell on the bed ridden boy, silently demanding an explanation.

“Mr. Weasley?” Albus encouraged.

“It started on the train I reckon, Malfoy, he well bumped into me and apologized. He seemed, I dunno- sorry? But for a lot more than that.” Knowing this wasn't a satisfying explanation he continued, “then he told Katie Bell Hermione was away for a family emergency so she couldn’t fulfill her prefect duties and there was just no way he’d know she was gone. We weren’t even at Hogwarts when he said it.”

“I see.” Dumbledore said, pursing his lips.

Ron continued anyway, “Then I had these dreams, really bizarre dreams about Malfoy telling me he knew where they were keeping Hermione. It sounds mental, but I just knew there was something more to it.”

Harry jumped back in, “When Hermione was able to get through to me, the only thing she said was ‘Malfoy’, that’s when I knew it was more.” The dark haired boy ignored all the astound faces and pressed on, “so we broke into his dorm.” He admitted, eyeing his professors cautiously.

Thankfully, neither had the heart to scold him at the moment, both too invested in the story. The twins even took a moment to exchange a small smirk.

“In his room we found a picture. The picture had the same chandelier I saw on Christmas when I first felt him with Hermione.” Harry finished.

“And I recognized the picture from being in The Prophet and Neville, he recognized the photographer's name.” Ron supplied weakly.

All eyes then turned to the third boy, “Balthasar Bartolo Brimblehawk. He was a big-“

“Wartime photographer.” Bill breathed from his spot.

Neville nodded, “yeah and he’s got a place in Diagon Alley.” Next all eyes fell on the twins.

George cleared his throat, eyes locking with Ron, knowing his brother was unconscious when their owl arrived. “Didn’t want to talk to us, not at first anyway. We told him we were sent from The Order and he seemed interested, but not enough to let us in.”

“Then we told him it was a favor for Augusta Longbottom’s grandson and that’s when he cracked.” Fred jumped in.

“Don’t tell me you-“ McGonagall began, clearly ready to chasistize the boys for disclosing private information.

“No.” Fred promised, knowing where she was going, “the second we picked up the photo and asked where it was he wrote it for us. No questions asked.”

“I reckon he knows exactly what goes down there.” George gulped.

The room fell silent for a moment until the crinkling of parchment cracked it.

“So this is where Miss Granger is?” Dumbledore asked, holding up the offending piece.

Harry shrugged, “makes the most sense.”

“Why hadn’t anyone thought of them earlier?” Ron’s cracked voice asked.

“Estates like the Malfoy’s and the Lestrange’s are some of the wizarding world’s best kept secrets. Furthermore, we had no reason to suspect the Malfoy’s involvement, not with this anyway. Sources said they had much bigger things going on.” Dumbledore said cryptially, not willing to reveal what Severus told him at the start of term.

And thankfully, no one questioned it, too focused on Hermione.

“What now?” Bill asked.

Everyone turned to the headmaster, knowing he was the one to call the shots. However, the old man's attention was fully on Ron.

“I believe that Miss Granger has been departed from us for far too long.” Albus watched as the bed ridden ginger’s eyes glossed over. He then turned to Ginny, “Miss Wealsey, why don’t you and Mr. Longbottom make way to the Great Hall for breakfast. Bring some back for Mr. Potter too.” He suggested.

Though they both wanted to fight to stay, they complied, knowing Dumbledore knew what he was doing, “alright. We’ll be back soon.” Ginny said, pulling Neville with her.

“As for the rest of you Weasley’s, please join me in my office. I do believe we have a great deal of planning ahead of us, yes?” At his words, Molly let tears streak her cheeks as she let Arthur guide her to the door.

“Minerva, please summon The Order, we shall meet tonight.” Dumbledore said as she too vacated the room.

Leaving just Harry, Ron, and the old professor, he turned to the bed, “I hope the next time we see each other I can offer you more than just my condolences. Please rest Ronald.”

With that, he exited the wing as his robes billowed behind him.

Weakly, Ron attempted to call out but failed. Part of him was overwhelmed and frustrated at not being involved in the planning. This was Hermione after all.

Another part wanted to sob in relief at the prospect of her coming back to him. Not willing to let himself dwell on her condition.

However, he could do neither. Not when his stomach was churning terribly as the news of the Grangers death began to settle with him.

“I promised them.” Is all he said, round, watery eyes finding Harry’s.

The dark haired boy knew he was on the verge of hysterics.

“I promised her parents they’d see her again. How am I ever going to-“ he allowed himself to collapse onto his best mate.

Harry held Ron tightly. Assuring him it wasn’t his fault as he felt his body shake with sobs.

And maybe from the emotional drain or maybe from the after effects of his poisoning, exhaustion took over as he fell asleep, still in Harry’s embrace.

It wasn’t until Ron’s breathing evened out did the Boy-Who-Lived spoke, “and I promise you, we will bring Hermione home.”

