#Skye wasn’t brave enough so i had to do it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

carewyncromwell · 3 years ago

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7, 15 and 28 for Carion.

Oh gosh! Three prompts! XD; This might take a bit (and require a cut).

"You look like you need a hug"

The Slytherin-Gryffindor match was, as to be expected, hotly anticipated. Although both Gryffindor and Slytherin’s Slytherin’s main rival Quidditch-wise was Ravenclaw, due to them being the reigning Quidditch Cup champions, the houses of red and gold and green and silver had been antagonistic in just about everything for years, so it was unsurprising that fans got a bit riled-up in support of their favorite team. Gryffindor had beaten Slytherin to the Quidditch Cup Final the previous year when Charlie Weasley -- their Star Seeker -- completely cancelled out all of the work Slytherin’s skilled Chasers put in by catching the Snitch a mere fifteen minutes into the match. And in this most recent match, despite Slytherin’s best efforts, Gryffindor did it again -- despite Slytherin’s Beaters actively taking a leaf out of Ravenclaw Beater Erika Rath’s book and trying to halt Charlie from catching the Snitch long enough for Slytherin to catch it instead, Charlie was too quick for them and caught the Snitch, giving Gryffindor the victory with an over 100-point margin.

The Slytherin team was very disheartened by the loss, but their captain Orion Amari remained resilient.

“Failure can, in some ways, teach us just as much as success can,” he counseled his team after the match. “This loss is...unfortuitous, yes -- but endings are only ever endings if we neglect to also see them as beginnings. Let us take the time to look inward and strengthen our bonds, so that we may fly higher and farther in the future.”

The Slytherin team wasn’t completely comforted as they left, but they tried to hold their heads up high as they left the tent one by one. As they left through the flap, they noticed a ginger-haired, blue-eyed fourth year waiting beside the tent, her arms crossed and her eyes drifting off as if she was waiting. Most of the team recognized her as “Cursebreaker Cromwell” -- the only one of them who knew her just as Carewyn, Skye Parkin, held the fourth year’s gaze for a long, tense moment before uncomfortably walking off without exchanging a word with her.

Orion left the tent long after the rest of the team had gone. He’d been meditating for the last hour, trying to settle his own emotions in response to their devastating loss. He didn’t need to hear the stats from McNully to know that Slytherin would have no way to reach the Quidditch Final now -- he had to accept that and move on, if he was going to lead the team forward...

His gaze had been downcast toward the grass when he heard a shuffle of someone in the grass to his right. He looked up, to see that Carewyn had approached him.

“...Hi, Orion,” she said gently.

Orion gave her his best, mild smile. “Hello, Carewyn Cromwell.”

There was a silence. Carewyn’s blue eyes ran over Orion’s placid face for a moment, almost analyzing it. Then, taking a step forward, she extended her arms to him.

Orion blinked.

“Come here,” said Carewyn. “You look like you need a hug.”

Orion glanced down at her arms and then up at her face blankly.

“...Do I?” he said mildly.

“Yes.” Her answer was firm.

Carewyn’s eyes had drifted down to his shoulder, her expression gaining a prouder, slightly haughty affect as she sighed, took a step forward, brought her extended arms around his chest, and gave him a hug.

Orion stiffened ever-so-slightly, unsure of what to make of the gesture at first, since he was rather unused to hugs.

“I can tell you’re trying to act brave for everyone else,” said Carewyn lowly, “but I know you’re upset, Orion. You have every right to be, after you worked so hard...”

The Slytherin Quidditch Captain glanced at Carewyn out of the side of his eye. Something in his black eyes seemed to soften as they grew a little smaller, considering her -- then, slowly, he closed his eyes, bowed his head, and let her hug him.

“I feel like some tiny salmon being pushed through an open ocean rather than a lake,” he said lowly. “Trying to fight its way through to the other side, but overwhelmed by the sheer strength of the sea...”

Carewyn gave him a comforting squeeze. Orion didn’t say anything more, instead preferring to just stay in her arms. He never hugged her back, exactly, but he did eventually bring a hand up to tentatively rest on her back between her shoulders.

“I don’t suppose...I can look forward to seeing you at Chaser tryouts, next year?” he asked very softly.

He felt Carewyn’s shoulders lower slightly, and he immediately knew what her answer would be. Before she could verbalize any regret or apologies, though, he’d spoken again.

“Your presence is always welcome, Carewyn -- whether as my teammate...or simply as yourself.”

He pulled away just enough to look her in the face, his black eyes sparkling as he smiled sadly.

“You make for an excellent buoy in this ocean,” he said, “a place for birds to find some stability, before they take off again.”

Carewyn gave Orion a confident smile. “And fly higher than ever before.”

Orion’s smile spread enough to show teeth. “Yes.”

He gave a light pat-pat to her back as they broke apart. Carewyn smiled more fully, her new red lipstick bright against her pale skin, before turning on her heel and heading on ahead, back toward the castle. Orion watched her go, his expression gaining that bit more determination as he shouldered his broom.

Next year. Next year, they’d fly to their destination -- to victory, and the Quidditch Cup.

~~~

"I'll always be there for you"

Carewyn hadn’t expected her flat to feel quite so empty, after Erik had left. Obviously he had been away much of the time during the school year, while he was at Hogwarts -- but returning home over the summer and not finding Erik there watching some telly or reading up on dementors or the Auror Department was a bit surreal for her, all the same. Even not having Erik’s black-and-white tuxedo cat Han Solo around to curl up in her lap while she was at her desk seemed off-putting.

It was an odd relief when Orion popped in for a visit unexpectedly. When the Floo Network had sputtered with sparks and green flames, Carewyn had immediately gotten up, startled -- but when her partner climbed through, brushing his unevenly cut dark hair out of his sweaty face and brushing the soot off his black-and-white Quidditch robes, she felt her shoulders loosen instantly.

“Orion,” she breathed.

Orion beamed at her. “Hello, my Abraxan. I had hoped you hadn’t chosen to stay late...”

Carewyn swept over to him, immediately bringing her arms around him and holding him. Once Orion had recovered from the slightly-too-fast greeting, he brought a hand up to rest in her ginger hair, running through the strands.

“I received your letter,” he said. “It took a while for the owl to find me, since I was traveling...”

“I figured it would,” murmured Carewyn.

Her voice was attempting to sound off-hand, but Orion felt how strong her grip was, on the back of his robes. His eyes grew a bit smaller as he cradled her head beside his, his lips brushing up against the skin under her ear.

“Where’s Eos?” she asked.

“Back at home,” said Orion. His lips betrayed a wry smile. “She pretty much insisted that I go see you tonight, when I expressed my concern for you.”

Carewyn looked up, startled.

“Concern? What...what for?”

Orion’s eyes softened. “Your letter stated that Erik had moved out and that things feel oddly quiet, with him not here.”

“Well, yes, but...” Carewyn looked down at his shoulder, “...that’s just a point of fact -- nothing for you to...be concerned over...”

“On the contrary,” said Orion. “For you shared that feeling with me. And I know how much you try not to share those unhappy feelings with me, or anyone else, over Post. Therefore, if you shared that much, I knew it had to be overflow from what you were actually feeling.”

Carewyn didn’t answer. Orion tilted his head slightly to better watch her expression.

“Carewyn...look at our hands.”

He brought his hands up to take both of hers in his, holding them up for her to see.

“You see these rings we wear? Do you remember the vow we made, when we each placed them upon each other’s fingers?”

“Of course I do,” Carewyn said softly.

Orion smiled. “The words of our ceremony promised that we would be partners -- that I would be loving, faithful and loyal to you, in living our lives together...”

He brought her hands up to his lips, kissing the back of them before looking over them at Carewyn again.

“We are one, in heart, soul, and spirit. And your unhappiness is a shadow over both you and me -- one that I aim to introduce some sunlight to, whenever possible. And so, I am here.”

Carewyn glanced up at Orion out the top of her eyes, looking faintly unsure even as she smiled wryly.

“...So you fancy yourself to be the sunshine, Orion?”

“Fancy, hardly,” Orion said with a bright, white grin. “But I would be the sun, rain, moon, or stars, if it would bring you some peace.”

Carewyn’s expression softened. She brought a hand up to trail along Orion’s jawline affectionately as she leaned in enough that their foreheads touched.

“Don’t be silly. ...You already are my Starlight, Orion.”

Orion smiled fondly, trailing the hand through her hair to cradle her face. His eyes flitting from her eyes to her lips and back as to silently gage her approval, he then swept in and kissed her fully, breathing in the air she exhaled as he held her close. Even once they broke apart, their noses and lips stayed very close together.

“I’ll always be there for you, my sweet Abraxan,” Orion breathed against her lips. “I promise.”

~~~

"I have a surprise for you"

Carewyn was a planner. She always had been, from the time she was young. Her partner Orion, however, just about never planned anything, preferring to let the day guide him wherever it may. And now and again, Orion was able to remind Carewyn how much fun it could be, to live a bit more spontaneously. One time, after spending the night at Carewyn’s place, he’d cooked and packed up an entire lunch for Carewyn to bring to work and left it on the dining table for her with nothing but a note that said --

Surprise. There is a thermos of peppermint tea as well -- please finish it before moving on to any coffee, my Abraxan.

Other times, he’d just leave single flowers for her to find in her closet or on her bedside. He tended to pick wildflowers, but sometimes he’d leave small cut branches of forget-me-nots, which reminded him of Carewyn’s eyes. And every time Carewyn found a little note or gift from her partner, she found her heart grow that bit warmer and her smile spread that much wider.

And so, one day in April when Orion and Carewyn had planned to meet at home for dinner, Carewyn took Orion aback when she asked him to cover his eyes.

“I have a surprise for you,” she said with a wry smile.

Orion cocked his eyebrows, immediately intrigued. “Oh?”

Carewyn gave him a pointed, amused look. The prompting made Orion smile and he closed his eyes, his head subconsciously raising as if his eyes had rolled up into his head. He heard a closet open and then the lightest of shuffling, before he heard the door to Carewyn’s flat open and several footsteps outside.

“Carewyn?” he asked without opening his eyes.

“Go ahead and open them!” Carewyn called back.

Orion opened his eyes, to find Carewyn wasn’t there. Looking over at the open door of the flat, he strolled over so as to look out, and his mouth dropped open.

Carewyn was hovering just over the ground, balancing on one foot on her very own Nimbus 2000. She smiled at the sight of Orion’s stunned face -- at one point she lost her balance and wobbled ever-so-slightly, but she caught herself easily enough.

“Sorry -- I guess I’m a bit out of practice,” she confessed, trying to bite back her self-conscious flush. She put on her bravest smile again. “...I saved up to buy a new broom. Nothing state-of-the-art, of course, but...well, I thought maybe tonight, we could go for a broom ride, if you’d like. It’s foggy enough out that no one should see us, particularly if we’re flying high up...”

Carewyn was completely taken aback by Orion striding over to her and, his stunned expression never shifting, climbing up to stand on her broom too. Carewyn immediately almost fell off, but Orion actually grabbed her and scooped her up, holding her despite still balancing on her broom, and kissed her. It was short, but incredibly heated, with him holding her against him so tightly that it was like they were two snakes wrapped around each other.

When he broke the kiss, he was beaming from ear to ear, his black eyes and white smile both shining.

“My Abraxan...to fly with you again, after so long -- it’s a thought that makes my heart pound with the strength of an Erumpent.”

He trailed his lips along her cheek and jawline multiple times, leaving a trail of feathery-light kisses. Carewyn was flushed a dark red by now, but she couldn’t stop giggling, even despite the slight fear with which she clung to him.

“Orion -- we’re going to fall -- !”

Orion was chuckling fondly as he leapt off her broom back down to the ground with ease, twirling Carewyn around once as he continued to pepper kisses to her face.

“Not tonight, Carewyn,” he said brightly. “Tonight, we shall fly.”

He put her down at last, using his foot to lightly kick her broom up high enough that he could catch it.

“One moment, my Abraxan,” said Orion, his eyes sparkling with fondness. “I’ll go fetch my broom, so that we may fly side-by-side.”

Carewyn was smiling through her dark blush as she brought a hand up to hold Orion’s face in place and kiss his cheek. Orion kissed her cheek in return before turning on his heel and running back toward the fireplace so as to Floo back to his cabin for his own Firebolt broomstick.

Orion Amari rarely laughed. If he ever did, it was usually because he was surprised, and it was always low, understated, and soft, and yet still so unbelievably warm, like an oddly full-bodied chuckle. That evening, flying around Carewyn as easily as birds in flight, Orion couldn’t stop laughing, his heart positively overflowing with joy.

#orion amari #carewyn cromwell #my writing #fanfiction

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douxparadies · 4 years ago

Text

The Yule Ball

SUMMARY: The yule ball at Hogwarts was so eagerly awaited that everyone was on edge. Obviously, you were too, but you didn't know that the person you wanted to go with was too. There were some misunderstandings.

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: I confess that this little writing was kept inside "my drawer" and only now I decided to write it on the computer. I hope you like it.

I based my character on the game, that's why there are mentions of her being from Hufflepuff.

♦♦♦

“Y/N! Tonks! I need to hide!” Penny entered the common room in panic.

“What’s wrong, Penny?” you asked.

“I’ve heard that Diego wants to invite me to the ball. I don’t have a pair yet and I don’t know how to reject him. So, I’m running away until I find a good excuse.”

You and Tonks had to hold the laughter.

“Why won’t you go with him? He is pretty popular, you know?” you said.

“Oh, please! Have you heard the way he talks about himself?”

They heard people passing by the barrel. For the voices, it must be the boys.

“You didn’t see me!” Penny hurried to the girl’s dorm.

She barely had time to close the door, Diego came in right after.

“Have you guys seen Penny?” He asked.

You and Tonks had to make an extra effort to control the guilty faces.

“No, we didn’t see her. No.”

"Strange... I met Skye on the way, and she saw Penny coming here."

Diego turned around just as Chiara Lobosca left the girls' dorm.

"Chiara, is Penny sleeping yet?"

"Penny? She is-"

Behind Diego's back, you gestured fervently, silently asking Chiara to say yes.

“She is sleeping! She is sleeping already.”

"With all this ball stuff, she must be very tired," you added.

"It’s not that she usually sleeps like a rock-Ouch!" you nudged Tonks.

“Uh, okay. I'll speak to her tomorrow.”

The girls waited for the boy to leave and then collapsed on the couch.

“That was close.”

"Let’s go and see what we can do for Penny."

They went into the girl’s dorm and found Penny walking back and forth.

"How can I get rid of him?"

"Say you already have a pair," Tonks suggested before tossing a bean inside her mouth and making a grim face at the horrible taste of earthworm.

"But I don't have and I don't like lying either. I just don't want to hurt him."

“Then invite someone! Someone nice," you suggested and already had someone in mind. It worries her that Talbott might have wanted to go to the ball and had no one to go to because the only two students she ever saw him interacting with were Penny and herself. If possible, she wanted everyone to enjoy the ball. "It could be one of our friends."

“Yes. I guess you are right and I think I know who. I just hope he is not going with someone, already. I will send him an owl right away!”

You went to bed feeling quite satisfied with herself.

At the courtyard the next morning everyone was busy, walking here and there with all the work Penny Haywood was putting through into making the Celestial Ball the most marvellous. The corridors were filled with shining silver stars and everywhere, the students, more girls than boys, just talked about the ball. At the girl’s bathroom with Rowan, you brought the ball again with Rowan, she still couldn’t believe her friend didn’t want to go.

“It is not just me and Ben, many people just don’t want to go to this ball either. And it’s too stressful that everyone keeps talking about it.” Rowan said.

“You are looking by the entire wrong perspective. It is not about the ball it’s about enjoying it with the people you like.” You tried to convince her.

“So, you are going to the ball.”

“I would… But I don’t have a date.”

“What about that boy yesterday?” you felt her cheeks becoming red. A blond boy she didn’t know from Gryffindor asked you and you refused. You already had a person you wanted to go with and that was Charlie Weasley. Since the day he defended her from Merula in Care of Magical Creatures they became friends. He has been helping her find the next cursed vault and you didn’t even have to convince him to. But you still didn’t get the nerve to ask him for the ball.

“I rejected him. Well, who cares?” – you lied. You were just too embarrassed to admit there was a person, in particular, you wanted to go with. “Why would I get all dressed up for a stupid tradition anyway.” You added, spiritless.

“Alright, alright... I won’t go anyway. It is not like I even got a dress.” Rowan replied.

“Boo-hoo the poor losers couldn't get anyone to go to this stupid ball.” From one of the toilet cabins, Merula appeared as she was listening to the whole conversation.

“What about you, Merula? Who are you going with?” You asked, ignoring Merula’s antics.

“Humpf! That none of your business, weirdo!” She scoffed and walked away.

Rowan and You looked at each other for a second.

“Who do you think is going to take Merula to the ball?” You asked.

“Maybe she'll go with Barnaby.”

“They are no longer friends as far as I know. Besides, he's already going with that Ravenclaw girl.”

“With Tulip?”

“No. It’s the one with curly hair who is always reading.”

“Nancy Gould? What a surprise. I think I have never seen them talking with each other.”

Rowan liked Nancy since they both loved to read and preferred to spend time alone nurturing their knowledge. Although, Rowan’s interest was more general and Nancy showed a special interest in magical creatures. Maybe she and Barnaby had much in common after all.

“That's what he told me. Anyway, I want to get this story right, let's go to the lake and talk to her.”

You hasn't had a proper conversation with Nancy yet, but someone who is friends with Rowan, Ben and Liz couldn’t possibly be a bad person. Besides, you could use this opportunity. By the lake, they saw Nancy under a tree, drawing the giant squid that was resting at the surface.

“Nancy!” You called.

The girl looked up from her sketchbook, surprised to see the famous curse breaker of her year talking to her. You knew you were well-known at school because of her brother Jacob and the cursed vaults. What you could not imagine is that for good or for bad, you were becoming very popular for you deeds.

Later that morning, Andre got an unexpected invitation to the ball. He still hasn’t said to anyone, but now he was rather curious about who his friends were going with. At the courtyard he found Ben and Charlie playing gobblestones.

“Got any idea who you’re going to ask for the ball?” Andre asked.

As Rowan, Ben didn’t want to go to the ball, but You and Andre made special arrangements to help them with the clothes and now he was excited to go.

“I was too nervous to go before, but now I want to go alone. I’m not brave enough to invite somebody anyway.” Ben replied.

Charlie did not answer. Andre had an idea of whom his friend wanted to go with.

“Well, you better hurry up. I heard she already rejected a boy from our house.”

He wasn’t enthusiastic about the ball but the thought of You going with some other guy made his stomach churn.

“Who are you going with?”

“With Penny.”

Penny was the most popular and one of the most beautiful girls of their year. For sure a bunch of guys would be jealous.

“What? You asked her?”

“No, she asked me this morning. I was surprised too.”

“You were lucky. How am I supposed to ask her? We are friends and I don’t want to make things… awkward.” He could feel his heart racing already. Andre didn’t know what to say because he liked Penny but didn’t feel that way about her. If they asked Penny for advice she would definitely help, but you would know for sure since they are close.

“I don’t know how to help you. I asked Nancy yesterday, but she already had a pair.”

“Oh. She is going with Barnaby.” Ben said while eating a piece of chocolate he got for winning the game.

“Really? He asked her?” Andre was surprised. Nancy was too quiet and he knew she had few friends.

“I don’t know.”

“Now I’m curious. Let's talk to him, then.”

The boys went down the hill and found Barnaby throwing stones at the Fighting Willow.

“Hey, Barnaby. Are you busy?”

“No, just killing time. Need me for something?”

“It’s just… We're having trouble getting the girls to the ball…” Charlie said.

“We are?” Ben asked and Andre nudged his arm.

“So, we wanted to ask you how did you invite Nancy?”

“I don’t know, man. I just asked. She had lost Twiggy last week and I found him. When I returned him to her, I asked if she didn’t want to go with me.”

“Twiggy?”

“It is her bowtruckle. I kept him all day with me until Liz warned me it was hers.”

“We didn’t know you were close. I almost never see her talking with other people.” Andre said.

Barnaby scratched his head and made a confused expression, as he had just now given a deep thought about it.