#Ron Weasley #Ron and Hermione #ron x hermione #rons-hermiones come find me #Hermione Granger #romione fanfic #romione #sixth year #hp fanfic #hp

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hasegawasosise · 4 years

Text

In Numbers We Trust

Summary:

Prompt master: @outoftheframework

I like the concept of each of the kids having a number or having a thing where they count off. Not in a demeaning or dehumanizing way at all, just more so to use in dangerous situations. For example, a bomb goes off on patrol, and to quickly see if everyone is okay, the kids (including Steph and Babs) automatically start counting one at a time. Bruce can breathe again once the count reaches eight. This tradition begins to carry over to civilian life when the kids yell numbers across a crowded gala after the power goes out.

Beta Agenthandler

Bruce never planned on starting a family. He made a vow to live for justice. He would be the force Gotham needed. He would be the forever bachelor. Justice was his Lady Love.

But 90% of life’s plan was just that—a plan. Bruce would never have guessed he'd end up taking in a boy who called himself Dick Grayson. Technically his ward, but Bruce suffered a mid-life crisis every day from thereon, wondering whether it was the right choice for him to adopt a kid—or why anyone sane would let Bruce Wayne adopt any kid in the first place. It was a testament to Dick’s own awesomeness that he grew up to be a mostly functional adult—Bruce definitely wasn’t.

After Dick, he recruited an amazing girl named Barbara Gordon as another sidekick. She was not officially his adopted daughter, but by day two of working together Bruce registered her in his little hind brain as “my kid.”

Then another. Jason Todd not only stole the Batmobile’s tires but also Batman’s heart. The little boy taught Bruce more about street-smarts and how to be a better person right until his death. His realized depth of parental love made him wonder why he ever adopted anyone in the first place—and ended up losing them that way.

After what he thought was the last, another one came into his life without invitation. Timothy Drake was a genius detective. Out of his first four—yes, Bruce could still count—Tim was the most similar to Bruce. They had the same kind of upbringing amidst the Gotham Elite, they were both highly focused and detail oriented individuals. Tim was even smarter than Bruce, and he was the sole reason Bruce could continue functioning after Jason’s death. Tim was also the only one to believe he was still alive and brought Bruce back from when he was lost in time.

After Time was Stephanie Brown. A cheerful ray of sunshine that had her own worries, but could function the best out of all his children. She had the kind of light sarcastic humor to brighten up Bruce’s darker days. He gained a third daughter, Cassandra Cain, the most accomplished amongst his children in terms of stealth and combat, also his one darling princess.

Then Bruce was introduced to his—one and only—blood son, a little baby assassin who had the unfortunate tendency to stab first ask later. By this time, Bruce had a better handle on raising children highly susceptible to raising hell and violence (read: still an incompetent parent, but he knew how to tune out their nagging) and had no choice but to assign Dick with Damian’s education on humanities and socialization.

He also had Helena, Terry, Matt, Duke, and Harper.

Bruce lost count.

It was the ultimate testament to Bruce’s parenting skill. He sometimes couldn’t remember how many kids he had. He could lose them in a Walmart and forget he was missing one. But thankfully, he had a secret weapon.

Since Jason, he assigned them all numbers. Dick was one, Barbara was two, Jason three, Timothy four, Stephanie five, Cass six, Damian seven—although he always said he was the first—Duke was eight, Harper nine, Terry ten, Matt eleven, and little Helena was twelve.

Imagine that. Bruce had twelve kids. What was his vow again? Lady Love Justice? Don’t know her.

It became sort of a tradition. When the kids entered the Wayne manor, each of them wrote their number on the info board down in the changing room. They were also listed on a desktop note of the BatComputer. It became a ritual in which the last child would add their newest sibling into the list, so they knew who the next number was supposed to be, and that next child would be who they were responsible for. Well, except Dick who accepted all of them as his baby chicks. The number also became a little part of their identity—each of them would put their numbers on everything they owned from their doors to their batarangs to the containers in the fridge.

Bruce, most importantly, used the numbering system to check in on them. It started when Penguin detonated a bank and his robins were scattered fighting all the hundred thugs Penguin hired to keep Batman busy. The blast stopped the fight and Bruce’s heart dropped when he realized his coms were damaged and he immediately couldn’t keep sight of them. He immediately tried to think what he could do, and when he did, he shouted at the top of his lungs.

“KID COUNT!”

“One!” Nightwing shouted from the top of the next building. Apparently he flew off the bank’s roof when he realised it was going to burst.

Oracle was two but he knew she was safe in the clock tower.

“Three,” Red Hood drawled. Bruce wondered why he joined in, but was thankful nonetheless.

“Four,” Red Robin shouted from the opposite direction, because he was the sensible one who directed the civilians and police to safety.

“Five!” Spoiler laughed and flew to his side. “That was a doozy!”

“Six,” Black Bat said as she appeared beside Spoiler where they shared a hi-five.

“Seven,” Robin pulled out his swords from a thug’s leg. “Father, I need to clean my sword immediately.”

“No stabbing, please.” “Too late.” Bruce groaned.

“...Eight?” Signal. He was still new to the numbering system.

Batman let go a deep relieved sigh.

The police and civilians who were fortunate to witness the scene, collectively said ‘Oh’. It became a trending twitter before Tim deleted the topic as much as he could.

********

The counting continued though. Citizens who have lots of children (such as parents, teachers, sometimes even the Police teams), realised it was a quick method to ensure update of their progeny/students/teams condition. So they The counting became sort of a Gotham Trend and eventually enlisted into Gotham’s Emergency SOP. Imagine that, having too many kids to count gave birth to a crucial disaster first-aid first responder procedure.

In all actually, maybe that was one of the top major contributions Batman has given to his city.

********

The kids themselves slowly embraced the importance and fun of the numbers. It created a sort of camaraderie-- even when the numbers didn’t correlate with their height. It used to be a nice isoquant curve when they stood side by side. But after Jason’s growth spurt and Tim naught growth spurt, Steph finding high heels and Cass love for Anti-flood Boots, the nice isoquant curve just became a jagged line not unlike a heartbeat rate.

That aside, the numbering also slowly bled into their civilian lives:

All of them counted before they entered the GothMart -- Alfred was there too, and suddenly Bruce became number 0. He was there to help Alfred because herding the kids was a massive job.

Dick was back for the weekend to spend time with his “babies” and refused to stay at home, because he wanted to sneak in his grocery list (gummy bears and cereals) into Bruce’s list so he could bring it back to Bludhaven and not spend a dime on it.

Jason was there because Alfred asked him for help--he was the only one out of the brood with cooking talent and generally all responsible in the kitchen, i.e. Alfred could trust Jason to use his kitchen without blowing it up (shoutout to Tim and Duke who blew the kitchen for the fifth time this year).

Barbara stayed at home, watching over their base, but she was ready with her surveillance just in case they lost one of the broods.

Tim was half dragged, because he had spent the last 30 hours awake doing Bruce-knew-what, and only agreed to be dragged with the promise of sweet, abominable GothMart coffee with pink glitter (a cheap imitation of Starbucks, really) because Tim was fabulous especially after thirty hours of no sleep. And the surprisingly awesome coffee was a dollar--what kind of frugal millionaire didn’t appreciate a dollar of drinkable coffee?

Steph was the one who dragged Tim, with the help of Cass who just returned from Hong Kong for the weekend. Steph wanted to buy some new bras for Cass, something cool and sexy she could enjoy immensely. Bruce was not privy in this knowledge.

Damian was there to ensure his embarrassment of siblings didn’t kill themselves or humiliate the family. Wayne was his legacy afterall, and all of them reflected on his legacy, whether he liked it or not. Duke, the only one whom he could tolerate outside Cassandra (Grayson was mother) just poked his cheek and grinned. Duke might be tolerable, but it didn’t mean Damian didn’t want to stab him sometimes (Drake, on the other hand, looked like a nice pincushion to stab his sword into).

They counted 0 to 8 before they entered, orchestrated by Alfred.

When they were ready for the checkout, 4, 5, and 6 were missing. Bruce finally found them at the children section, where Tim was busy defending his virginity from a Superboy Plushie, while Steph convulsed with laughter on the floor and Cass video-ed the entire thing.

Bruce refused to buy the cereals (Dick) / sexy lingerie (nope, nope, nope) / kitchen knife collection in black (Damian, as they didn’t need another stabby collection). But Bruce ended up buying the superboy plushie because it had been tainted (the store manager glared at him the whole check out time). At least Tim looked ashamed enough when he was handed the superboy plushie.

The gala was in full swing, full of important people and not-so important moochies. Bruce was entertaining a group of usual donors (important and fun people!) while he saw Tim seriously discussing the stock exchange trends with several old, serious men. Dick was charming the usual group of ladies and young men, while Cass seemed to be hiding behind the potted plan.

Then, just like usual in Gotham, the lights went off. The room suddenly became dark and people started to scream.

“KID COUNT!” Bruce shouted. “Zero,” he added because of habit.

“One!” “Three!” “Four!” “Five and Six!” “Seven.” “Eight” “Nine.”

Wait, did he bring Harper with him? Harper was allergic to this kind of gala--and that was why he never fully adopted her into his Wayne name.

Oh well. The more number he got, the better.

Justice Lady love who?

#bat family #batman #bruce being a good dad #bruce is a bad dad #bruce is a bat dad #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #timothy drake #damian wayne #cass Wayne #harper #barbara gordon #prompt by @outoftheframework #prompt fill #numbering system #Alfred is the leader #bruce is one of the kids too

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