“I have to admit, I feel sort of weird when I realize this. I mean, I like Nancy. She is easy to talk to and you can she’s pretty smart. She’s always done the demonstration when Professor McGonagall calls on her.” he smiled as he spoke so naively that the boys wondered if this was one of his secrets to attracted so many girls. Also, ‘easy to talk to’ was definitely not the way people usually described Nancy.

“Also, she let me play with Prowler.” He completed.

Prowler is the name of Nancy’s kneazle. Charlie and Andre exchanged funny looks, now they could see where his interest lies.

In the end, he still didn’t know how to get the nerves to invite You. He was getting worried now. If he didn’t do it soon, you will go with somebody else. He’d just have to talk to you, that’s all. He ran through the corridors expecting to find you, but his way was blocked by an unpleasant figure. Merula the bully from Slytherin.

“Looking for someone?” She asked.

“Go away, Merula. I don’t have time for you.”

“Oh, please! For as much as I hate you, I hate Y/S even more. So, I thought about warning you that she just doesn’t care about… what she called? A stupid tradition.”

He looked at her with skeptical eyes.

“… You are making this up.”

“I had just seen her, and she said exactly these words to that bookworm friend of hers. Well, I don’t really care if you believe me or not. But if you are going to invite her, I hope I can be there to see your face after rejection.” She left laughing.

He was never one for trusting Merula, but she managed to completely destroy his confidence.

♦ ♦ ♦

As Nancy told them the whole story it was impossible not to giggle when thinking about the number of girls who must have been furious having Barnaby taken away like that.

"Wow. I wish I could just do it easily, like Barnaby." You said.

“You think too much. After that everything you have done, inviting someone to the ball can’t be that scary, right?”

Nancy was a quiet girl, but she talked rather bluntly. And she was right, for the girl who defeated You Know Who - even as a boggart - last year. Asking Charlie should be easy.

“…yeah. You know what? You're right! I know what I'm supposed to do. I’m going to talk to him. I can do that!”

“Ew! What is this? the weirdos club?” It was Merula again.

“You have nothing better to do?” You said. The second time today, she was getting the feeling of persecution right now. “We are just talking about the ball, Merula. Want to join us?”

“Oh, please. I’m just waiting to see the show. The mighty Y/S doesn’t have a pair to the ball.”

“I will have a pair because I will invite the person I want, myself.” You said with her chin raised in confidence.

“You do that. Don’t waste a bit of your time thinking why a certain redhead boy haven’t asked you all this time.”

You were speechless, how did she know that she wanted to go with Charlie? What did Merula know about him that you didn’t? Merula said nothing more and just walked away with a smirk on her face as she just had won a fight.

“Why would she say that?” Rowan asked.

“Why do you think she does anything if not to harass others?” Nancy said that with a serious tone. But she hurriedly stored all her drawing material as if she wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. Before she goes, she stopped right next to You and spoke to her in a low tone.

“There is something there. Take care, curse-breaker.” She had a discreet smile in the end.

“You think Merula may have planned something?” Rowan asked after Nancy climbed up the hills back to the castle.

“I don’t know. But there's no smoke without fire. I will look for Charlie. We see each other in the common room.”

Determined, you marched off in search of Charlie, ready to confront him.

♦ ♦ ♦

“Charlie, why haven’t you invited me for the ball?”

At first, he was taken back for the sudden question. He was so busy thinking about inviting you that he didn’t think you would bring up the subject. Now he didn’t know what to say. The question looked like a minefield, what would be the right answer here?

“I didn’t know you wanted to go.” He said with genuine surprise.

You blinked at him in confusion.

“What? Why? What made you think that?”

“Come on? Really? You said it was a stupid thing.”

By the wide-eyed look on her face, he saw he had just screwed up.

“I can’t believe it! What Merula have told you?”

Judging by her reaction it was true after all. You were about to say that it was a lie, but he said instead.

“I think you were right. Who cares about this tradition anyway?”

You didn’t believe what you were hearing.

“Is that what you think? What is this for you?”

By ‘this’ what you hoped to hear was not just about the ball, but what did he think about their relationship. That he clearly didn’t grasp.

He nervously avoided you gaze and didn’t say anything.

“Answer the question, Charlie.” You demanded in a low tone but commanding voice. This hurtful discussion was taking long enough. He normally likes how you say his name, but you tone this time was a bit scary. He felt cornered.

“Why are you pushing this?”

That was the final blow. You felt this horrible feeling swelling up and the tears forming in her eyes. Since you skin was so pale, every time she cries you nose gets red. You could not see it, but you felt your nose pricking already.

“I thought it had a special motive for you to want to be with me. I guess it was not the case.”

You tried to say in a low and composed voice, but it sounded choked. You cleaned with your palm a single tear that escaped your eye. At this vision of you, his eyes opened wide, and he felt like his heart would stop. He had never seen you cry, not even once since he knew her. Not even when people talked bad things about you or your brother, nor when they went to the Forbidden Forest, not even when you fought your biggest fear last year.

“Wait, it’s not like that-” He grabbed you arm, but you furiously shook it off and turned away from him, walking though.

The next day, Charlie tried to talk to you in all ways he could think of and you clearly avoided him all the times with a furious look on her face. Also, you were never alone, which turned even harder to approach.

“What did you even do to her to get her this mad?” Bill asked after Gryffindor’s practice. It was hard not to notice the tension between them since morning.

“I screwed it up this ball thing. Now I can’t even say I’m sorry, much less invite her.”

“Well, you must try harder, little bro. I heard Y/N was invited by two other guys.”

“What?” Charlie’s face went pale in despair, he almost fell off his broom.

From the other side of the quidditch field, Ben came running towards them and clumsy bumping in a few players along the way. He brought news from you.

“Alright, huh... I talked to Y/N.”

“What Y/N said?”

“... Y/N said that she hates you with the fire of a Chinese Fireball. She also said that is the only way you get it.”

“... Thanks, Ben. That was very comforting,” Charlie said, not masking his ironic tone.

“Maybe Y/N just needs a day to cool off.”

Suddenly a furious bludger came flying over their heads, and they barely dodged.

“Bloody hell!”

From the other side of the field, a Tonks faking an ‘oopsie!’ and an angry you dropping a quidditch bat you used to send that bludger on their direction. You really looked completely like a dragon in fury. The truth is, he thought you were pretty cute when you are mad. He just never noticed before. Well, he had never seen you get that mad.

“… Maybe two,” Bill said.

“Are you kidding?” Charlie had an incredulous look on his face.

“Well, you better hurry. The ball is this weekend.”

Later that night, you went to the dormitories with Rowan, Penny, Chiara, and Tonks discussing the ball. At first, Rowan and Ben didn’t want to go to the ball, but You and Andre made special arrangements to help them with their clothes, and they changed their minds about going.

“And who are you going with, Tonks?”

“Oh, I’m not planning to dance with some boy. Tulip and I made a plan to rock this party. She is the best partner I could have. This ball will be unforgettable.”

“Please, don’t do anything that will ruin my work. Also, the teachers could get angry and you will be in trouble, again.”

“I swear! Nothing bad will befall your party. Just cool stuff.”

“Wait. What is this?” On Chiara’s bed was a cardboard package with a pretty ribbon on it.

“Open it!” The girls said.

Inside there was a beautiful lilac long dress, perfect for a ball.

“There is a letter.” You noticed and passed to Chiara.

It was more like a note, though carefully written. Talbott Winger asked Chiara to the ball. The two of them are strangely alike and like to keep their distance from people, strangely it worked for them with a little help from You and Andre with the idea of the dress. How ironic, you had managed to help your friends go to the ball that you would not be attending herself.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Penny asked. You were laid on bed looking at the ceiling in silence while the girls were talking for a while now.

“...Oh, I... I will be.”

“You really are not going to the ball?” Penny asked a bit of hurt because the whole reason she wanted to take care of the Celestial Ball was to make it a brilliant experience for her friends.

“Things didn’t go well with Charlie?” Rowan asked.

Everyone looked at you. It was nothing new they weren’t on good terms, but even so, you blushed a little. There were other boys who invited you and you refused them all. That’s because there was only one person you wanted to go with.

“Yes, that’s right.”

The girls made a pitiful face, except for Rowan that walked to the other side of the room to sit together with you on her bed.

“Look. I know that what you said to me in the bathroom was a lie.”

“I’m sorry... I don’t want to spoil your fun at the ball by faking a face.”

“You are always helping us, Y/N. We wouldn’t get any fun at the ball knowing that you are sitting in here.”

You smiled slightly at her comforting words.

“Do you want to go to the ball, don’t you?”

You nodded.

“Then screw those boys and come to the ball with us!” Said Tonks.

“Yes! Come to the ball!” Penny joined.

“That’s right. Thank you, girls.” With their help, you were able to cheer up.

“Then, it’s decided. Let’s go to the ball!”

You got out of bed feeling much better. Even if it was the end of the school’s term there was plenty of homework to do. Most of them from potion’s class. As a diligent student, apart from her troublemaker reputation, you were doing a final review for the Snape's class, not without asking herself every minute why he couldn't be like professor Flitwick. That’s when you received an unexpected visit to your favourite place to study, it was Murphy Mcnully.

“Hey, Y/N! Can I talk with you for a minute?”

Who could have imagined that in the end, you would still get a pair to the ball? Murphy wasn’t the one you wanted, but they were close friends now. They met a lot of now since you joined the quidditch team. Besides, you feared that he wouldn’t stop talking until you said yes. They gathered at the entrance to the main hall. At the centre of the ballroom tons of other students danced livelily. The decoration was wonderful, with a spell the floor was turned into an entire galaxy under their feet. You could really feel what was like floating in a night sky, especially with the flickering shooting stars coming down from the ballroom’s ceiling. The music is pounding in time to your heartbeat. You could feel the bass in her chest.

“Penny did an excellent job!” Tonks appraised. She had to raise her voice to be heard over the sound of the Weird Sisters playing at the stage.

But you couldn’t enjoy any of this. You had barely entered accompanied by Murphy, when Ben came running in their direction, looking quite alarmed.

“Y/N, something happened.”

“What is it, Ben?”

“It is Charlie, he fell from the broom.”

“What?” You felt her heart sank.

“He is at the infirmary.”

You started to go to the infirmary, completely forgetting about the ball, but you turned around at the realization that you were Murphy’s partner and that you couldn't just leave. But her heart aches. You bit your lower lip in distress.

“Aren’t you going?” Ben asked.

You gave a quick look at him and then turned to Murphy. Even if you were mad at Charlie for two weeks, you had a heart-breaking expression.

“It’s okay, Y/N. You can go see him.”

“No, it’s unfair! I said I’d go with you.”

“I will be fine, really. It must be very boring for him to stay there with the ball going on.” He gave her a reassuring smile.

“Don’t you want to go with us?” You asked.

“Nah, I want to enjoy the party.”

“If you say so. Thank you, Murphy.” You smiled at him and followed Ben as fast as she could in those hills and holding up the tips of her long dress. At the infirmary, there was only Bill besides Charlie’s bed. As you walked in, you were quickly noticed. Charlie looked up, showing a surprised expression and Bill followed his gaze. In the end, he got to see Y/N. You were beautifully dressed. You usually had her hair down. But tonight, you wavy brown hair was tied up in a curly hairstyle. You were wearing a multilayered light blue dress with shades of pink and orange at the tip of the skirt it made it look like an evening sky.

“You?”

“How are you feeling?” You asked.

“Much better. Madam Pomfrey already took care of everything.”

“How did that happen?”

Bill took this opportunity to left them alone and dragged Ben out.

“Well. I think I’ve got distracted in our last game.” In fact, it was because he heard you were going to the ball with Murphy Mcnully right before the game, and he couldn’t concentrate. Thinking about it again was still hurtful. What reminds him, what were you doing here all dressed up instead?

“I thought you were going to the ball.”

“I was, but when I heard that you got injured… I was worried.”

“Oh! Even though you threw that bludger merciless on me?”

“That was different! I knew that you would have dodged it. You are that skilful.” That was the reason why you were so surprised when she heard that he fell. His face became red at the sudden compliment.

“That means you forgive me?” He gazed at you with those dark glittering eyes that make you nervous. You averted your gaze and didn’t answer.

“Y/N/N?” He asked and you turned your gaze back to him. He just gave you a pet name? No one has ever called her Y/N/N before. You could feel your cheeks burning, so you shook her head.

“Look. It is not that I don’t care about the ball. What I care about is being with you.”

His heartbeat staggers. It was all he wanted to hear.

“Listen... I’m really sorry for questing your motives. I just... I was just afraid they weren’t the same as mine...” He said, too embarrassed to keep his gaze on you.

At this sentence, you were filled with a newfound joy. You were blushing hard and your eyes were filled with tears of joy you were trying hard not to cry.

“You got to ruin the party, you stupid.”

Charlie laughed.

“I know. I’m sorry.” Now he was grinning at you, his freckled face illuminated by the light from the bedside table’s single candle. Since it was night, the rest of the infirmary was left in darkness.

#Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #hphm #charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley x mc #hphm imagine #hp hogwarts mystery #hogwarts mystery #charlie weasley x you #charlie weasley x jacob siblings #reader insert #douxparadiesfanfic #nohelia levesque

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lifeofkaze · 3 years ago

Text

An Art of Balance #33

Orion Amari x MC

Warning: Mention on injuries and a teeny tiny bit of blood

A/N: Ira Janda and Julian Bennett belong to @slytherindisaster, Azariah Steele belongs to @cursebreakerfarrier, Henry McClarnon to @thatravenpuffwitch and, of course, Judith Harris to @judediangelo75

Word Count: ~ 5.900 (I sincerely apologise for this. I am so sorry.)

_____________________________________

Chapter 33: Leap of Faith

Both teams were already waiting at the entrance of the pitch, when the three Hufflepuff Chasers joined them. The shadow of the stands overhead was concealing them from most of the crowd while they waited for Murphy to make the usual introductions. The atmosphere was so strained it could have been cut with a knife as Orion made his way to the front to stand next to Charlie. Lizzie and Skye were filing into their position in the line according to their squad numbers; out of the corner of his eyes, Orion could see how tightly Lizzie was gripping the hilt of her broomstick. She would usually have a little banter with her friends on the Gryffindor team, but today, none of the fourteen players spoke a single word.

Orion could catch a glimpse of the bright blue sky spanning the stadium. The sun was glaring down on them, its burning heat lessened by the light breeze that had picked up; the conditions were perfect for the match of the year.

“Are you ready for the last match of this year’s season, the final of all finals?” Murphy’s magically enhanced voice sounded through the air over the excited rumblings of the crowd.

“Going against all odds, which are standing at a remarkable 7.6 % to 92.4 %, both teams are starting into today’s game with the same amount of points scored throughout the year,” Murphy elaborated on the starting situation. “That means, the winner of this match will claim the House Cup and be crowned Hogwarts’s new Quidditch champion! Without further ado, I present to you the first of the contenders: fast as lightning, brave as lions and daring as they come; a massive applause for Gryffindor!”

Charlie and Orion shared a short look before the Gryffindors mounted their broomsticks and entered the roaring arena in flashes of gold and crimson. Orion could feel his heart beating in his chest as they circled the perimeter of the pitch once.

When it was their turn, he felt a sudden and familiar sense of calm wash over him as he mounted his broom and led his team out into the blazing sunlight. This was it, the moment they had all been working towards was here; there was no going back now.

The teams gathered around Madam Hooch in the middle of the pitch. As she recounted the rules for them, like she would always do, Orion let his eyes wander over his team members one last time to check if they were ready to spring into action as soon as the balls were released. He and Lizzie locked eyes for a moment, his slight nod of encouragement answered by a barely visible smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“We’ve had a clean season so far and none of you is going to change that, do you all get me?” Madam Hooch barked, her piercingly yellow eyes sweeping the circle of players around her. “I want a good, fair game, alright? Captains, shake hands.”

Orion and Charlie did as they were told, clasping their hands together with a resounding smack.

“Good luck everyone.”

With the sound of her whistle, the Bludgers and the Snitch were released and Madam Hooch threw the Quaffle high up into the air; the game was on.

Skye lost no time whatsoever; shooting upwards on her Comet, she immediately claimed the Quaffle and headed for the Gryffindor goalposts. Lizzie and Orion were flying by her side before they veered off to their own assigned positions.

Just as Orion had anticipated, with the beginning of the match all his nerves had made way for an absolute clarity of mind. For the first in what felt like forever, he knew exactly what to do.

As it turned out, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor being the teams fighting for the Cup was a more than warranted pairing. Even from the beginning, the match was pretty balanced, albeit incredibly tough to play.

The Gryffindor Beaters Julian Bennett and Henry McClarnon - a tall, broad shouldered boy from Lizzie’s and Skye’s year with a long, black ponytail - were in unbelievably good form. Orion and the other Chasers had to constantly dodge the Bludgers they were sending at them; somehow, however, they still managed to function as a unit.

Skye’s and Lizzie’s individual training was paying off splendidly; they were interacting in a completely new way no one except their own team members had seen before. Until the Gryffindors had adapted to the new style, they were able to score quite a few goals.

It wasn’t long before Orion and his team had carved out a hard-earned lead. After a failed pass, Skye lost the Quaffle to one of the opposing Chasers near their own goalposts who didn’t lose any time. He made short work of his attack and cheered as the Hufflepuff rings flared up.

“Another goal for Gryffindor,” Murphy’s voice could be heard echoing across the pitch. “That means another ten points adding onto the lion’s score. But I’m afraid the goal scorer won’t have much longer to celebrate.”

As Murphy was speaking, Judith had sent a Bludger flying towards the unheeding Chaser. He tried to dodge the spinning iron sphere, but he had seen it too late; making contact with the handle of his broom, it broke the hilt into an assortment of varnish and splinters. The sheer force of the impact sent the Chaser spiralling towards the ground, where he hopped off his dysfunctional broomstick moments later.

“Ouch, that one might be in need of a new broom, I think,” Murphy commented, sounding way more excited at the situation than he had any right to be. “According to Which Broomstick?, the leading magazine on Quidditch gear, the standard model of the Cleansweep 6 would be a good shot, with only 14.5 % less speed compared to the reigning market champion, but I digress. This particular broom, in any case, is 98.3 % not flyable anymore and that means, as of now, Gryffindor is short a Chaser!”

The crowd groaned at his words; the Gryffindor supporters because they were missing a player and the rest because now the tides of the game were undoubtedly bound to shift.

“It seems as if Hufflepuff is losing no time in using the new situation to their advantage,” Murphy continued as he watched the rapidly moving scene in front of him.

“Amari claims the Quaffle and heads towards the Gryffindor goalposts at lightning speed; he dodges the Bludgers sent after him by McClarnon and Bennett but will he be able to score, ladies and gentlemen? Of course!” Murphy jubilated maybe a bit too enthusiastically. “Amari sends the Quaffle past Gryffindor’s Keeper Steele with deadly precision and secures another ten points for Hufflepuff!”

Orion usually wasn’t keen on cheering excessively, preferring to keep his mind focused on the next move. But he couldn’t help a grin as Lizzie and Skye flew to his side and clapped him on the back, both cheering all the louder for his lack thereof. Skye raised her arms towards the Hufflepuff stands, firing them up to give it their all with their support.

Without their third Chaser, Gryffindor was slowly but surely starting to get into a fix. Being short a player, they had trouble getting hold of their opponents and were outflown or scattered by Judith’s and Everett’s Bludgers more than once.

A powerless Charlie was trying to rearrange his team but it didn’t help; he was forced to stay on the sidelines of the game. He could do nothing until the Golden Snitch was spotted and his time to take an active part in the game had come.

Due to the new situation, Orion was able to pass the Quaffle back and forth with Skye and Lizzie to their hearts’ content; it was showing yet again, if there was one thing holding the power to unite them like nothing else, it was their shared passion for the game they loved.

With their decimated numbers, not even the above average speed of the lions was enough to stop them once Hufflepuff had adapted their strategy. They were able to score many times in a rapid succession, giving them a more than comfortable lead.

The effect the change in balance had on Gryffindor was palpable; as the Hufflepuff score was increasing, the Gryffindor Chasers were starting to play more roughly, bumping into whoever held the Quaffle more often than not. When Madam Hooch had seen enough of it, the shrill sound of her whistle cut through the air, awarding Hufflepuff a free shot.

Skye took the responsibility on herself and expertly threw the Quaffle past Azariah, much to the chagrin of the Chasers who saw their foul play backfiring on them. After Skye flew past them with a smug look on her face, they shared a look between them before they set after her. One coming up on each side of her, they suddenly yanked their broomsticks inwards and wedged her in. One of them leaned over and let the handle of his broom collide with Skye’s, throwing her off course.

Guessing what Skye’s reaction to being fouled would be like, Orion was quick to fly towards the scene, finding himself to be correct. By the time he arrived, all three players were arguing fiercely; only moments after Charlie joined the scene.

“T’was a bloody foul and you know it,” Skye snarled at the other Chaser with flashing eyes. Orion didn’t know what had been said earlier, but judging by the angry spots on Skye’s face, they had been working themselves into quite a state already.

“No idea what you’re on about, Parkin. Must be seeing things, I guess,” the Gryffindor Chaser sneered; it was the one who had crashed into her.

Skye leaned forward and opened her mouth to shoot back but Orion was quicker. He got hold of her shoulder and pulled her back. While he tried to insert a calm energy into the heated situation, there was unwavering determination underlying his touch; he would not let this escalate.

“It’s enough Skye,” he told her firmly. “Let it go and concentrate on what matters.”

“But Captain,“ Skye started protesting, but Orion shook his head.

“No, don’t waste your energy on a needless fight; these are not our methods.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” the Gryffindor Chaser from before chimed in angrily. “You have a problem with our methods, Amari?”

“Easy now,” Charlie interrupted before tempers could flare up again. “He is right; let’s just play, all this bickering is leading nowhere.”

His Chasers faltered under the withering look Charlie gave them. While he was always ready to put up a fight on the Quidditch pitch, Charlie was known to disapprove of foul play; he wasn’t happy with either of the turns the match had taken.

Thankfully, Charlie’s sharp words had the desired effect and their little gathering was dissolving quickly.

Sure enough, the move on Skye had not gone unnoticed by Madam Hooch and she awarded yet another free shot to Hufflepuff. Skye shot it brazenly past Azariah with all the force she could muster. He was diving for the right hoop, but wasn’t quick enough to prevent her from scoring again; his angry outcry could even be heard from where Orion was hovering in the air.

Cheering at her goal, Skye raised her fist into the air and flew by the Gryffindor stands on purpose. Orion furrowed his brow in dismay; he didn’t approve of her deliberate provocation at all.

“Hufflepuff scores another goal with Parkin’s free shot, raising the score into dizzying heights,” Murphy summarised the events for their onlookers. “Even if Weasley were to catch the Snitch right now, the additional 150 points wouldn’t be enough for Gryffindor to win. What a fantastic goal fest we are allowed to witness here today!”

When he heard Murphy announce the current score, Orion allowed himself to let a hint of relief touch his mind. He had felt confident about their chances at success from the beginning, but now, the end of their journey was becoming clearer as they approached the finish line.

Nevertheless, he remained apprehensive about the Gryffindors’ reactions. After all, if not even Charlie could secure their win right now, their situation was getting desperate and Orion knew a lion was most dangerous when it was wounded.

Contrary to him, however, his team didn’t seem to be sharing his concerns. Lucy was the only one still fully focused on the task of finding and securing the Snitch, but the others were visibly relieved at the high lead they had managed to attain.

He saw Lizzie and Skye passing the Quaffle between them a lot more recklessly than they had to; both their Beaters seemed to be more relaxed than in the beginning of the match as well. Orion felt the need to remind them to pay attention, but the sudden sound of Judith violently cursing stopped him dead in his tracks.

“The comfortable lead seems to have made the Hufflepuff team a little bit more careless than they should be,” Murphy exclaimed. “A Bludger from Bennett makes it past Harris and Everett and is headed straight for the Hufflepuff Keeper. I’m afraid this has a 72.3 % chance of ending badly.”

Neither of the Beaters was close enough to reach the attacking Bludger in time; Judith was trying to, but she was too far away to catch up with it. Orion could only watch with gritted teeth how Brian was trying to move out of the way, but he wasn’t fast enough. The impact of the Bludger against his shoulder probably wasn’t so bad in itself; he had been hovering close to his goalposts, however, and was now smacked into the middle one with force. Orion went pale as he saw his teammate collapse onto his broom and sink slowly to the ground.

He gripped the handle of his broom tighter and went off to go and check on him immediately; his movement got cut off by yet another Bludger whizzing over his head, straight into the direction of Lizzie and Skye.

Both girls had been watching Brian crash from somewhere close to the Ravenclaw tower; they were so distracted by their Keeper’s demise that they didn’t see the Bludger shooting towards them. A surprised looking Skye was able to dive out of its way just in time, but Lizzie wasn’t as lucky.

The crowd gave a collective gasp as Lizzie was hit square in the chest, her audible cry of pain ripping at Orion’s heart. He felt his breath hitching as he watched Lizzie getting knocked off her broom and into the wooden Ravenclaw Tower. She clung onto the blue banner hanging from it on pure instinct to keep herself from falling; her Comet, useless without its rider, was tumbling to the ground.

“McClarnon’s Bludger hits Jameson and leaves her without her broomstick, hanging from a height that will 87.4 % crush her bones if she doesn’t manage to hold on. Someone better do something right now!” Murphy’s voice was shaking with distress at Lizzie’s predicament.

Shrieks erupted from the stands as the Ravenclaw banners suddenly gave way before stopping again; they weren't intended to support the weight of someone clinging to them after all. Lizzie was screaming loudest of them all as she desperately tried to hold on to the piece of fabric that stood between her and more than several broken bones.

All of it had happened incredibly quickly, but the sound of her screaming had Orion snap out of his state of shock. He raced his broom over to the Ravenclaw tower as fast as it would allow, his heart thumping painfully in his chest. Lizzie’s eyes were wide with fear and relief as he reached her and helped her up on his broom. He saw how her ashy face twisted in pain as she held onto him with one arm, cradling her ribcage with the other. Her breath left her lips in a strained hiss and Orion could tell that she was hurt.

With Lizzie and Brian being attacked simultaneously, the match had all but stopped, everyone on the stands and the pitch anxiously watching the events unfold. A sigh of relief rippled through the crowd after Lizzie had been saved. Wanting her to get examined and needing to check on their Keeper as well, Orion signalled to Madam Hooch for a time out.

As soon as their feet hit the ground, Orion could feel Lizzie’s grip on him tightening as she struggled to support her own weight. After she had adjusted to standing again, she let go of him, clambered off his broom and gingerly sat down on the grass.

Her breathing was shallow and she dipped her head back into her neck. Orion could see that her eyes were shut tightly and her lips pressed together in pain. When she relaxed them, a distinct red sheen formed on them, growing into a ruby bead of blood that slowly started trickling over her lower lip.

He knelt down beside her immediately and gently took hold of her chin, turning her face ever so slightly to see how badly she was hurt. Lizzie winced at his initial touch but didn’t draw away. Instead, her eyes found his and the corner of her mouth twitched into a wry smile as she spoke.

“Don’t worry, Captain,” she reassured him, “I only bit my lip when falling, nothing too major.”

The strain in her voice did nothing to ease his worries, but before he could say anything, Ira appeared at their side, her brow furrowed in concern. She was acting as Madam Pomfrey’s extended hand during Quidditch matches, taking care of minor injuries. She brushed her blond curls out of her face before she gently but firmly pushed Orion to the side to examine the damage the Bludger had done.

Ira quickly checked Lizzie’s eyes for any sign of a concussion; when she was satisfied with the result, she moved on towards her bleeding lip. She took her wand out and muttered “Episkey”, making short work of the small wound. When she started scanning Lizzie’s ribcage, however, Lizzie grit her teeth, trying hard not to cry out at her touch.

“You’re lucky,” Ira stated as she straightened up again. “As far as I can tell, nothing’s broken but your ribs are badly bruised. This is going to hurt tomorrow.”

“Only tomorrow? What’s this now then?” Lizzie pressed out with a wry grin, trying to mask the pain that flooded her with every breath she was taking. “Can you give me something for the pain?”

Ira handed her a small, stoppered vial from her bag. The turquoise liquid inside was gleaming brightly in the sunlight as Lizzie unceremoniously upended it into her mouth.

The sound of angry voices approaching drew their attention; Charlie and Henry were headed over from where the Gryffindors had gathered; Skye was following in their wake, both Lizzie’s and her broomsticks resting on her shoulders. She was arguing loudly with Henry; a hint of annoyance at their bickering was visible on Charlie’s face. All of them knew that Henry hadn’t hit the Bludger out of ill intent; as brutal as it was, it was part of the game.

He immediately forgot his fight with Skye, however, as soon as they were within earshot. His usually cheerful face was pale and his brows drawn together with worry.

“Lizzie, thank Godric you’re alright!” he exclaimed. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you so hard. I thought you’d dive or something!”

“Well, thanks to Julian knocking out our Keeper I was a tad distracted,” Lizzie replied sardonically. “I’ll give you that, Henry, you have a brutal swing.”

The tall Beater hung his head; it was palpable how bad he felt, although he had only done his job. “I’m really, really sorry.”

Charlie crouched down next to her, his brown eyes looking her up and down. “You alright, kiddo?” he asked her quietly.

Lizzie nodded and got to her feet again. “I’ll survive it; the potion’s working already.”

“That’s good to hear,” the voice of Madam Hooch could be heard behind them. She had been over at the Hufflepuff goalposts to check on Brian and had now come over to see in what state Lizzie was in.

“Your Keeper is out cold, I’m afraid,” she told Orion, who grimaced at his fear being confirmed. “He won’t be playing another second today, I’ll have him sent straight to the Hospital Wing.”

Her yellow eyes rested on Lizzie, trying to determine whether she should follow Brian or not. “What about you, Jameson? Can you play again?”

“Yes,” Lizzie answered immediately, simultaneously with Orion’s determined “No.”

Lizzie gave him a stubborn look. “Of course I can play; I have to. You heard Madam Hooch, we’re short one player already.”

Orion crossed his arms in front of his chest and shook his head. “Absolutely not,” he declared firmly. “I applaud your dedication to our team, but right now it is thoroughly misplaced. You’ll go to the Hospital Wing and get yourself examined properly.”

Lizzie couldn’t believe her ears; it was very unlike Orion to not trust her judgement. “Are you serious? No matter how far we’re in the lead, with two players missing, we might as well give up straight away!”

Madam Hooch had watched their discussion silently; there was no way to tell her opinion from her unreadable face, so Lizzie was surprised when she spoke up.

“I’m afraid she’s right, Amari,” she said matter-of-factly. “With only five players your team will be in a rough place before you can say Bludger Backbeat.” She shrugged. “But in the end, that’s your decision.”

Orion knew they were right; the only way they could win this match with Lizzie and Brian missing was by Lucy catching the Snitch as quickly as possible, but there was no way to tell when or where the evasive golden ball would make its next appearance.

Injuries were a regular part of Quidditch and they all had been at the receiving end of a Bludger one time or the other; but Orion was still deeply shaken by the thought of Lizzie hanging from the side of that tower. He didn’t want to risk her getting hurt again.

He ran his hand through his hair and closed his eyes, uncertain what to do. “I don’t know,” he sighed doubtfully before turning to Ira. “You examined her, what do you think?”

Ira was looking uncomfortable at being dragged into the discussion. “Well, the potion I gave Lizzie should last for a bit, so she won’t be in pain for now; it will hurt like hell once it’s wearing off, though.”

She could only shrug helplessly as Lizzie and Orion both stared at her intensely, both wanting her to say the complete opposite. “But from a medical perspective, there’s nothing really speaking against it. If you promise me to get straight to Madam Pomfrey afterwards,” she added with a sharp look at Lizzie.

While he was glad that Lizzie really didn’t seem to be injured too badly, Orion still wasn’t convinced. “I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

His restless gaze met Lizzie’s for a moment. She locked eyes with him, unwavering resolve burning in them. Despite being the one who had fallen off her broom, she radiated a calm determination that slowly spread over to Orion as everything else around them seemed to fade for a moment.

“If you don’t want me to get back into the game, I will accept your decision,” Lizzie told him quietly. “But please, think about it. You know it just as well as I do, without a Keeper and three Chasers there is no way we can win.”

Orion bit his lip. He knew that she was right and he wanted to believe her, but there was no way of telling if the odds were really worth the risk.

Sensing his resolve wavering, Lizzie put her hand on his forearm, just where his captain’s armband was tied over his yellow robes. “Orion, please, let me play. You can trust me.”

His dark eyes flickered over her face, taking in the faint trace of blood still clinging to the corner of her mouth. “Are you absolutely sure?”

She only smiled at him for an answer and nodded.

Breaking the contact with her, Orion closed his eyes for a moment. He could feel her words were ringing true and he could see how badly she wanted to finish the match. What was more, he knew that she understood how much achieving their goal with this team meant to him.

And yet, she was ready to accept his decision, regardless of her own wishes. She trusted him to do what was best for all of them.

He took a deep breath and opened his eyes. If Lizzie was so sure about it, he had to give her the benefit of the doubt and take a leap of faith; he just hoped it wouldn’t be misplaced.

“Alright, you heard her,” he declared loudly and clapped into his hands. “Let’s get back into the game. It’s time to finish this”

***

After both teams had returned into the air the match resumed, albeit it was palpable that everyone was still shaken by what had happened.

It became increasingly difficult, if not downright impossible, for the Hufflepuff Chasers to score. Orion had withdrawn Judith and Everett from the main events of the game; they couldn’t leave their goalposts at the mercy of the remaining Gryffindor Chasers, so the two Beaters were now circling the hoops and setting Bludgers on every crimson-clad player that dared venture too close to them.

As a result, however, Orion, Lizzie and Skye were left without any sort of protection themselves. They were too busy dodging Bludgers and taking the Quaffle off their attacking opponents to even come anywhere near the Gryffindor posts.

Lizzie had just lost the Quaffle again and had turned around to chase after it, when her attention was caught by a flesh of red robes shooting upwards at a steep angle.

It was Charlie, his eyes trained on a spot high above them where a golden gleam was visible against the blue sky. Lizzie held her breath as she watched him ascent, her hunt for the Quaffle all but forgotten. Gryffindor had been able to score a few times and Hufflepuff was exactly 150 points in the lead; if Charlie caught the Snitch now, they would find themselves in a tie.

Luckily, the Snitch was hovering at a point in the air that had Charlie fly directly into the glaring sunlight. He tried to follow through for a few seconds longer before he couldn’t take the brightness anymore. Closing his eyes, he turned around and the Snitch vanished from sight once more. Relieved, Lizzie let out the breath she didn’t realise she had been holding.

She could hear Charlie’s outcry of frustration as he flew past her. A tie would play into Gryffindor’s hands; if two opposing teams had scored the same amount of points when the Snitch was caught, the winner was determined by a shoot-out and Hufflepuff was short a Keeper.

Much to everyone’s surprise, Charlie gestured to Madam Hooch, who blew her whistle moments later. Gryffindor was calling for a timeout.

Orion was looking as concerned as Lizzie felt herself when he gathered his team around him. His dark eyes swept over them as he spoke. “That was a close call; from what I could see, he very nearly caught the Snitch.”

Lucy’s shoulders slumped. “I know, I’m sorry; I should have seen it before him.”

“Don’t worry,” Orion shook his head, “Charlie is a gifted Seeker and he was in a better position to spot it. But the moment to call for a timeout is a peculiar one; I assume Gryffindor is about to change their strategy. They will probably switch to a full offensive while Charlie will go after the Snitch even more determined than before.”

He turned his attention to Lucy again. “Don’t let him catch it. We have to end this game on our terms and do it fast. As of now, we are exactly 150 points in the lead; if Charlie can secure the Snitch for his team, the winner will be determined through a one on one duel between the Chasers and the Keepers; and from where we stand, we are acutely short of one.”

“I could substitute as Keeper,” Skye offered. “I know how to play every position.”

Orion shook his head. “I appreciate your willingness to step up for the sake of the team, but I need you in the field to make sure the Quaffle stays with us and we manage to score at least one additional goal. And should it really come to a shootout, there is no one that could replace your precise aim.”

Skye nodded in agreement and Orion turned to Everett and Judith. “Make sure our goalposts are protected, should Gryffindor try for a counterattack. Chasers, try to keep the Quaffle in our ranks and score if you get the chance. We must not let it come to a one on one fight. Any questions?”

When all of them shook their heads, Orion nodded determinedly and mounted his broom again. “Let’s go and bring this Cup back home.”

Even though the Hufflepuff team had changed their tactics according to Orion’s plan, it proved incredibly tough to withstand the repeated assaults from the Gryffindor team.

Whatever Charlie had told them had reignited their desire to win and they set about their task with a grim determination. The Beaters were barely able to protect the goalposts from the continued attacks anymore, but somehow they managed.

They had been playing for several hours now and Lizzie wasn’t the only one who was starting to feel the exertion of the exceeding duration of the game. Everyone’s concentration was beginning to slip and the manoeuvres gradually becoming sloppier.

After another attempt on the Hufflepuff posts, Everett kicked the Quaffle back into the field; but even his brutish strength was fading and he didn’t have the experience that their Keeper did, so the Quaffle flew past Orion and began descending right in the middle between him and one of the opposing Chasers.

Orion immediately set after it and managed to catch it only moments before his opponent reached it. They almost collided in mid-air but Orion ducked under the other’s feet and sped up his broom on his way to the other side of the pitch, Lizzie and Skye falling in formation beside him. They only needed to score this one goal to make them breathe more easily.

The crowd had fallen increasingly silent as the match had dragged on, when suddenly a rumble went through the stands and Murphy’s voice drew Lizzie’s attention.

“Once again, Weasley seems to have spotted the Golden Snitch,” he exclaimed in excitement. “With O’Connell on the other side of the pitch, we might be witnessing the last moments of this year’s season right here and now! But I strongly suggest taking a good look at the Hufflepuff Chasers as well, as they are positioning themselves in their favourite formation to prepare for a last desperate attack.”

Lizzie gripped the handle of her broomstick tighter as she heard Murphy’s commentary; she knew the chances of Charlie letting the Snitch escape a second time were minimal. Out of the corner of her eye she could see both Julian and Henry aiming Bludgers in Orion’s direction, so she didn’t lose any time; lying as flat as she could on her broom, she sped up and broke free of their arrowhead formation. She shouted Orion’s name as she overtook him and he passed the Quaffle to her without a moment’s hesitation.

She could see Charlie extending his arm to reach for the Snitch and knew she had only moments left to score. The Gryffindor Chasers appeared at her side, trying to close in on her, but Lizzie pulled every last bit of speed her Comet could muster from it and left them behind. She had reached her favourite scoring distance and was absolutely sure she could bring the Quaffle past Azariah if she aimed for his least preferred hoop; the only question was if she still had the time to do so.

Lizzie was already preparing to throw when she suddenly saw Skye veering in from the side ahead of her. Employing one of their signature manoeuvres, she had used the focused attention on Lizzie to round behind the Gryffindor defence and reappear unexpectedly.

Lizzie was in a prime position to score and it was only seconds until Charlie would close his fist around the Snitch. Her eyes flickered to the commentary box and for a fraction of a second she could see Ethan Parkin standing in the first row next to Murphy, leaning dangerously far over the railing in excitement and anticipation.

Lizzie decided to go all in.

Screaming Skye’s name, she threw the Quaffle in her direction with all the strength left in her, praying to every God she had ever heard of that this wouldn’t turn out to be the worst decision of her life.

Skye caught the Quaffle expertly and with Azariah not expecting the most borderline reckless move Lizzie had ever pulled off, he had no chance to dive for the right hoop in time as Skye shot the Quaffle towards him with brutal force.

The goalposts behind him were flashing up in the same moment that Charlie pulled out of his dive, the tiny wings of the Golden Snitch beating furiously against the palm of his raised hand.

The stands exploded into screams and cheers but all of the players were holding their breaths. No one knew what had happened first, Skye scoring or Charlie ending the match. All fourteen pairs of eyes were trained on the commentary box where Murphy tried working out the events.

“Parkin scores an incredible last minute goal as Weasley catches the Golden Snitch almost simultaneously!” Murphy almost stuttered in excitement, something close to no one had ever heard him do. “The chances of both moves happening at the exact same time lie way below 0.5 %, so let me check the scores.”

The moment seemed to stretch into forever; Lizzie held her breath and Skye, who had flown to her side, gripped her arm so tightly it hurt when Murphy bent down to his megaphone again.

“Parkin scored first!” Murphy screamed so loudly his usually steady voice cracked. “That means, the final match of the season ends with 90 to 390 points for Hufflepuff! Hufflepuff is this year’s reigning Quidditch champion!”

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #quidditch #orion amari #murphy mcnully #skye parkin #charlie weasley #lizzie jameson #aob #art of balance #the quidditch squad #longest quidditch chapter ever #sorry got carried away #ONLY TWO CHAPTERS LEFT NOW #OMFG #the end is nigh #I'm getting emotional over here

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a-hundred-jewels · 3 years ago

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what, you egg? - chapter 1

Ao3

Fandom: The Penderwicks Series - Jeanne Birdsall

Words: 1408

Tags: Transgender, Coming of Age, (i guess??), Vingettes, Series of Moments, kind of in a similar vein to "Sparkle and Fade", which is that really good penderwicks fic about skye by spark writer on ff.net, the title is a multilayered joke that im very proud of, i see all you trans shakespeare enthusiasts and i love you

Summary:

Rosalind Penderwick has known that she is a girl for as long as she can remember. It's just the rest of the world that needs to catch up.

Or: The childhood of Rosalind Penderwick told in a series of vingettes and short stories as she navigates choosing her name, dealing with her mother's death, and being true to herself.

Fic under the cut (or on Ao3)

chapter 1: names and pizza

The notes were scratchy, drifting through the walkman on the grass. Pressing the headphones closer to her small ears, Leonarda--

“Nope.” She sat up abruptly, and the headphones fell onto the grass. “Nope, nope, nope.”

“Which one was that?” Her sister, Skye, with blond hair and long, lanky limbs, sat up next to her, grass stains smudged on her cheek like face paint.

“Leonarda.”

“Oh. That’s one of the ones Jane picked, right?”

“Yeah.” She flopped back down to the grass and sighed.

“I can tell her.” Skye hugged her knees to her chest. She was six, but tall for her age, almost as tall as her older sister.

“Thanks.” It wasn’t that Leonarda wasn’t a good name. It just wasn’t right. Jane would understand.

Headphones in again, Fleetwood Mac drifted into the girl’s ears and she shut her eyes.

___

“Jane?” On hurried footsteps, the girl ran down the stairs. “Jane, what’s that smell?” No answer. She sped down the hall to the kitchen.

Jane was sitting cross legged on the kitchen table with her nose buried in a book, apparently oblivious to the awful smell surrounding her. She looked up at the sound of feet. “What about Lucy Pevensie?” she said, her eyes shiny like they were still seeing the sparkling snow of Narnia, instead of her older sister standing at the kitchen door.

“What? No, I don’t think I can name myself Lucy Pevensie. Jane, what happened to the pizza? And where’s Skye?”

“What about Susan Pevensie?”

“Jane!” Jane sighed and closed her book with small hands. Patiently, as though she was being asked a very silly question, she said, “Daddy is on the phone because Mommy called from the hospital.”

“Yes, I know that part. You and Skye were supposed to finish making the pizza and wait for Daddy to put it in the oven. Where’s Skye?”

“She’s washing the cheese off her soccer keets.” Jane smoothed her purple skirt over her lap and reached for her book again, but her sister stopped her.

“Jane, why is the oven on at four-hundred degrees--oh my god!” She turned the oven off and yanked its door open. Smoke poured out, and the smoke alarm shrieked in protest. Behind her, Jane started to cry, partly out of her fear of the smoke alarm and partly, the girl suspected, from the shame of being caught doing something you weren’t supposed to. Before anything else could be done, Skye ran in from the bathroom.

“I’m coming Jane! Oh god, please don’t cry! Uh, I can turn the thingy off! Whatever you do, just don’t get--oh.” Skye stopped in her tracks at the sight of her oldest sister. In her arms, Skye was carrying sopping wet soccer cleats and there was guilt written all over her face.

“Girls? What’s going on?” Their father entered the kitchen.

It was one of their father’s greatest features, the sisters thought, that upon entering a putrid-smelling kitchen with the smoke alarm blaring, Jane crying on the table, Skye hugging mysteriously wet soccer cleats to her chest, and the oldest sister standing at a smoking oven, that he knew exactly what to do. In the next couple of minutes, Skye’s cleats were laid across a towel on a radiator and Jane brought to the living room and given some cheese sticks. The father pulled the burning mess out of the oven, with his eldest two daughters watching intently.

“We thought it would just cook, Daddy,” Skye said, biting her fingernails. “We figured that we’ve seen you and Mommy do it so many times that we’d know what to do.”

“I know, honey. Just don’t use the oven again without me around.”

“Or Mommy, right?” Skye looked up at her father.

“Of course,” their father said, his face unreadable. “I know my girls are all very smart, but the oven gets so hot and I don’t want any of you to get burned, or for, uh, this to happen.”

“Okay,” Skye nodded. Her older sister was still looking at the charred pizza on the stove, though.

“I don’t understand why it smelled so bad,” she said.

“What do you mean?”

“The smell. We’ve burnt pizza before, when we’re cooking with Mommy, and I don’t think it’s ever smelled that bad.”

Their father frowned. “Good observation, my dear. Skye, what cheese did you use?”

Skye’s small fae scrunched up as she thought. “I don’t know,” she said. “Jane did the cheese.”

Her sister sighed and went through to the living room, where Jane was peeling her string cheese and draping it across her book. She didn’t look up when her sister walked in but said, in a sing-songy voice, “Hello, Susan Pevensie!”

“Not Susan Pevensie, and are you actually going to eat any of that?”

“Maybe,” Jane said. She dropped a strand in her mouth.

Her sister sighed. “Jane, Skye says you put the cheese on the pizza.”

“Uh huh. I did the cheese and Skye did the sauce.” Jane began dropping the rest of her cheese strings into her mouth.

“What kind of cheese did you use?”

“The tiny cheese.”

“The grated cheese in the blue bag that Daddy left on the table for you?”

Jane shook her head. “I don’t like the tiny cheese in the blue bag. I got the red bag out of the fridge.”

Her sister frowned. “We don’t have any more of the red bag. Daddy and I finished it yesterday when we made macaroni.”

“It was really far back.”

The girl bit the inside of her cheek. “Um, Jane, what did the cheese look like?”

Jane thought hard, then swallowed her cheese strips and proceeded to peel more. “Tiny,” she said.

“Was it a funny color?” The girl tried to keep the desperation out of her voice.

“It was speckly.”

The girl sighed. “Jane, why did you use speckly cheese?”

Jane’s lower lip began to wobble. “I thought it would be like how big cheese with holes in it is better than big cheese without holes in it. Tiny cheese in the red bag is the best kind, but speckled tiny cheese in the red bag is even better!” Little tears were rolling down Jane’s cheeks and she started to chew on her hair.

Her sister took her hand and led her into the kitchen to see their father peeling an apple into a long spiral.

“Daddy I put the speckled cheese in the red bag onto the pizza and now everything smells icky!” Jane wailed, running for the comfort of her father. He picked her up and held her close to his chest, her small arms wrapped tight around his neck as she cried into his shoulder.

“Daughter of mine, could you open the windows?” Mr. Penderwick laid his hand on the girls head, her messy curls poking up between his fingers. That’s what he’d taken to calling her -- “daughter of mine.” He’d smiled when she told him that she didn’t have a name yet, but she didn’t want to use her old one, and said that he was sure whatever she thought of would be perfect. He’d also lent her the book of baby names that he and her mother had used to name her and her sisters, years and years ago. The girl treasured it -- but only the first half, which she looked through whenever she felt brave enough. She never looked at the boy’s names, though, not wanting to see her old name -- her first name -- circled in black pen by her mother from all those years ago. And anyway, there were plenty of beautiful names in the girls section. The boy’s section didn’t need to matter.

She opened the kitchen window and leaned as far out as she could, enjoying the cool breeze on her face, and a smell other than burnt, moldy cheese.

In the end, the Penderwicks did have pizza that night. Soon after disposing of the mess Skye and Jane had tried to make, Mr. Penderwick ordered from Antonio’s pizza, letting Skye do the talking the way she liked to.

By the time the order came (one large cheese pizza and one medium pepper and mushroom pizza), the nights events were almost forgotten. The girl sat down at the kitchen table next to Jane and took the blue plate her father passed her with two pieces of cheese pizza on it.

Despite everything, it was a happy evening on Gardam street.

#cameron writes #the penderwicks #penderwicks #rosalind penderwick

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letsbenditlikebennett · 4 years ago

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Picnic Crashing || Ariana & Orion

TIMING: During the Sweet Dreams POTW PARTIES: @3starsquinn & @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: A mopey Ariana and Orion have a picnic. It’s crashed, quite literally.

There was a good chance that Ariana had packed entirely too much food in her picnic basket for just her and Rio to eat, but she was happy with the assortment. Plus, with all the baking Athena did and pies Kaden was sending on pretty much a weekly basis, she had a lot of treats to share. While she was still largely struggling with what her role was supposed to be and if her efforts to help were at all worth anything, she was looking forward to some quality time with Rio. There was no hiding that the Quinn twins were among her favorite people in town. More like family at this point, really, even if they were still figuring out their relationship to each other. She had a nice blanket laid out in the common and her picnic basket holding it down. When Rio approached, she put on the warmest grin she could manage and said, “Hey, I hope you’re hungry because I brought a ton of food.” She patted the spot on the blanket beside her and asked, “How’s everything been? I feel like it’s been forever.”

Backpack stuffed completely full, Orion made his way across the grass, making a beeline towards the figure off in the distance he assumed was Ariana. He hadn’t really done picnics before. He didn’t know what to bring. Plus, it wasn’t like he kept the kitchen full stocked with food. The kitchen in Skylar and Nic’s house was almost comically large compared to the amount of food that Rio kept stored in it’s cabinets. He was in way over his head in that giant house, but ironically it was cheaper living there then it would be to get a smaller place. Perks of whatever rich person had apparently bought it for them. Instead, he had stuffed his bag with some lunchmeat, bread and the most recent box of goodies he had gotten from Nate’s shop. Don’t forget to smile. He reminded himself as Ariana noticed him. He flicked his wrist into a wave and finished his trek to the blanket, “You know I’m always hungry.” He gave a thumbs up and slipped the backpack off. Lowering himself onto the blanket, Rio pulled his food from the bag and added it onto the blanket. “Oh you know, I live in a giant house with an indoor pool by myself now. That’s been pretty weird. But I guess I’m okay. How about you? And Athena?”

There was a certain sense of ease that came with spending time with Rio. He was a good friend and she had zero doubts about that. It wasn’t just that though. Ariana found it easy to just be around him. No expectations, no putting on a brave face. She could wear her feelings plainly and sit in comfortable silence with her friend. Judgment would never come, at least not from Rio who had done plenty to show he’d always be a supportive figure in her life. Today, his smile seemed to mirror her own in the sense it was more of a ghost of a smile, there simply to indicate they were in fact glad to see each other even if everything else around them seemed to be going to hell. Even so, it was easy enough to laugh along with his statement. “You and me both,” she joked before her features softened a bit. She wasn’t quite sure what happened, but living alone didn’t sound great. “When you put it like that, it sounds like I need to come over for a pool day. But that does sound like it’d be weird. Did your roommate move out? Me? I’ve been okay. A little bit of internal wrestling since my attempts to help people seem to make things worse, but like, trying to remember this town is just kind of a shit show. And Athena seems to be doing better. I know losing Amanda was hard, but she’s been hearing back from med schools. Kinda… well, I guess a little nervous to see which one she chooses. I don’t want to like ask her to stay, but also don’t really want her to go so there’s that.” She realized she was rambling a little bit and took in a deep breath as she took out some of dumplings and soup she’d made as well as a thermos full of warm green tea.

Orion was willing to admit that things had been a bit awkward since Athena and Ariana had started dating. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t erase the past memories of his sister from his mind. The things she used to say. The memory of their eighteenth birthday. Sometimes it was all too easy for Rio to replace the image of that werewolf in his mind with Ariana’s. But he did believe that Athena genuinely cared for Ariana. And despite weirdness, Rio couldn’t avoid Ariana. She was one of his closest friends, someone who he knew he could count on. And when the two hung out, things were just simple. He really enjoyed simple. “Please do. It’ll get better use if you do. I don’t really swim. But yeah she uh- left town recently.” No reason to get into the specifics of Skylar’s departure. He sighed listening to her, not pleased to hear that she hadn’t been having any easier of a time here in town. It never seemed like things would settle down. “I’m sorry. That sucks. Personally, I think you helping me has turned out super well, for the record. But I’m sorry to hear about whatever you are referring to.” Rio thought about medical school a lot too. He wasn’t convinced that Athena would ever leave White Crest. Her entire life was here, he wasn’t sure she would know what to do anywhere else. But a lot had changed since their parents had died. It was hard to tell exactly what was going through Athena’s mind anymore. “It’s hard to tell. Between you and me? I don’t think she’ll ever move out of this town. But I don’t exactly know her as well as I used to.” He lost focus of the conversation as she unpacked more food and he caught onto the smell, “Holy crap that smells so good. I’m so excited to eat.”

There was a big part of Ariana that still wanted to bridge the gap between Athena and Rio so they could all enjoy days out together like this, but the steps they were already taken, those were big. And they were enough. Maybe one day things would be easier, for now, she was just going to bask in the simplicity their time together brought. She took a sip of her green tea and slowly nodded as Rio spoke. Pool sounded fun, roommate moving out, not so much. Two times in a row at that had to be pretty rough. “I’m sorry, that she left. That’s gotta suck. I’ll come over soon then… and not just for the indoor pool.” She gave a small nudge with the last part of her sentence before she began nibbling on some of the food. It was a nice little reminder from Rio that not all her efforts to help were for not. Even if they were more in the way of friendship and not any of the crazy crap White Crest threw at them. “Yeah, maybe you’re right,” she agreed not wanting to contemplate it too much on a day where they were supposed to be enjoying themselves, “This town just… it’s hard. But you know that.” Being reassured that Athena wasn’t likely to leave helped a little though. The thought of saying goodbye had made her a bit nervous throughout her girlfriend’s interview process. She wanted the best for Athena, but she also wanted to be by her side. It’d be nice if those two things lined up. “I kind of hope that’s the case. I want her to live her dreams, I’d just… I’d miss her a lot.” She shrugged lightly not wanting to get too caught up in her worries when she heard a loud thud. Her head whipped up as she saw a bicycle colliding with a tree. “Holy shit,” she muttered, “That’s not what you…” She trailed off as she realized the young man wasn’t getting up. She jumped up from the ground instinctively and ran over to him. There wasn’t blood and he had a helmet on, but he was just… out? “Uh, Rio. I don’t think he’s,” she focused on his heartbeat, it was relaxed, “He’s alive but, I don’t know what’s wrong. We should call an ambulance right?”

“Nah. It’s okay.” Orion lied. He believed what he said. He was happy Skye left. This town had hurt her, in ways that are hard to recover from. He knew that she could do it. He also knew that to do so was probably a lot easier away from town. He at least loved the idea of Ariana hanging out at the house. The place was far too big for just him. But for as much as it made sense for Skye to leave, Rio couldn’t comprehend the idea of Athena ever leaving town. He expected her to live and die in this town. Just as his parents had. Then again, she never expected Athena to gut their mom either. So his sister had surprised him in more than one way. Still, it felt weird that so much had changed. Rio always thought he was the one desperate to get away. “You think you’ll ever leave?” It was a genuine question. Ariana hadn’t spent her entire life here. She had managed to find some charm in this terrifying town. He wondered how long it would last. Any chance at eating or discussing was distracted by the man crashing into the tree. He jumped up and followed behind her, rushing to his side to check on him. “If he’s breathing then what happened?” Rio questioned, still thankful that he was alive. “Right. Yeah. 911. Calling now. See if you can wake him up?” Rio suggested as he dialed and pulled the phone up to his ear.

“I’m not too sure. I’d like to think she has reasons to want to stay here, but I don’t want to hold her back either,” Ariana answered honestly. Normally, she would flat out ask Athena, but with things at least being mostly calm, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer. Thankfully, there wasn’t too much time to think on that with the bicycle collision. Both Ari and Rio were quick on their feet though hearing the heartbeat only did so much to calm her as Rio called 911. She nudged the young man and loudly said, “Hey, hey, bro-- wake up!” But he was out like a light. There wasn’t even the slightest flinch as she shook at his shoulders. No indication that he could even hear what they were saying or feel her touch. “Something… something doesn’t feel right here, Rio.” Outside of some scrapes from falling off the bike, he seemed to just be asleep. Was her on drugs or something? She began rummaging through his jacket pockets but only found a wallet. A wallet with nothing out of the ordinary about it. “His name is Leon Torres. Uhm…. born 1998? That’d make him 23? 22?”

Orion rambled quickly, a bad habit in general made even worse by the stress of talking to a 911 operator. “We uh- are at the park. And he ran into a tree and he’s not waking up and-” Luckily, the operator was much more level headed than he was and cut in to ask questions from time to time. “It doesn’t look like he’s too badly injured. I don’t see any excessive bleeding. He’s not waking up but he’s alive.” He hadn’t actually checked the man’s pulse officially, but he could hear the heartbeat. If he had to guess, that was one of the first things Ariana had checked for as well. “Okay. Okay. Thanks.” Rio hung up the phone and hugged it against his chest as he crossed his arms, “An ambulance is on their way. She uh- sounded pretty confused.” That made three of them. Clearly, Ariana was just as lost as Rio and the 911 operator had been. It didn’t exactly seem feasible that somebody fell asleep while reading a bike and now wouldn’t wake up. “Yeah uh- it’s pretty weird.” Rio hovered awkwardly above Ariana. He didn’t know how to help or if he was just getting in her way. “Yeah. Not exactly prime age for randomly going into a coma while on a bike ride.” He mused, glancing around the park looking to see if he saw anybody or anything around. This felt supernatural. “Could it be a spell? Some kind of drug or poison?”

Ariana kept her focus on Leon’s heartbeat. It was slow and steady, but not so slow that she’d think he was dying. The rhythm was similar to that of a peaceful sleep. Normally, it was something she found calming, but given the more than perplexing circumstances, she found herself trying not to panic. Nothing about this seemed natural and that meant it was unlikely a human doctor could do much of anything for him. She could vaguely pick up on Rio’s rambling, something she normally found endearing now only furthering the sinking feeling in her stomach. “Good, they can at least monitor him. I don’t,” she trailed off and looked him over yet again. Outside of some bruises forming and minor scrapes from the crash, there was nothing indicative of injury on his body. No signs that pointed to anything in particular. No scent on him that could give them some sort of clue on what the hell was happening here. Rio was onto something with the idea of a spell or drug though. That seemed much more feasible than a 20-something year old just falling into a deep sleep while riding their bicycle. “It has to be. Why else would he just- We could look through your books or something? I don’t know a lot about magic or drug… or human health conditions.” She hated problems like this. If she had her way, all of her problems would be one she could throw fists or claws at and call it day. Unfortunately, life rarely worked like that and she felt frustration building up within her. She wanted to punch… something. Anything, really, but she breathed instead. First in shallow breaths until they evened out into something deeper and she could fight the urge to beat up a tree. “We’ll see what we can look into after the ambulance gets here. It has to be something.”

Orion hoped that the ambulance hurried. Despite the man seemingly being alive, this still wasn’t normal. Rio would feel a lot better once the man was in medical hands. Though if this was supernatural then maybe they wouldn’t be able to help him either. Still, it had to be better than just standing over the man’s unconscious body with no idea what to do. Ariana was right, they would be more useful doing some research on this while he stayed under a hospital’s care. “Yeah. Good idea. Humans have some uh- weird medical things. But this seems especially weird.” Rio spoke as if he wasn’t a human himself. Most times, he didn’t really feel like he was. Rio glanced around the park. If this was some kind of spell, wouldn’t the caster have to be somewhere around here? Maybe proximity didn’t matter. His ears perked at the very faint sounds of sirens. “I think they’re on their way. Hopefully it shouldn't be too much longer.” And after they were gone, the two would probably have to pack everything up and head for the Scribe building. “So much for the picnic I guess, huh?”

In any other situation, Ariana might have laughed at Rio referring to humans as if he wasn’t one himself. She was pretty sure hunters still considered themselves human in the same way spellcasters did. Not that it was something she’d ever thought to ask before now. “Kind of hope it’s one of the weird medical things as opposed to… well, you know. White Crest brand of weird things,” she said softly, still keeping a close ear out for his heartbeat that was still steadily trucking on. They were still going to do their research anyway, but medical seemed so much easier to fix though any sort of medical condition that essentially put an otherwise healthy appearing 22 year old into a dead sleep was alarming. As she started hearing the sirens in the distance, she felt a little more at ease. Monitoring a human to make sure they were alive was high key stressful and she’d much rather be reading a bunch of Rio’s old books… which was saying something considering she hated reading. “Yeah, picnic vibes are pretty dead now. We can snack and research? Keep it real, sleuthy,” she responded with an awkward laugh. The whole fun friend day thing was pretty much ruined. Not that she was sure it was ever really ago in the first place considering they both seemed to be bummed out about other things. As the ambulance approached, she waved to get their attention and did her best to explain what happened. They all seemed just as confused as she and Rio had been. That didn’t leave her with much hope it was in fact medical. “Yeah, he seemed to be just riding his bike normally then sort of just crashed into the tree and isn’t waking up. His pulse seems steady.”

It was almost pathetic that Orion and Ariana immediately went to something supernatural for the cause of the collapse. He realized with a wicked sense of irony that a regular medical mishap might actually be more surprising than something supernatural. If it didn’t feel so disrespectful standing over top of the man, Rio might have had to sarcastically laugh. That, or hysterically cry. For some reason, the line between the two always seemed alarmingly thin. “Snack and research sounds great.” Rio agreed, thankful that the food wasn’t going to completely go to waste. The ambulance arrived, either incredibly quickly or time flew by when they were stressed. Ariana took charge immediately, describing the situation Rio slipped away from the group to head back towards the picnic set up they had abandoned. He worked on packing up the area, glancing over from time to time to check on Ariana. The looks on the EMT’s faces were particularly comforting. He finished packing things up and made his way back over to Ariana as they began to load him into the ambulance. “I hope he’s okay” He wished he could offer more wisdom than that, but all he had was well wishes and motivation to try to find the answer to whatever caused this. “I got everything ready to go.”

After a quick rundown of what happened, the ambulance and Leon were off to the hospital. Ariana watched warily for a moment before she walked back over to Rio. The same reason that made this little Maine town perfect for someone like her made it dangerous for so many others, dangerous for herself even. It was hard not to feel a certain sense of disenchantment for a place she was once determined to make home, but all the same, she couldn’t imagine ever leaving. There were far too many people she cared for so that meant she had to do her part in making it better. She grabbed some of their stuff that Rio had packed up and said, “Thanks, I’ll drive. Hopefully we can find something.” It was a big thing to hope, but she wanted to help. Really help. Somehow, it didn’t help that the possibilities were truly endless, but at least they could try. And if anything, at least they wouldn’t be alone.

#wickedswriting #rio #picnic crashing #// cody is a gem rio is a gem #this is v dated don't look @ me

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moonchopsticks-old · 4 years ago

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just finished aa4 and really liked it! quick thoughts:

-apollo has quickly become one of my favorite characters in aa! he really struck that sweet spot between admirable and endearing for me--a hardworking, quick-thinking young man, who grew up as an orphan and clawed his way up to success and a new family in the wrights, and who’s also unrelentingly snarky, can’t whisper for his life, is terrified of heights, and cries over people that he hardly knows. what a dork, i love him. i think they leaned a little heavily on the ‘greenhorn’ aspect of his personality-- quite a few moments where there were things i had figured out but wasn’t allowed to do anything with until another character jumped in and was like “apollo u sweet summer child THIS is the answer”. also i spoiled myself a little and i know that the next two games have “traumatize apollo” as a running theme so a little apprehensive and hoping they at least develop his character well or smth

-mixed feelings about the ‘perceive’ mechanic bc narratively it’s cool as hell but it was frustrating to crawl through the text looking around for a very slight change in the zoomed-in sprite, especially if it wasn’t clear what they’re fibbing about which is very often. had to use a guide on those parts pretty often. also it’s just like “hey you were twitching! you’re obviously hiding something!” “oh gee you caught me i’ll spill the beans” like i feel like it could’ve been a little more subtle or gradual, idk.

- love apollo and trucy’s relationship so much!! their banter is so cute and funny and they pull off the straight man/funny man routine really well. ik nick and maya have a similar thing but the vibes were just different, for some reason. they had very strong sibling vibes (even before the reveal), which i loved. them being half-siblings was pretty contrived (like a lot of things in this game and this series lmao) but i dont really mind too much

-on a related note, why can’t they know that they’re siblings. when’s the “right time” to tell them. why can’t they just reunite with their mother who has her memories back and loves them. phoenix wh

-on another related note i can understand how jaded and disillusioned phoenix got after he got disbarred but i honestly didn’t like the whole “mysterious cryptic mentor playing 4d chess” schtick that the game pulled. it feels ooc, especially considering you briefly play as present-day him in the final case and his internal monologue doesn’t seem too different from original trilogy phoenix, or at least the phoenix you see before disbarment in the final case (although i was rly invested in finishing up the case and wasn’t paying that much attention to phoenix’s characterization specifically, so i might’ve missed stuff). phoenix’s arc of growth was great and complete in t&t and it feels like they just...gave him a whole new personality. also phoenix goes back to being a lawyer in the next two games...does he just revert back to being regular ol phoenix? idk, maybe i’m missing some stuff right after my first playthrough but it just felt weird.

-plot was really convoluted and contrived even for ace attorney (havent played aa5 or 6 yet, so idk if it gets worse). lamiroir just happened to be apollo and trucy’s mom, if zak had just been frank with phoenix and given the original diary page to him OR valant hadn’t tampered with the crime scene this whole thing could’ve been avoided. why did zak want to take down phoenix in poker to the extent of planting cards on him to make it look like he cheated when phoenix was the one who defended him in court and he’s the one taking care of his daughter??

-way too many flashbacks to things that happened 5 real life minutes ago

-g u i t a r ‘ s s e r e n a d e

-kind of wish they had done more with trucy. i liked her but i feel like there was potential, especially since the game implies that she’s putting on a brave front for apollo, and i wish they had expanded on that a little more. like....her birth father who had been presumed dead for years ends up being alive right up until mere months before the reveal. she’s the one that ends up delivering the forged evidence into phoenix’s hands as a child, even though she was completely unaware of it at the time. she and phoenix latch onto each other pretty quickly, which was very cute, but we get little insight to how she thinks of her biological father, who we can tell she loved and misses but not much else. maybe i’m just digging for angst, idk, but it still felt like there could’ve been more. (also i really wanted more phoenix-being-a-dad content!! be a dad to ur daughter sir!!)

-klavier was pretty good! it was refreshing to have a prosecutor that wasn’t after ‘perfection’ or had a vendetta against defense attorneys/the protag, but he still managed to come off as a competent opponent. his whole rockstar persona was very cheesy but i liked it lol. (also really hilarious to me that the third case starts with him giving discounted tickets to trucy and apollo, his opponents in actual legal court) also i knew people shipped him and apollo but i wasn’t expected the game to be so forthright with it. like how else are you supposed to interpret klavier saying “i’m used to being inspected by the ladies but this is the first time ive felt like this with a man”????

-ema skye!!! loved her and glad to see her in a spotlight role but it was just kind of sad seeing her perpetually grumpy. ik people didn’t like that there were so many forensic touchpad/mic minigames but i didn’t really mind it, they were kinda fun if sometimes a little tedious

-i for sure thought that valant had been directly involved with the murder in turnabout serenade (my initial theory was that valant was masquerading as daryan during set 3 while daryan shot letouse, which was why 2nd guitar was off during the recording). also i hated daryan’s hair, why does he have a military grade skunk torpedo on his head,

-wright anything agency adopt vera challenge

-this has already gone on long enough so tl;dr solid 7.5/10 would play again once i forget what happens a little bit

#my echo chamber #long post #wow this ended up being a lot longer than i expected #now let me dispense my thoughts that nobody cares about into the void of tumblr....be well.....#ace attorney #aa4 #ace attorney spoilers #i liked this game a lot but i think og trilogy still has my heart #characters were great here but i really miss maya and gumshoe and edgeworth and original flavor phoenix....#been watching press buttons and talk's playthrough of it while i do work and it's honestly golden

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scapegrace74-blog · 4 years ago

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Saorsa, Chapter 22

A/N Here is the next installment of Saorsa. At long last, after dragging things out for 21 chapters (21!), I’m finally sending Jamie and Claire on their honeymoon, with all the bow-chicka-wow-wow that implies. Although it’s pretty tame, by my smut standards. Why am I still writing? Go read it!

Rather than link to all previously posted chapters, I’ll just direct those of you wanting to catch up on your Saorsa-reading to my AO3 page, where the fic is posted in its entirety.

Thank you to each of you liking and reblogging! It does my little fanfic writer’s heart good.

The honeymoon was Claire’s idea. After two weeks of painfully polite coexistence in which she felt they were both acting the parts of a newly married couple for an audience of two, she suggested the getaway. Jamie had never heard of such a thing. She insisted time spent cloistered away from their everyday lives was now the norm for newlyweds, and he begrudgingly agreed. They left as soon as Murtagh returned from his visit home to the Isle of Lewis.

Jamie was an uneasy automobile passenger, and he refused to learn how to drive, so it was Claire who navigated onto the ferry that crossed the narrow channel to the Isle of Skye.

“Are you alright?” she asked as Jamie clutched the door handle in a white knuckled grip.

“Aye. Jus’ no’ fond of ships, is all,” he answered, eyes pointed out the windshield as though he could bring the looming island closer with the strength of his stare.

“Just a few more minutes, an duine agam,” she assured, taking his clammy right hand in her left.

“Who’s been teachin’ ye Gàidhlig, Sassenach?” he asked, distracted from imminent sea sickness.

“Murtagh. Just a few words, here and there. I thought it would be useful, so I could speak it to the baby once he or she is born.” As it usually did, her free hand came to rest on the softly rounded swell of her belly when she spoke of her child.

There was silence from the passenger’s seat. She glanced over only to be met by a look of stunning intensity. She felt naked before so much bridled emotion, but she could not break away. The only movement between the two of them was the clenching of a muscle high in his jaw.

“Claire, I…”

Whatever Jamie was about to say, it was interrupted by the shunt of the ferry as it met the shore. They both looked away, and the moment was gone.

The drive to their inn at Dunvegan was shrouded in low-lying clouds. She could just make out the lower slopes of mountains robed in snow. Jamie had once again fallen silent but seemed content to gaze at the passing scenery. She parked carefully on the side of the main road in the tiny village, just two lines of tidy single-story stone cottages, a café and their inn.

Jamie rose awkwardly from the car and stretched before walking to the boot to gather their shared suitcase. As he did, a pair of women exited a nearby cottage, talking in loud, animated voices. He froze, then spun around.

The women turned right at the pavement and continued walking and chatting. Seeing the tall, handsome red-haired man standing near their path, they both uttered a polite “feasgar math” before continuing on their way.

“Feasgar math,” he responded belatedly, bowing slightly at the waist out of habit. He turned around, slack-jawed, as the scene came into sharper focus. The signage above the café and inn was in Gaelic. There were horseshoes hung above every door and tartan decorations festooned a nearby fence. Sheep bleated from the fields beyond. Apart from their car and another parked across the street, nothing in view would have been out of place two centuries before.

She stepped onto the pavement beside Jamie and touched his chest.

“You see? The Highland culture did not die. It fled, far to the north and over the sea, but it survived. Here,” she gestured around them. “And here,” pressing her hand against his breastbone. “It takes something tremendously resilient to face that sort of hardship and endure.”

Jamie’s mouth moved, but no sound came out. She could see that he was struggling against tears.

“Come on. Let’s check into our room, and then you can show me around.”

The matronly innkeeper greeted them in a waterfall of Gaelic, to which Jamie answered in kind. He seemed taller suddenly, although perhaps it was the low, timber-beamed ceiling that made him appear so. She heard him say “Claire Fraser, mo bhean”, while looking at her with pride.

If the innkeeper thought it strange that the tall Scot and his obviously pregnant English wife were making heart-eyes at each other across her lobby, she did not let on. She led them up a steep stairwell into a hallway so low that Jamie had to duck to avoid banging his head. At one end was a gabled room with a merry fire already lit. It wasn’t large, having room for just an immense four-posted bed, two wooden chairs facing the fire, and a window with views across the slate roofs to the slate-grey sea beyond.

Thanking their hostess and promising to come downstairs later for tea, they stood facing each other from across the room with nervous expressions. It was strange. They had shared the laird’s bed chamber in the days since their wedding, but the idea of being alone in this strange room felt more intimate. There were no routines or distractions to mask the fact that they were now man and wife.

Jamie spent an inordinate amount of time placing their luggage on a low stool, and then stared out the window like he was searching for answers.

“Did you want to take a walk down to the castle?” she suggested timidly.

“Aye,” he agreed eagerly. “Tis a braw day for a ramble.”

She glanced at the fine drizzle that had begun to fall, shrugged and grabbed her Macintosh.

Jamie was like a giddy schoolboy upon entering the ancestral seat of Clan MacLeod. The castle itself was not open to visitors, but they had the grounds to themselves. He capered about the battlements, pointing out one feature after another.

“What eejit built those turrets? They’re no’ big enough for a wee lad to enter, ne’er mind a marksman,” he commented, looking up at the main stronghold’s façade.

“I imagine they were added recently, merely for decoration,” she replied, smiling at his outraged tone. “I understand the current Chief Macleod made significant improvements, prior to the war.” Jamie replied with a truly Scottish noise that expressed dubiousness and concession in a single, guttural sound. He spun around, taking in the whole view.

“I always heard it was the bonniest castle in all of Scotland, but I dinna believe it. Now that I see it wi’ my own eyes, weel…” Jamie scuffed his boot on the gritty rock, looking guilty for a moment. “I still prefer Lallybroch, ye ken, but this, this is…” he trailed off, at a loss for words.

Jamie face grew pensive, a deep furrow bisecting his brow.

“What is it?” she asked, stepping closer.

“It’s only… Tormod MacLeod fought on the side of the English at Culloden. I didna ken it at the time, but I read in yer husband’s books that the MacLeod attacked the lands of Jacobite supporters after the Rising, causing much suffering. And yet here their laird abides, twa hundred years on, while the Frasers are nought but names on graves…”

She stepped towards him, wrapping an arm carefully around his broad back.

“Listen to me, James Fraser. You fought bravely for a cause that you believed in, even though you knew the odds were overwhelmingly against you. There is honour in that, and honour is stronger than any castle wall. Also, you are my husband now. I’d thank you to remember that.”

He wrapped an arm around her slim shoulders in return. “Duly noted, Sassenach.”

They stood there in the drizzle, leaning slightly into each other until she interrupted the moment with a vital clarification.

“Oh, and Jamie? I never said that a laird lived in this castle.”

He leaned back to gaze at her face, eyebrows lowered in confusion.

“Flora MacLeod of MacLeod, twenty-eighth clan chief of the MacLeod since her father passed away in 1935.” She grinned smugly, watching the perplexity transform to amazement on his expressive face. He let forth a burst of laughter.

“Dhia, I hope she looks fairer in a kilt than Tormod. That man was a hairy beast.”

After a light meal of crusty bread, sheep’s milk cheese, dried sausage, and tea for Claire (“why do ye English insist on polluting water wi’ wee leaves, Sassenach?”), they retired to their room to warm themselves in front of the fire.

Jamie was quiet again, pulling at his lip as he stared into the flames. She sensed he was working something through in his mind and gave him room for silence. She allowed the warmth and crackling pop of green logs lull her into a state of suspended awareness.

“I havena been entirely truthful wi’ ye, Sassenach, and tis vexing me greatly,” Jamie began without taking his eyes from the fire. Her stomach dropped, trying to imagine what fact was so awful that even his absolute candor bowed to the demand that it remain unspoken.

“When I asked ye tae be my wife, I told ye it was on account of yer bairn, how t’would be… practical for me tae be its Da, and tae help ye in the running of Lallybroch.”

“Yes. I remember,” she said hesitantly. “It’s a little late for second thoughts, Jamie. The Catholic Church isn’t any fonder of divorce than they were two hundred years ago...”

“Ifrinn. That’s no’ what I mean at all. Christ, Claire, would ye let a man speak for once!” He rose and began pacing the small room in tight circles. His speech hurried to catch the cadence of his steps.

“Tis no’ that the reasons I gave were untrue. Tis just that t’werenna the only ones. No’ even the main one. I asked ye tae be marrit, weel, because I wanted tae be yer husband.”

Running out of words, he stopped near the bed and looked at her. At his apparent inability to continue, she ventured, “You are my husband, Jamie. And I’m very grateful for…”

“No’ a husband in body. Only a husband in name.”

“Oh,” she breathed. “Oh!” She felt her cheeks reddening, even warmer than the glow of the fire. “Are you saying that you would want to be a husband… in body… to me?”

“Aye. Och, look at ye, Sassenach. What man wouldna want tae lie wi’ ye? I’m only mortal.”

She tried to imagine how she looked to Jamie. She was wearing a practical cotton dress, cut a little loose to accommodate her expanding waist. Her cheeks were no doubt flushed from the walk in the rain, the fire, and Jamie’s sudden revelation. She was certain her head was surrounded by a veritable Gorgon of curls.

His confession expelled, Jamie was once again able to meet her eyes, and what she saw there ignited a spark inside her that she was certain had been extinguished forever. She rose gracefully and made her way to where he was standing. In her stocking feet, she had to look up into his face. When she did, she felt electricity prickle her skin.

“Well, it is our honeymoon. I suppose it would be the… traditional thing to do.”

Her hand came to rest on Jamie’s damp linen shirt. Underneath, she could feel his heat and the tremor of muscles held tightly in check. A broad palm cupped her hip.

“I dinna mean this verra minute, Claire. Ye can take yer time tae consider. And wi’ the bairn…”

She ignored him, plucking gently at the fabric. “Your shirt is damp. You’ll catch a chill. You should hang it… by the fire…” she finished as he disposed of the offending clothing in a single move. Her hand now was free to rest against bare, gold-hued flesh.

She paced a tight circle around his body, stopping behind him where the firelight and shadows emphasized the lacerated surface of his back. Jamie’s shoulders stopped rising and falling as he held his breath, obviously nervous for his scars to be so closely observed. Before he could comment or grow restive, she pressed a careful kiss along his spine, teasing her fingertips over the sensitive skin of his flank as she completed her turn.

“Yer dress is wet as weel, Sassenach. I wouldna wish ye tae fall ill.” His voice, deep normally, was positively cavernous, pulling her pulse deep into her belly.

She spun away and lifted her hair from her neck, presenting the zipper. After a moment’s pause, Jamie’s fingers fluttered across her nape.

“What do I do?” he asked in an entirely different tone. Gone was his brash confidence, and she reminded herself anew that he was only twenty-two, five years her junior, and came from a world unaffected by modern notions of love or sex. Not wanting to embarrass him by calling attention to his inexperience, real or perceived, she determined that if Jamie was in want of guidance, he’d ask. As he had just done.

“You pull downwards on the little tab. It’s called a zipper,” she whispered back. A metallic tearing noise, and her dress loosened. Moist breath blew against the tiny hairs of her back, causing them to rise in greeting.

“Verra practical wee fastening, Sassenach,” he muttered as the garment cleaved in two, held up by the precarious slopes of her shoulders.

She turned back to him, and the sparks in his eyes rivalled those in the hearth, hot as ingots with a pulsing blue glow. A ratchety breath stuttered from her lungs.

“Ye dinna have tae do this, mo bhean ghaoil. Imma verra patient man. I’ve already bided twa hundred years just tae meet ye.”

Her lips twitched at his beautiful, though not entirely accurate gallantry.

“Mo bhean ghaoil?” she asked as she let first one, then the other shoulder dip. Her dress fell easily to the floor.

“My beautiful wife.” The words withered away to air as the vision of her body unfolded before him. Undulating ribbons of amber and shadow caressed the ivory of her skin, broken by the pale satin of her long line bra and maternity girdle.

“That’s where ye’ve been hiding yer corset,” Jamie muttered, half to himself. They were both drawing hungry lungfuls of breath, the space between them fraught with an oncoming storm.

Very slowly, as though certain she would startle and flee, he raised an outstretched hand until it met her breastbone with the pressure of a feather. She could feel the tremors that shook within him as he dragged each fingertip downward until they gathered in the warm valley between her breasts. The air in the room suddenly felt thick, too heavy to breathe.

Just as it seemed Jamie’s hand was about to venture below the edge of her undergarments, a memory assaulted her addled senses. Jamie, unknown to her as anything other than a mysterious and gravely injured patient, lay sleeping on his side in her room at Lallybroch. He was still fevered, and she had lowered the sheet to his waist, allowing night air to caress his wounded back. The firelight caught the powerful lines of his shoulder and pectorals, lighting each russet hair that bisected his torso so that he glowed like a lazy sunrise. She had been flooded by a sudden desire to know where that trail of hair led.

“It’s my turn,” she asserted, reaching for the belt holding up his trousers.

The buckle clattered to the floor without heed as Jamie pulled her roughly upwards into his descending mouth. It was a kiss without introduction or politeness, a tactical assault on her senses launched through the breach of his open mouth. It bore no relation to the few chaste kisses they had thus far shared as man and wife. She had evidently pushed him past the breaking point of his ingrained courteous behaviour.

They parted, stunned speechless, wet mouths agape. He angrily pushed his trousers past his hips and the two collapsed onto the high mattress in an inelegant flop, limbs battling and grasping anywhere for purchase. Her legs fell open instinctively to cradle the long, muscular arc of his body. A cool button nudged her inner thigh. Calloused hands pushed desperately on the unyielding structure of her girdle. A coarse abrasion between her legs. Heat. And then an urgent plunge, both familiar and foreign.

His forehead was pushed into the pillow above her shoulder. Untutored, laboured grunts echoed in her ears.

“Jamie,” she gasped. “Jamie, you’re crushing me.”

He rose immediately onto his elbows, relieving the grinding pressure on her chest, but seemed unable to halt the tidal surge of his body into hers. In a moment, it was moot. He froze, letting loose a shuddering moan that scaled his spine one vertebra at a time. Collapsing sideways onto his back, his face was a portrait of mute astonishment.

She lay beside him, staring at the beamed ceiling, and tried to gather her thoughts. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t invited this very thing. And while the… encounter had been ephemerally brief, she could not deny that she’d enjoyed it. Enjoyed being the recipient of so much passion, no matter how short-lived.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jamie’s ring finger bouncing, tapping a morse code of disquiet against his chest. Awkwardness was a palpable third presence in the bed between them. She wanted to say something to ease his nerves, but words floated away as she tried to wrangle them into coherent sentences.

“Claire, I… please tell me I didna hurt ye. Ye or the bairn.”

His quiet anguish snapped the cord that had been holding her tongue still in her mouth.

“No. Jamie, of course not. I would have said something, if you had.”

“I didna ken it would be sae… fierce,” he confessed.

That certainly answered her earlier question about his prior experience. She couldn’t help feeling a flutter of… something… deep in her belly at the thought.

“It can be. But my body is designed to protect the baby. It will probably become more awkward, as I grow larger. I’ll tell you, if anything doesn’t feel…nice.”

Jamie rose on an elbow, peering down at her. His face was now alight with novice curiosity.

“Ye liked it then? Men gossip about these things, ye ken, and I had heard that most women dinna like it.”

It was too late, and her nerves were too taxed to launch into a conversation about female sexual pleasure and a man’s role in assuring it. She hazarded it was a better lesson to learn by example, in any event. But she didn’t want him to go to sleep disappointed in himself.

Instead she told him the truth.

“I did like it, Jamie. Very much. I’m tired now, but perhaps in the morning…?”

He grinned like a Cheshire cat. Shucking his trousers carelessly, he splayed naked across the bed with his hands tucked behind his head, looking for all the world like a piece of toppled Grecian statuary. It suddenly hurt to breath. The simmering warmth low in her belly threatened to burst into flame, but she was truly exhausted. What she needed most was sleep.

Turning modestly aside, she unhooked her bra and unzipped her girdle before quickly donning a white nightdress. She could feel Jamie’s eyes run over the bared skin of her back.

“Cuir stad air do cheann, Sassenach,” he said softly as she once again settled beside him.

He lay behind her, fingers trailing through her hair and down her arms like spider webs. She fell asleep to his quiet Gaelic mutterings, a lilting lullaby.

an duine agam - my husband

feasgar math - good afternoon

mo bhean - my wife

mo bhean ghaoil - my beautiful wife

Cuir stad air do cheann - Rest your head

#outlander #my writing

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ila9182 · 5 years ago

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Hey! Can I ask for prompt 34, for the dialogue thing? Thank you 💜

Thank you so much @allons-y--spaceman for the prompt! I’m sorry it took me so long to write it. I know it has been months, but with all the mess happening in the world right now and some of my own issues, I haven’t been able to write. I’m not happy with the prompt: this is very far from what I used to write (both grammatically and creatively speaking), but I can’t do better right now. I just hope it doesn’t suck too much.

So here’s the prompt. It’s taking place right after the Christmas Party (3x15 Chain Reaction) and I was originally inspired (then kinda lost my inspiration) by a song “Love Show” by Skye. You’ll find some of the lyrics in the story as well! I hope you’ll enjoy this prompt even if it isn’t really good...

34. “I might never get another chance to say this.”

Sharon sighed happily as she looked around her office, making sure nothing was out of place. Her eyes fell on the report she had been writing up before Andy interrupted her with a knock on the door a few hours ago.

“You know, if you can't make it home for the holidays maybe home can come to you.”

A smile crossed Sharon’s features. Andy. He had surprised her with a Christmas party in the break room with her team and her children. It was all his doing – Ricky confirmed it to her during the party – and she had felt and still felt overwhelmed by his thoughtful gesture. Andy. He had shown himself to be a trustworthy friend in the last three years. He had been there for her; a silent support during a bad day, a hand on her shoulder when they worked a tough case, an encouraging smile before a meeting with the Chief, a wink during one of Provenza’s rants. He was always there. Sharon couldn’t believe how far they had come; if someone would have told her a few years ago when she was still working in FID that the hotheaded Lieutenant Flynn would have become one of her closest friends, she would have laughed at the absurdity of the situation. It wasn’t an absurd thought anymore. Without even noticing, Andy had become a constant in her life and Sharon realized she couldn’t picture a life without him in it.

Sharon grabbed her purse and glanced one last time at her desk before she left her office. She closed the door and turned to leave when she noticed Andy walking toward her. Sharon smiled at Andy and he told her, “Okay, so the Christmas Village is safely packed in your car as well as some leftovers. I tried to convince Ricky to leave the Christmas Village in the break room for the holiday, needless to say he didn’t like this suggestion at all.” He shrugged, a grin crossing his features.

Sharon chuckled and covered her mouth with a hand before replying, “After I threw his old pinecone elves away, I think Ricky won’t trust anyone with his Christmas decorations anymore.”

Andy laughed softly and shook his head. “Now I understand why the poor guy was so worried every piece was wrapped up with care.”

Sharon rolled her eyes and chuckled once again. This was so Ricky she wasn’t even surprised. She could see her son bossing everyone around about handling the Christmas decorations with care. Sharon met Andy’s gaze again and she told him with a grateful smile, “Andy, thank you for everything… for setting up this party, for bringing the kids here, for helping Ricky with the Christmas Village…”

“…that you left in the storage.” Andy cut her short with one of his renowned grins. “Believe me, you’ll never hear the end of it. He’s a sensitive kid, you know.” Sharon rolled her eyes and Andy squeezed her arm, his face turning serious while a soft smile graced his features, “It was a pleasure, Sharon. I know you were upset you couldn’t be home with the kids… I just wanted to do something nice for you… for all of you.”

“Thank you.” Sharon repeated, her tone wavering with emotion while moisture clouded briefly her eyes. She blinked it away and regained her composure quickly as she went on, “And thank you for the present. You didn’t have to get me anything, Andy.” She told him in a serious tone before a smile reached her eyes and she added, “I love it.”

“I’m glad you do.” Andy replied softly.

They stared at each other in silence for a few seconds until Sharon cleared her throat. She ran a hand through her hair and readjusted her purse on her shoulder before she whispered to him, “Merry Christmas, Andy.”

Andy offered her a smile as Sharon let go of his upper arm with one last squeeze and started walking away. He shifted the weight from a foot to another as he watched her walk away and pondered whether or not he should speak. He felt suddenly brave enough – or maybe he was just being foolish – when he called to her, “Sharon?”

Sharon stopped and turned around gracefully, a smile still lighting up her face, “Yes?” She asked him.

Andy opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. He suddenly wasn’t brave anymore. As he stared at her green questioning eyes, any strength he felt before was gone. “Uhm, I…” He fumbled, unable to get intelligible words out of his mouth.

Sharon arched an eyebrow. “Is everything okay, Andy?” She asked him softly. She could sense his sudden uneasiness and she couldn’t quite explain the change of mood between them.

“Uhm, yes, yes…” Andy let out quickly, suddenly short of breath. “But listen, I…” He paused and looked away from her insisting stare. “I might never get another chance to say this.”

Sharon studied him with a worried look. She walked back to him slowly, her eyes never leaving his figure as Andy started fidgeting with his hands. He was still carefully avoiding her gaze and Sharon couldn’t help but worry. “Andy, what…”

Andy stopped her with a hand gesture. He took a deep breath and met her gaze hesitantly when he started, “Sharon, you… you’re very important to me.” He finally managed to say.

An endearing smile graced Sharon’s lips as she closed the gap between them and put a hand on his arm. “You’re very important to me too, Andy.” Sharon replied softly.

Andy looked at her in the eyes and rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “Uhm yeah, but I mean…” He fumbled uncomfortably. “It’s just that… uhm… you’re important to me more than a friend… more than a best friend, more than…” He was rambling, he knew it. He glanced at Sharon and she was still staring at him silently, her hand still on his upper arm. He had to get to the point. “Uhm what I’m trying to say is… I…” Andy paused before he finally blurted out, “I’m in love with you, Sharon.”

Andy met her eyes carefully and he was surprised to find Sharon staring blankly at him. He couldn’t read her face and the fact that she seemed now emotionless worried him. She let go of his arm out of the blue and took a step back before telling him, “I have to go. I don’t want to keep my children waiting.”

Andy knew she was running away. He knew it was her way to escape an emotional situation she couldn’t deal with. He knew it, but it didn’t hurt less. He tried to reach out for her but she was already too far away from him. “Sharon…”

“I need to go.” Sharon muttered before looking down and turning her back to him, “Thank you again, Andy.” She whispered as she was already walking away.

-------------You don't know somebody's aching keeping it all in… ----------------

Sharon stood lost in her own thoughts as the Christmas tree lights reflected off her face. She brushed her thumbs over the small green package she was holding in her hands and her mind drifted to Andy’s confession in the Murder Room. She had run away, leaving him there alone when he had exposed the most vulnerable part of him to her. Andy deserved to be treated better, he deserved better than this. He deserved better than her.

Sharon opened the package to reveal an angel ornament. It shined beautifully in the box; a delicate crystal figure with a golden halo. Andy couldn’t have chosen a better gift; he knew her too well.

“It’s beautiful, Mom…” Emily whispered as she peeked over her mother’s shoulder at the small opened box she was holding in her hands.

Sharon hummed quietly. She had heard soft footsteps approaching, so she wasn’t surprised when she heard her daughter’s voice.

“So that’s the present you’ve been clutching for most of the Christmas party?” Emily asked with a smirk. She didn’t need an answer; she had noticed the small box when her mother had hugged her but she hadn’t managed to see what was inside. Her smile grew wider when she inquired, “It’s from Lieutenant Flynn, isn’t it?”

Sharon merely nodded and Emily smiled at her mother’s unusual silence. “I’m glad there is someone here you can rely on, someone who cares about you…” Emily trailed off, waiting for some reaction from her mother.

“We’re just friends.” Sharon blurted out, turning to face her daughter. She arched an eyebrow as she looked at a grinning Emily.

Emily’s face turned serious when she asked her mother in a gentle tone, “Would it be so bad if it was more than this, Mom?”

Sharon stared at her daughter silently. Was it that bad? She wondered. Of course not! was her first thought, but she couldn’t find the strength to admit it. She felt like she couldn’t speak, the words dying in her throat. Sharon sighed and looked down at the small box in her hands. She brushed a finger over the precious ornament and smiled softly. No, it wasn’t bad at all. She just couldn’t admit it out loud, especially to her daughter.Not yet. Sharon took the angel from the box and turned toward the Christmas tree. She hung it delicately and took a few seconds to admire how the Christmas lights shined through the crystal figure.

“It’s perfect.” Sharon whispered after a little while.

Emily smiled softly as she noticed her mother’s eyes shinning. She didn’t need an answer to her question, she had it already. She squeezed Sharon’s upper arm before replying, “As if it has always belonged here, Mom…”

I’m in love with you, Sharon. Andy’s words echoed in her head and her stomach fluttered all over again. Sharon glanced one last time at the angel ornament before turning around, looking for her daughter. Emily was already heading to the hallway and she stopped when her eyes met her mother’s.

“Honey, I…” Sharon started, but her voice trailed off when she realized she didn’t know what to say.

Emily smiled and nodded her head toward the front door. “It’s okay, Mom, go. I’ll hold the fort while you’re away trying to save Christmas.”

---------------------- Somebody won't let go of her heart ---------------------------

Andy didn’t know what had gotten into him. He didn’t know why he had felt the need to tell Sharon about his feelings. He let himself fall unceremoniously on the couch, trying hard not to think about how idiot he had been. He knew he had ruined everything. Sharon running away from him without a word was a clear indication of how much he had screwed up.

Andy ran a hand through his hair and sighed. He hadn’t even bothered to change into comfortable clothes; he had discarded his blazer on the couch the moment he had stepped in. He had leaned against his kitchen counter with a mug of black coffee in his hand. Drinking coffee late at night was the last of his worries; he knew his mind would keep him up all night anyway, reminding him what a fool he had been.

A soft knock interrupted his train of thought. He stared at the front door, almost convinced his mind had made it up until he heard another knock, more insisting this time. He frowned and walked to the door. Only one person could show up at his house so late at night, actually two people could but Provenza was with Patrice so he was definitely ruled out.

Andy felt suddenly nervous as he was about to open the door. The feeling only increased when he found himself face to face with Sharon. His breath caught in his throat and for a split second, Andy thought she was there to yell at him to never show up at work again. He would have probably deserved it. Sharon didn’t speak and they stared at each other in silence for a little while before Andy found his voice, “Sharon, I…”

Before Andy could even go on, Sharon took a step toward him, closing the gap between them. She put a hand on his upper arm while the other slid behind his neck, urging him to lean down. Her lips teased his hesitantly as if Sharon wasn’t sure her kiss was welcome, and she pulled back before Andy could even kiss her back. They stared at each other in silence, their gazes switching from their eyes to their lips before they closed the gap between them again, with more confidence this time. Andy slid an arm around Sharon to hold her close while his other hand cupped her cheek. He kissed her in a way that left no doubt to his feelings and the corners of his mouth turned up when Sharon moaned in the kiss. They pulled back slightly, their noses still brushing when Sharon whispered, still out of breath, “I’m sorry I ran away…”

“I’m the one who’s sorry.” Andy cut her short, shaking his head. He still had his arms wrapped around her, almost afraid that if he let her go she would disappear and he would realize he had fallen asleep on his couch and that it was only a dream. “I have the worst timing, I should have never said it at work and…”

“No…” Sharon stopped him, putting a finger over his mouth to silence him. She smiled softly at him and pulled back slightly, so she could study his face better. She thought back of his words, of how hard it must have been for him to tell her how he felt. “How long have you been keeping this to yourself?” Sharon asked him gently.

Andy looked down, feeling suddenly uneasy. He turned his head slightly, breaking the contact between them as he tried to pinpoint the moment his friendly feelings changed into something more. What could he say? Nicole’s wedding…?

“Oh Andy…” Sharon added softly as she reached for his face again. She cupped it with both hands, her thumbs stroking his cheeks soothingly. “I’m sorry it took me so long to realize that…”

“It doesn’t matter, you’re here now.” Andy interrupted her gently, leaning in to whisper the words to her.

“I’m here now.” Sharon repeated with a bright smile before she met him halfway for another kiss.

--------------- But the truth is… it's painless letting your love show ----------------

#Major Crimes #Sharon Raydor #Andy Flynn #Sharon x Andy #Shandy #Christmas party #3x15 Chain Reaction #prompt #I might never get another chance to say this #ilariawrites

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carewyncromwell · 4 years ago

Photo

Left you all on a cliffhanger last time, so let’s just jump right in! Previous part of the POTC AU here, the whole tag is here, and Jules Farrier is @cursebreakerfarrier’s! Let’s go! <3

x~x~x~x

It took a moment for Orion to recover from Carewyn’s “confession.” It took a little longer still before he felt brave enough to make any movement toward her, though he still found himself oddly uncertain of how to proceed. For, believe it or not, the dashing pirate Orion Amari had never been in love with anyone else, nor did he have much instinct of how best to express affection. He’d encountered plenty of pirates who were “ladies’ men” in Tortuga and the like, of course -- but not only did Orion find they often gave off unpleasant vibes, but he knew for a fact that not one of them could have ever caught the eye of someone like Carewyn Cromwell.

And so Orion found himself hesitating, his hand resting just over Carewyn’s shoulder just shy of her cheek, as he watched her face for her reaction. Carewyn fortunately picked up on Orion’s shyness immediately, and she inclined her head in a muted, encouraging nod as she brought her own hand up to lightly trail over his cheek. The gentleness of the gesture made a shudder ripple through Orion’s shoulders, and he soon found himself mirroring her, smoothing a piece of her bangs from her eyes with his pointer and middle fingers. Her lips spread into a smile as she leaned in, her hand securing itself on his jawline, and placed a chaste kiss to his lips.

That kiss lasted three seconds.

The warmth of her lips on top of his seemed to fill Orion with a wonderful lightness, as if he were coming up off the ground -- and when it ended, there was a strange feeling of withdrawal. It felt like he’d gotten only a small taste of some sugary sweet, and it just wasn’t enough to satisfy him.

And so, almost as soon as she’d pulled away, Orion found himself bringing both hands up to her cheeks, cradling it as he slowly leaned in and kissed her again.

That kiss lasted fifteen seconds.

When they broke apart again, both of them were smiling. Carewyn leaned her forehead against his, and for a moment, all they could do was hold each other, reveling in this bizarre new feeling of closeness. It was so warm and fulfilling, and yet peaceful and soothing at the same time. Orion was more off-balance than ever and yet...all seemed right with the world.

As happy as the moment was, however, they both knew it couldn’t last. Carewyn was the one who woke up from the dream first.

“...What do we do now?” she murmured.

Orion’s face became much more somber seeing the sad glint in Carewyn’s gaze as it fell away. He considered her carefully, his dark eyes narrowing slightly.

“...I don’t know,” he said at last, very softly.

His eyes trailed over her face even though she still couldn’t look up at him.

“...I know I cannot ask you to come with me. You could never be a pirate, Carewyn Cromwell. Your spirit’s free as one, but your heart is too noble. Too heroic and selfless...”

His gaze softened sadly.

“And as long as your family -- your found family as well as your brother -- is out on the high seas...I know you would never abandon the position that gives you the power to protect them. ...Nor could I ever ask that of you.”

Carewyn met Orion’s eyes again. Her blue eyes were rippling to the brim with emotion, raging and turbulent as the sea itself.

“And I can’t ask you to stay with me,” she said. “As long as the East India Trading Company is obsessed with hunting down and killing all pirates...it would never be safe for you in Port Royal...or near me.”

She leaned her forehead against his again, closing her eyes.

Orion wished he knew how best to comfort her. Tentatively he secured his arms around her and brought up a hand to cradle the back of her head, the way he’d seen a woman hold her beau’s head while kissing him goodbye at the dock, when he was a boy.

“The world does indeed seem to be against us,” he said softly, “but the world in itself is not meant to be static. It, and fate, is constantly moving. Fate brought us together once, long ago...and it also demanded we separate. It brought us back together, and then we had to separate once more. Like the sun chases the moon...they do see each other every morning at dawn and every night at dusk...even if they must be apart so much of the time.”

Orion adjusted slightly so that he could look Carewyn in the face more easily.

“...Even if we must do that pattern several more times over,” he whispered, “I would cherish every time we met in the sky again, even if it’s only fleetingly.”

Carewyn looked up at him, her eyes full of pain. The movement made their lips suddenly only a hair’s width apart.

“You’d be all right with just that?” she asked.

He could feel her breath against his lips. It was enough to make his heart rate spike, and he had to take a stabilizing breath before answering.

“It seems to me that this...is something that most people could go their whole life never knowing for a moment. With that perspective...those precious moments where we could cross paths would be a gift, not an injustice.”

Carewyn frowned. “I understand, but...in this world we’re in, we should not want to collide at all. I’d have to arrest you, and we’d have to fight. There’s only so much we can pretend...so much I can pretend.”

She closed her eyes again, but this time, she didn’t just look sad -- she looked focused. When she opened her eyes again, it was full of a new kind of fire.

“If the world is meant to change...then I’ll make sure it does,” she said firmly. “I’ll fight for a world where you don’t have to run, and I don’t have to lie -- where Bill, Charlie, and Jules don’t have to be criminals just because they were determined to save my life. Where the Navy protects its citizens more than the East India Trading Company’s bottom line. ...Where people aren’t automatically branded criminals with no chance of reprieve or proper justice.”

Orion considered Carewyn for a moment, his expression rather unreadable. Carewyn’s confidence flickered ever-so-slightly.

“...You don’t believe me?”

Orion’s lips spread into a full, soft smile.

“I learned when I was still a boy trying to argue against eating and staying the night in a stranger’s house never to doubt the convictions of Carewyn Cromwell.”

Carewyn’s eyes softened as her lips also spread into a very small, warm smile. Then she leaned in to close the gap between their mouths once more.

That kiss lasted only a second, but there were about five more of them in rapid succession, a little longer and deeper each time.

The following day, the Artemis found a deserted island on one of the rum runners’ routes where they could drop Carewyn off. The crew was a bit disappointed to see her go -- sure, she was a bit too paragon to be a pirate, but she was a capable sailor and her singing voice was pleasant to listen to. Most importantly of all, they could all sense how much their Captain had taken to her and hated the thought of him being unhappy without her.

Carewyn and Skye exchanged a respectful handshake and farewells. McNully shook Carewyn’s hand too, but both she and he ended up using both hands in the end -- Carewyn lamented that she wouldn’t be able to work with such a talented tactician back with the Navy. Then Orion escorted Carewyn ashore on his own, the crew staying behind so that they could exchange their proper farewells.

Both of them stayed very stoic for most of the hand-off. Orion could only give Carewyn a jug of water and a pistol with one shot, as per the rules of marooning, as much as he’d also wished he could give her a bottle of rum and some food for the next few days she’d no doubt be on the island, waiting for someone to pick her up. But as Carewyn pointed out, she wouldn’t die of thirst in that time, and she honestly shouldn’t look in great shape when she was recovered anyway. And so, reluctantly, Orion turned to go.

He’d made it about twenty paces when he paused, looking back at Carewyn on the beach. She was standing in true Commodore fashion, with her arms behind her back and her posture perfectly straight, and yet despite her brave expression, he could see the sadness in her eyes she tried so desperately to hide.

It was in that moment that Orion did something completely off-balance and impulsive. In an instant, he’d barreled back across the beach at the run and, when he reached Carewyn, he threw an arm around her, pulled her in, and kissed her. It was deeper than any of their other kisses had been, with both of them holding onto each other’s back and head and touching each other’s faces as they tried desperately to communicate the depth of their feelings in that tragically short time they were allowed.

That kiss felt like it went on for days...and yet it still wasn’t long enough.

Part of Carewyn wanted to just grab Orion and never let go of him again -- to shield him from anyone and anything who tried to harm him...but she knew she couldn’t hope to protect him from the entire world. And so, very reluctantly, she and Orion separated, and Orion returned to the Artemis. Carewyn watched the pirate ship sail out of sight, her heart full of every prayer she could think of to ensure his safety.

Within two days, Carewyn had been found by a merchant ship, and within the week, she was back in Port Royal. Percy had been beyond relieved to hear of her safe return, though it broke Carewyn’s heart to lie about what had gone down with Bill, Charlie, and Jules. McNully had decided it’d be best if Carewyn claimed that she and the two eldest Weasleys had had a huge falling-out when she’d heard what they’d done (rather like Percy had) and that they’d been the ones to maroon her, rather than Orion. It would give a good explanation about why she was in such good shape, since even if Bill and Charlie were now criminals, they were still “his brothers,” but it would also make them seem rather heartless, to maroon their own brother on some barren island supposedly with no chance of rescue. When Carewyn met Governor Farrier again, however, she refused to say that Bill was holding Jules prisoner, as he’d originally presumed.

“She took the Revenge and rechristened it as her own flagship,” said Carewyn solemnly. “I’m afraid Miss Farrier -- pardon, Juliette Weasley is as much a pirate as my brothers are.”

What she did not add was that she believed that was “not at all.”

In the time Carewyn was gone, Percy had been promoted to Captain of his own ship, the Clearwater. He was incredibly proud of it -- as happy as Carewyn was for Percy, it proved difficult at points for her not to get a little irritated about how much he was puffing his chest out in the new fancier blue and white uniform he’d been given. He also couldn’t stop talking about the man who had “suggested” he be promoted, after meeting him.

“Lord Beckett really has his finger on the pulse of things,” said Percy one day as he walked with Carewyn around the newly repaired wall of the fort together. “He was thoroughly dismayed when he’d heard you’d been captured -- he’d actually wanted to meet you when you first got promoted, he’s heard all about you...”

‘Lucky me,’ Carewyn couldn’t help but think. The memory of Orion telling her about his time on Beckett’s slave ship rippled over her mind again, and it made her feel a bit ill.

“...Said your ingenuity would be a valuable asset. Lord Beckett is a businessman first and foremost, you see, so he tends to see people in regards to how useful they are...”

“‘Useful?’” Carewyn couldn’t help but repeat, raising her eyebrows primly. “Seems like a harsh way to judge people -- I reckon everyone has their own strengths and weaknesses.”

“Well, yes,” acknowledged Percy, “but again, he is a businessman. One has to make calculated risks, in that kind of a position. And his judgements seem rather sound -- he even mentioned having a woman on his payroll, helping him track down pirates.”

He shot Carewyn a rather meaningful look. She could surmise what he was thinking -- if Cutler Beckett allowed women to work for him, perhaps Carewyn could too and not have to hide her gender anymore. Being sure to hide her disgust at the thought of working for the man who had branded Orion a pirate, she gave a light shake of the head.

“As much as I respect the man for his inclusivity...I am a Navy officer, and I take pride in fighting for the crown.”

‘More than I ever would fighting for a private citizen whose moral code seems to be distinctly self-aggrandizing.’

She placed a gentle hand on Percy’s shoulder and gave it a light squeeze.

“...And really...what I want first and foremost is to look after my home and my family -- namely, you. I feel a soldier is better equipped to do that than a pirate hunter.”

Percy smiled slightly, clearly touched by her caring, but he tried to stay serious.

“...Well, that’s a noble thought, Carey,” he mumbled, “but I daresay Lord Beckett would be a bit disappointed.”

“Most assuredly.”

Carewyn turned around, startled.

A man only about two inches taller than her had arrived up on the wall of the fort. He wore a white powdered wig under a black velvet tricorn hat and a gold-embroidered vest with his suit, and his face on first glance gave Carewyn the distinct impression that this was a tiny man who fancied himself to be a lot bigger than he actually was. Carewyn herself had always been on the small side, but she made up for it with her confidence, strong moral code, and work ethic -- this man seemed to be the sort to puff himself up through very different means.

“Lord Beckett!” said Percy, startled.

“Captain Percy Weasley, good to see you,” said Beckett in a breezy tone that indicated to Carewyn he didn’t truly believe the sentiment at all. His eyes had fallen on Carewyn, narrowing slightly as he gave a rather stony smile. “Commodore Carey Weasley -- we meet at last.”

#potc au #au #pirates of the caribbean #orion amari #carewyn cromwell #my art #percy weasley #my writing #my fanfiction #looks like it's time for some dead man's chest plottage!#again I'm not going to include EVERYTHING from the other pirate films #I'll mostly just steal some ideas from the second and third and sew them together into a second story arc #basically think of this part as the end of act one #drawing kisses is hard #and now I've done three of them in a row!#first bill/jules then duncan/jacob and now carewyn/orion #how oh how will you ever be together my sweet carion...?#first things first let's feed cutler beckett to the kraken #then we can deal with rakepick and that whole deal with davy-jones!finn >>;#also yeah I see all of the other officers wearing gentlemanly shoes and hose with their breeches like norrington and such do in the films #carey however wears black boots not unlike the pirates do #in universe it's because carewyn has very narrow feet that are hard to fit and it's easier to stuff boots than it is gentleman shoes #but meta-wise is this visual short-hand? totally #also tall boots are awesome

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evien-stark · 4 years ago

Text

✧I Need You✧ Chapter 128

Down in the lab that was definitely not a hospital, you were drifting in and out on top of a cold table while a scan finished. You didn’t think it was particularly necessary, but Tony was in a mood, so there was really no saying no. As JARVIS spoke a hologram of your insides- which kind of felt like a violation (even though you’d agreed)- lit up just aside you. “The blast from the PF-98 shattered your side-wall defense and fractured your ribs which then punctured your lung. Falling approximately one hundred and twelve feet with no attempt at stabilization did not help, either. You also have a minor concussion.” Damage points lit up to life in bright cherry-red, while the video through your helmet visor at the time of the fight played in a different smaller window.

“Well, that explains the pain.” Doing your best to hold your annoyance at bay.

“Second scans show your metabolic healing rate is slower than previous charting. In fact, it has been slowing by a rate of .04% every year beginning in May of 2012.”

Your eyes met with Tony’s as he half turned, one arm crossed, the other resting in the crook so he could hold his chin in his palm. 2012. How about that. “Some people can’t even heal at all, so I’ll count my blessings.” Trying to just… ignore the implications of whatever that was, sitting up- and then lying right back down with an uneasy groan. “So- I’ll just- hang out here for a while…” Closing your eyes you basked in the sound of machines humming and Tony’s fingers drumming on tech-glass. “We actually should look into an in-house medic, you know.”

His amused scoff sounded off somewhere to your left. “Yeah. Barton nearly bit off more than he could chew today. I’ll make some calls. I’ve got some people in mind.”

The white noise in the quiet was not as calming as you would have liked. “...you get an ID on that weapon yet?”

Frustration rolled over to you from him as he tried to keep it together. “I’ve been pulling data for hours. Nothing comes close to what you saw.”

While you didn’t want to be the one that asked… “Are we thinking it’s alien tech?” Because your team was now on a hunt for Hydra after learning they’d stolen alien parts. It made sense, right?

“The Chitauri didn’t have anything like this. Otherwise they would have turned us to dust the second they hit the street.” Easy conclusion to draw. These things were small- possibly easy to make. Definitely easy to carry in large numbers. But if this wasn’t tied to your current problem, that meant there were more problems. “They were beasts, they wanted to fight. Guts and glory. This would have been too easy a kill for them.”

JARVIS suddenly spoke above you, “Ma’am, you are producing alarming amounts of norepinephrine.” You didn’t need him to explain what that was exactly to know what he was getting at.

Pretending like you didn’t care, however, “It would have been foolish to assume the Chitauri were the only aliens around- what is Ultron for if not that- but does SHIELD have files on-”

“SHIELD has plenty of files. All pertinent ones to this? Deep sixed. With just enough breadcrumbs.”

The sound of a door opening on the far side of the lab preceded a familiar voice, and a gaggle of footsteps. “SHIELD used to have plenty of files.” You half sat up quickly, ignoring the pain, to see Coulson and three unfamiliar faces approaching. “But SHIELD’s time is over. Remember? Unless you’ve been hanging around Talbot a little too long.”

Tony’s continued frustration boiled over into anger, though he hid it. “Security breach.”

JARVIS answered. “My apologies, sir. It was the next thing on my list, had the both of you not ignored me.”

Pushing yourself off the table, trying to make yourself a little more presentable to your sudden guests (not particularly happy about being bombarded in your own home), you started pulling sensors off your skin and removed the band from your head. “It’s nice to see you. You should have called ahead, I would have made dinner.”

Coulson stopped just at the other end of the table. “You’ve done enough for one day.”

Tony snapped his fingers a few times at the other boy Coulson had brought with him, “You leave so much as a fingerprint on my console-” Threatening him then with a point of his finger. Said boy recoiled, holding his hands up in defense. A short man, brown hair, blue eyes; kind of unremarkable. “Don’t touch my stuff.”

“Sorry, sir.” Head down, hands held very tightly together then. Embarrassment leaked off him. He held an unsteady hand Tony’s way. “Fitz, sir. I’m pleased to meet you.” His tone was light but carried with it a Scottish accent.

Coulson sighed. “That’s Agent Fitz. Who knows better. Because we talked about this on the flight over.” He gestured to the other two women who were with him. “This is Agent Simmons and Agent Skye.”

The one called Simmons held her hand out to you, so you gave her a quick shake. She smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.” More pleasant than her partner, brown hair, brown eyes and a kind smile. Soft spoken with a British accent.

Though Skye had had her arms crossed, she unfurled them to mirror Simmons. So you shook her hand next. Her smile was a little more wry. She seemed a little sharper than Simmons, darker brown hair in loose waves with dark brown eyes. “What she said.” Ah. The tough badass of the group. Message received.

You immediately put your attention back on Coulson. “There’s a lot of agents in my Tower suddenly for an organization you’re pretending is dead.”

He tipped his head back. “Well, if we’re beyond the ruse, let me make it clear. Your involvement in this case is no longer necessary.”

Irritation fluttered through you, not just your own, but Tony’s as well. Still, you were quick enough to get the first words out. “Is that right? I think you’ll remember I quit SHIELD. Working or not, I don’t take orders from you. Director.”

Tony came closer over to your side. “Director? Fury pass the sword on his way out? What’s the use in titles for an organization that’s in the ground? But- congrats by the way. Huge promotion.”

“It is.” Coulson agreed. “And it also means I don’t have time to babysit anymore. As far as I understand it, you don’t really have time to investigate this matter, either. So why don’t we just make this very short and sweet.”

Waving a hand his way, “I stuck up for you today-”

“Really? When did you do that? Around the time Talbot was telling the UN we’re still a threat?” It was strange. Coulson was usually pretty amicable, even when he was being annoying. But he seemed to be a little… hurt.

“I told him that wasn’t SHIELD. Because I know it isn’t. We dealt with this a few months back- Hill said she was going to get in touch with you-”

“She did. And now we’re here. So that ends your involvement.” Dry as ever.

“No.” Tony was only just starting. You knew this was about to get ugly. “It would have. If you people ever did your jobs. But her involvement included fending off alien tech with no way to save the people around her, while you and these baby agents were probably sitting in front of a TV watching cartoons. Why wasn’t this cleaned up before then? Where were you when it mattered?” Standing face to face with him by the end of it, eyes narrowed.

Coulson regarded him very carefully. “We’re here now.”

The heart of the matter came to a head when Tony leaned right into Coulson’s personal space. “Tell me you didn’t know that SHIELD stole from us. Tell me didn’t know about the scepter changing hands.”

Silence held the room before the answer came. “Is that what you really want, Stark?”

Disappointment was a heavy thunder then and Tony shook his head, easing back. You put a hand on his arm to steady him, and tried for something else. “We know it’s alien weaponry. And we know SHIELD must know what kind. Can you just tell us-”

Coulson zeroed in on you. “What difference would it make? If I listed off ten alien races on SHIELD’s radar, what difference would it make? You don’t have any information.”

Tony made a noise of annoyance. “That’s kind of the point, don’t you think?”

Simmons took a steadying breath and then very bravely put herself in between you. “If I may… I don’t think this is a productive means of discussion.”

Skye half turned away. “If I’d have known this was just gonna be a pissing match between SHIELD and the Avengers I would have stayed on the jet.”

This riled you for more reasons than you could count. You didn’t mean to lay into her, but… “I’m getting the sense you haven’t been an agent for very long.” She turned to look at you, almost momentarily stunned. “We’re not Avengers right now. We’re people. I’m a person who saw people die today. And a lot of signs point to that that could have been avoided- and at the same time today- my team was on a mission trying to clean up a mess SHIELD left for them that has left hundreds more people dead. And thousands more to come if we don’t figure it out for them. So I want you to listen to me very closely, Agent Skye. There’s a line of separation between being a faction and being a person. And you better figure out how to find it. Because SHIELD got real comfortable with lying for a banner cause. For the good of a team that thought it knew better than everyone else. And a lot of people suffered- and are still suffering because of it.”

A multitude of feelings poured over you. A quick sense of further embarrassment- disappointment- astonishment- but as Tony’s arm wound around you low, hand palming over your hip to pull you to his side- purposefully- there was a warm thrum of pride that rocked him.

The sound of the door opening in the back cut the tension down to size as everyone turned to see Bruce entering. He had a tablet in his hands, reading, and halfway into the room looked up finally and realized that he’d walked into a mess. “I’m uh… I seem to be interrupting something… I’m sorry.” But truly, you were grateful he had.

Fitz seemed to jolt at the opportunity to get away from this, going over to him with his hand out. “Doctor Banner, I’m pleased to meet you. Agent Fitz.”

Simmons was a close second, only after getting a nod from Coulson- probably one that meant she should step away. Which she did, gladly. Excitement bubbled off her as the two of them swarmed Bruce. “Doctor Banner…”

Their voices were drowned out by Coulson putting his attention back on you. He seemed sullen. “...we don’t know what that weaponry was. But we’re going to find out. We do know who led the attack. His name is Marcus Scarlotti. He’s with Hydra. We have a… history. We know where he’ll be headed. I’ve already sent a team to work on apprehending him.” Bending the knee finally. “I know you have your hands full. And maybe it’s taken me too long… I want it known that I appreciate everything you’ve done. Both for SHIELD and the Avengers. The both of you.”

But he looked directly at you next. “I don’t know if you’ve ever gone over the leaked case file of your SHIELD assessment. But I put several complaints about Fury’s behavior towards you. He was harder on you than most. And I know that ruined the relationship. For everyone. It was a shame. You were an incredible asset.” Realizing his SHIELD-speak had usurped what he was trying to get at- the very thing you’d just given a lecture about- he shook his head. “...an incredible person.”

It was better to stop fighting now, even if there were probably more things to say. You tried a smile on for him. “Still am. Hopefully. ...thank you. That means a lot. But I didn’t quit over the way Fury was treating me. I quit over irreconcilable differences with SHIELD.”

His nod was weak. “We’re running things differently now.”

You made sure to keep an even gaze. “I hope that’s true.”

He looked up at Tony again. “I didn’t know SHIELD redirected your trucks until Hill told me. I didn’t know about the scepter, either. Believe it or not, I’ve got my hands pretty full these days.” He drew a breath in but as careful to not let it leave as a sigh. “We’ll handle this. So that you can handle everything else. When we’re finished we’ll give you all the details.” He then held his hand out to Tony. “Alright?”

Tony let him sweat for ten full seconds before giving it up and putting his hand firm in Coulson’s. “We’re square.”

Trying your luck, and in the effort of team spirit, “I know you probably have a lot to get to. But it’s late already. Why don’t I call the team and order some dinner for everyone? You can stay the night too, if you need to.”

Coulson, for once, grinned. “And here I thought last time you said you didn’t have any vacancies.”

You held up your finger. “For criminals.”

In the back, Fitz’s hand shot straight up. “I could do with a hot meal. Please.”

Simmons stopped her fawning over Bruce for a moment to concur. “I think we’ll be alright to stay a while.”

Tony allowed himself half a smirk. “Well, Coulson, your kids seem to wanna stay.”

Coulson seemed entirely unamused. “Dinner. And that’s it. Everyone’s back on the jet after. I’ve been meaning to speak to Romanoff and Barton anyway.”

“They’re probably hanging out downstairs.” Giving them the go ahead to go find them. Coulson’s group petered off towards the exit, sweeping Bruce out with them. You pulled your phone from your pocket, stalled momentarily by Tony’s arm around your shoulders and a cautious glance your way. “What’s up?”

“Are you really alright for a group dinner?” Still worried it seemed.

You gave him what you hoped was a reassuring pat to his heart and leaned up to press a small kiss to the corner of his jaw. “I’ll be okay.” He chased you in a lean down, only getting as far as a bare kiss before he pulled back. It was then you realized one of the team had not left.

Skye was standing there, uncomfortably so, holding tight to herself. Before you could ask her if she was alright, she started speaking. “Look- I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to come off that way. If it’s still worth anything, I really respect everything you’ve done. And the stuff you guys are still doing.” She shook her head. “I know it might seem hollow now, but I know what it’s like to keep busting your ass nonstop, trying to do what’s right, even when everything else seems like it’s always against you.”

Letting the moment have a few seconds to breathe, you waited to step away from Tony. But when you did, you went to her, and held your hand out. “It’s not hollow. And I appreciate the apology. I’m sorry I went so hard on you.”

Putting her hand in yours, she returned the gesture with a firm shake. And then a wry grin. “No apologies necessary. Sometimes it’s good to get chewed out from time to time. Reminds you you’re not the only person in the world.”

---

It was genuinely nice to have such a full house for once. While there was still so much work still to do, for both teams sitting in the lounge that night, it was just nice to pretend to be normal. To be a unit. Of course as the evening went on, groups splintered off. You tried not to eavesdrop too heavily, but when Coulson went to speak directly with Nat and Clint you kept your ear turned just the right way. You definitely heard him bring up that Scarlotti character- and then were sure you heard the name Agent Morse.

Just that name alone sparked an amused interest in Natasha, while Clint pulsed feelings of bitterness. Maybe it was better not to spy on the spies, after all. Seemed kind of personal.

As the night wound down and Coulson began making it clear they had to leave, you walked them back up to the flight deck and shook hands with each agent as they passed by back into the jet. Coulson of course, was the last to board, and held your hand for maybe a little longer than normal. There was just one small thing to resolve, you felt. “Just to be clear… I haven’t been going around town badmouthing SHIELD or anything. And the stuff with Talbot I was basically forced to do. Every opportunity I’ve been given, I’ve made it clear I don’t like the way they handled SHIELD’s downfall.”

He let go of you and gave you a good stared own. But, when it was over, his smile was genuine. “I’ve never once questioned the integrity of your character. If you find yourself in a position where it’s easier to not stick up for us, don’t feel bad about it.”

“It’s not about feeling bad about it.” It was about what was right and what was wrong. SHIELD handled a lot of things poorly, but they certainly were government sanctioned, no matter how hard the government wanted to throw them under a bus to get away from everything. And they certainly weren’t terrorists.

“I know it’s not.” Saying without saying it. I trust you. He then gave you a nod. “Thanks for dinner. I’m sure we’ll be back.”

Tony put an arm around your shoulders as he stood at your side. “Don’t get any ideas of freeloading. This was a one-time thing.” His sass earned him a little swat on the butt as you dropped your arm behind him. Something that had a surprised chuckle escaping him as he reached out for a final handshake with Coulson.

It had been a nice evening, everything else considered. And everything else that had come before it. Tomorrow morning you’d have to make a statement in the media room about what had happened at the United Nations. You’d make it clear that you didn’t believe SHIELD was involved- because you had no idea what the spin was going to be on this. There had really never been a more obvious bait job, really, and you’d make it plain that anyone who bought into it was highly unintelligent.

Still… both you and Tony laid awake that night. Again. As usual. Finding sleep a little hard to come by. Turning on your side, cozying up closer to him, he held his arm around you, while his other hand rested over yours on his chest. You stared across into the darkness. “...are you still planning on coming to the Tech Convention with me?” Your keynote was in a few days. And while plans had already been laid, things were getting progressively crazy. If he had to go out with the team, his time was better served there, you were sure.

“I’m sure they’d understand if you canceled. You were attacked earlier today, if you don’t remember.” The fact that this was neither a yes or a no upset you a little.

“I don’t get to sit around. I’m an Avenger, remember?” Not quite a normal person who might take a month off after being traumatized over and over and over and over… except for that one time very recently.

“Says who?”

“Optics, that’s who. If I start ducking out every time someone throws a weapon at me, people are gonna start getting bold.” Showing that kind of weakness- saying to the world that it could count you out after every incident, big or small… that would really embolden a lot of people that didn’t need that sort of power.

A sigh escaped him, one you found yourself unconsciously mirroring without a second thought. He scooped your hand up, lifting so that he could press a kiss to the back. Then to the side. Then turning to press one to your palm. Holding there for a few seconds. Then, “I’ll go with you. It’s in a few days, right? Just a little speech on a stage. You’re good at those.”

“Just a little speech on a stage.” You assured him, half leaning up on your arm. Moving your hand from his, you brushed his hair back and then cupped his cheek in your palm, easing in just a little more to press a kiss to his lips. “Thank you.”

“I love you.” A murmur around another small touch of lips. “How’s the pain?”

You hadn’t expected him to ask this, catching you by surprise just for a second. “It’s better. I’m okay now. I think.” He was probably trying to feel out what was going on with you- it would be a blessing to know. But you had no idea, either. And… right now you really didn’t want to talk about it. Even if it was better to do so. So, very plainly, you asked, “Can we not talk about that right now?”

The way he was looking up at you, gazing at you, watching you closely- it eased you, but the small trickle of ache from him nearly broke you down. You were grateful when he clamped down on it, most likely knowingly so, and nodded. “Sure, honey.”

You didn’t want to talk about anything, in fact. And let him know, as another kiss melted into something deeper. Then you let him take the lead and ousted both your troubles elsewhere for the night so that you could focus on each other. If you hadn’t healed up already, you were sure his intimacy and care- the love that rocked you through to your core would have fixed every other problem.

---

Tony stood by your side as you read a prepared statement for the press the next morning about the attack on the United Nations. You made sure to emphasize that you did not believe the people who attacked the building and killed people were SHIELD agent leftovers. And made doubly sure to let the people know, although vaguely, that the matter was being handled and their true identities would be discovered.

You spoke about the loss of Italy’s representative, Dioli, and the several other lives lost that day. How it weighed on you, but how they would not have died in vain. You then very briefly discussed your new position as Enhanced Forces Ambassador and let the press know there would be more in the coming months about that position.

Questions came in hot and heavy and you took only a few. Nothing too damaging or hard to answer. All in all a pretty easy press conference to get through despite the matter that was being discussed.

Tony also stood right by your side a few days later when you took the center stage at the NYC Tech Convention to talk about Stark Industries’ new Intellicrops, and how they were getting closer to debut. Your scientists had been hard at work, as always, to try and better the world through technology. Most of their design was focused on making genetically modified seeds that would plant and thrive in soil hard to grow in. Land that was otherwise too dry or too polluted would not hold them back, and therefore many different types of landscapes could be converted to lush fields that would help feed people in need.

One of the many ways that Stark Industries had been trying to work for the betterment of all mankind, to be sure, something you were not shy in underlining. After you were done with your presentation, you stepped aside to actually let the people who worked on the project speak on it.

He took you to a very lovely private dinner that night. And, for once, it was nice to remember what it was like to just do this job, and not worry so much about the far bigger world saving things. A life where it was just you and Tony. Smiling across a table from each other, bathed in candlelight, while stocks soared. That kind of life. That was nice.

The following Sunday was unremarkable. The team was scattered for non-work related reasons. Even they liked to live their lives when they were able to, and when there were no current missions on the docket. Tony was in the lab with Bruce, because if he wasn’t working or with you, or he wasn’t working with the Avengers, that was the next place you could find him.

You’d stepped out in the afternoon for a coffee and thought you might grocery shop a little. Restock the kitchen. Happy offered to drive you, something you gratefully took him up on. But it was just after you’d left one of your favorite known-unknown cafes that you kind of wished you’d asked Tony for an escort instead. Because it was the one time he wasn’t with you that it seemed like it would have mattered.

Jessica Jones was standing a single foot away from you as you left the shop. Hands in her pockets. Casting hot anger and bitterness upon you in droves. “We need to talk.”

You held yourself tight as you stared her down. “What do you want from me now?” Was she there to tell you you hadn’t done the right thing, again? To guilt you? To provoke you?

“Killgrave’s alive.”

There was a sudden ringing in your ears that drowned out her angry muttering as your coffee slipped from your hands and splattered on her jeans and boots. It was hard to tell if you were breathing or not. A noise that held no form escaped you. One of equal parts panic and dismay. But it got your point across pretty well as she looked up at you again.

Fuck.

#Tony Stark #Tony Stark x Reader #INY Chapter One Hundred Twenty Eight #FUCK IS RIGHT BABIES :]

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darkdevasofdestruction · 5 years ago

Text

Balance & Harmony

(( I’m totally not insane to be writing about Orion Amari, okay? Okay. ))

The sun was up and shining beautifully like it always does, and here you were, on a beautiful Spring Saturday morning, hanging upside down from your broom above the Quidditch pitch, your wand lazily dangling in your hand, tied to your wrists, in case it falls again, as it sometimes happens when you’re too focused on the book levitating in front of you.

It wasn’t a textbook, that would have been boring. Instead, it was another muggle fantasy book that fascinated you so much that you forgot to even breathe.

But this is what made you happy, excited, made you feel like you were alive. On the other hand, this is exactly how you met your now-boyfriend, who so happens to be the famous Slytherin Quidditch captain, Orion Amari.

---

You can remember even now that day 3 years ago, when you were in Year 3, and you went to the Quidditch pitch, your mother having bought you a brand new broom so you could have your fun. You never cared about Quidditch as a game, or better said, you never bothered to go to tryouts or play, but you absolutely loved flying and fooling around on the broom, which you only did when you were absolutely sure nobody else was watching...Because that you made you screw up, your shyness acting up, as usual.

And besides, watching others play Quidditch, seeing your House team win, is so much more satisfying, right? No anxiety, no responsibilities, and you get to feel the same things the team members are feeling.

That day you learnt how to stand on your hands on the broom, and hell, it was so exciting and fun, you took things even further, staying on one hand successfully, doing a whole pitch lap, before you went back to stand on your feet and cheer at your amazing success.

Flying sure felt like you freedom to you.

And to celebrate your success, you sat on the broom, hanging upside down, your wand out to levitate your book so you could read one of our favourite books, ‘The Picture Of Dorian Gray’ by Oscar Wilde.

The problem was that you were so caught up into the book that you started reciting some of Dorian’s monologues, and you got so shocked at one point that your wand fell from you hand, along with the book and you lost balance as you tried to get up, not realising how feint you were feeling from staying with your head down so long, and you legs felt like jelly...Making you fall from more meters than you’d want to think about, with no chance of survival, since your wand was on the ground already, where you will be too soon enough.

You tried desperately to call for your broom, but it was out of your reach. You could feel your eyes watering in fright, your heart hammering in your chest so hard that you thought it’d jump into another dimension, and your lungs were burning.

You closed your eyes, waiting for your imminent demise...Until you felt yourself being swept up, making you let out a soft whimper, and yet, you weren’t brave enough to open up your eyes until a gentle voice started talking to you, putting you close to their chest.

“It’s alright now, you’re safe.” he said reassuringly, as he landed carefully on the ground. “We’re on the ground now, it’s okay. You can open your eyes.” he explained, but you barely managed to open your eyes to look at your saviour, that you fell to the ground, trembling and panting. “It’s going to be okay now. I’m Orion. Orion Amari. What’s your name? I know we’re on the same year, same House, but I never caught your name.” he chuckled a bit, putting his hand on your face, making you look at him as he tried to make you forget about your near-death experience. “I’m...I’m Y/N L/N. I know who you are...You’re the Team’s new Chaser.” you manage to put the ghost of a smile on your face. “I never realised I was so famous, or that such a cute and talented girl was watching our matches. I’m flattered.” he grinned, petting your hair soothingly. “After what happened up there, talented is the last thing I’d say. Rather, I’d go with clumsy, stupid and uninspired.” you chuckled, facepalming. “Well...Training like that with nobody around can be dangerous. The surprising part was that you were brilliant on your tricks, until you started reading.” he stated, bringing you the wand and book. “Honestly...When I opened my eyes, I thought you were a dark-haired Dorian Gray or something...” you blushed lightly, looking away. “I can only suppose Dorian Gray is the protagonist of this book your were reading, correct?” he asked, smiling. “Yeah, he is. It’s one of my favourite books, I recommend it. It’s beautiful and tragic at the same time.” you grinned at him, holding the book close to your chest. “If you’d allow me, I would love to borrow it. Also, I would recommend next time you read upside down like that, to attach your wand on your wrist, in case you get too focused to realise you are breathing.” he smirked slightly, guiding you to your shared Common Room, where you crashed on the soda for a while. “I’d be honoured! Nobody really likes my muggle books so I hardly ever have anyone to chat with about anything that is not school related, you know? Also...When did you get on the pitch? I always make sure nobody is there so I won’t embarrass myself.” you look at him with a slightly mischievous look. “I...Sometimes hang around that place too. It’s not the first time I’ve seen you practicing on your broom. You inspire me and give me ideas of what to try out next.” he confessed, completely nonchalant. “Woaw...You said that with no shame at all. Impressive.” you muttered in shock. “What is there to be ashamed about? I always liked to learn new things, especially if I’m passionate about it. It keeps a certain level of harmony between my mind and soul.” he shrugged with a smile on his face. “Hang on...If you wanted to learn so much, why didn’t you just come over to me? I don’t look that scary and intimidating, now, do I?” you smirked, seeing his eyes widen, a rosy colour shading his cheeks. “Ah! There it is! Look at you, you really are blushing! So I was right!” you smirked teasingly, poking his cheek. “That is pretty intimidating, if not, rather intriguing. Maybe I really should have come up to you sooner. You are quite a challenge, Y/N, and you’re disturbing my inner balance. Weirdly enough, I quite like it. What do you say, would you like to help me regain my balance?” he asked, getting closer to you. “Only if you can help me find harmony.” you chuckled, leaning back on the sofa. “I think we have quite the deal here.” he nodded, opening the book and reading the summary.

---

This was the beginning of a beautiful friendship that blossomed into even more, an even more outstanding relationship that everyone envied. You became the most powerful couple Hogwarts ever had. He, the Slytherin’s Quidditch Team’s Captain and Chaser, and you, the most intelligent and artistic Slytherin. You were each other’s Harmony and Balance, you complimented each other very well.

What was even better, was that your best friends, Penny, Tonks and Tulip were always up to hang out with and they always knew how to cheer you up, especially when Merula was being a jerk, or when other girls were jealous on you for dating Orion.

But today...Today was a rather special and weird day, for the famous Slytherin Curse-breaker, Kitsune Shimada, flied over in front of you, looking a bit confused.

“Uhm...Hi? Are you Y/N L/N? Penny and Murphy advised me to come talk to you about the Quidditch tryouts. They said you might know how to get an invitation.” she said, looking at you from above. “I see...I hope you’re not trying to be an ass-kisser so I would tell my boyfriend to give you a free invitation to be the new Chaser?” you raised your eyebrow, skeptical and bored. “Boyfriend...? Wait, Orion Amari is your boyfriend?!” her shock was great enough to make you realise that her intentions weren’t foul, so you laughed at her. “Yeah, he is. Has been for the last 3 years. I suppose you haven’t met him yet, have you?” you asked, smiling at her. “No, I haven’t. I didn’t even know he was the other Chaser until Murphy told me that. I’ve been doing so many friendly matches that I started to even forget my own name.” she replied with a sheepish smile on her face. “Oh, trust me, I know. I watched all of your friendlies so far. You have a lot to learn, but at the same time, training with Skye and Murphy sure had great influence on you. And even more, you seem to have quite a natural talent and instinct for it. But if you want to get the invitation, you have to impress Orion...And that’s gonna be quite the feat. Are you sure you’re up for it?” you asked sternly, crossing your arms, looking straight into her eyes. “Yes, I am sure. I worked hard so far and I’m ready to work even more for this opportunity. So please, teach me how to impress Orion and get that invitation.” her voice was stern and sure of herself, which made you grin at her. “Great! The first thing you have to learn is how to talk to Orion. Many would call him ‘Quirky’ or ‘Spacey’, but he’s a very intelligent and talented person. He can speak in riddles and questions, but when you finally find out what he’s trying to say, you realise that you have a lot to learn from him.” you begin, a serene smile on your face. “The next thing would be to learn how to...As he calls it, ‘Talk to his level.’, which basically means that you have to learn to balance on one leg on the broom.” you giggle, seeing her horrorstuck face. “WHAT?! That sounds impossible!” she gasped, making you laugh more. “Come on, it’s not that difficult, okay? Start with a positive attitude and it’s gonna be easier.” you shrugged. “Why don’t you do it then?” she raised her eyebrow skeptically, making you laugh again. “Let’s do it together. After all, I’ve been doing things more complicated since 3 years ago.” your voice confident and full of life and you easily stood on one leg, amused at her failed attempts to even stand on both feet on the broom. “You make it look so much easier than it is! How do you do it?!” she kept wobbling, trying to keep her balance. “Come on, Kitsune, I’ve mastered this at 13. You have to let your mind focus and find a certain balance between your stability and focus. Focus on my voice, not on trying not to wobble. Talk to me, forget about everything else around you, okay?” you explained, feeling a perfect harmony. “I can’t wait to find out why all this is important...” she muttered, looking a bit crestfallen. “I’d say this would help Seekers more, but all tricks helpful for every position. You need to learn how to tune out external distractions, like the audience, or other players’ taunting. You’ll find more uses for each trick yourself, that’s the fun of Quidditch.” you told her, seeing her progress rather quickly. “You seem to know quite a lot. What position are you playing?” she asked again. “I don’t play Quidditch. I never went to any tryouts either. I don’t like playing, I prefer watching our team play or fooling around with friends. On the other hand, I sometimes advise the team, help them practice...And on the worst case scenarios, I play as a stand-in. But that’s only been if Orion can’t find a proper replacement. He knows I hate playing competitively.” you grin at her, feeling butterflies every time you think of your boyfriend. “The way you speak of him makes it look like you really love each other. Penny told me a lot of nice things about you, and how you’ve been her tutor for DADA and Transfigurations the last two years. I know we’re only 14, while you’re 16 or 17, and I know there could be other people trying out who could do much better and who have more experience, but I’m ambitious and determined to make it on the team and help our House win the Quidditch Cup.” her voice was genuine and you knew she was ready to meet Orion. “I know, Kitsune. You’re a true Slytherin, I can see you are true to yourself and want this very much. So much that you started balancing without even realising, that’s how focused you were on your convictions and our conversation. I’m proud of you, Kitsune, I don’t think I ever met anyone who could do this so quickly. It’s time for you meet Orion, dear.” you grin at her sudden shock-realisation face, making her lose balance and almost falling, before managing to stay on both feet and then sitting normally on the broom, laughing. “Well, that was one way to shock me! Thanks a lot, Y/N, you taught me a lot today. I really hope I can make it on the team now.” she grinned as you sat on the broom too. “Well, I’m pretty sure we have class now, but after, Orion’s going to be here, ready to meet you. Don’t forget what I taught you, and everything is going to be okay. You have a hell of a potential, I can assure you everything is going to go well if you continue with this enthusiasm and drive to win. And remember, Kitsune, you’re a Slytherin, okay?” you winked at her as you left the pitch, ready to go to Potions, but not before meeting your boyfriend in the Common Room, so you could walk together.

There you saw him, both dressed in your robes, walking hand in hand toward the classroom, stealing a kiss here and there, as you’d usually do.

“Tell me, my dearest Catherine Earnshaw, are you adopting 14 year olds again?” he chuckled, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck, as you two sat down. “When am I not? I mean, come on, most of my friends are 14 year old. I’m a mess.” you laughed, leaning into him, playing with his beautiful dark hair. “Don’t say that, darling, you are my harmony and balance. What would I do without you?” he asked in a suave voice, making you giggle. “Not...Be surrounded by 14 year olds? I don’t know, my lovely Dorian Gray, you’d be the same successful and amazing Slytherin Captain Team and Chaser. You’d be the same lovely boy with girl fawning all over you and people trying to suck it to you to get on the team...Should I go on?” you teased, leaning back a bit, to look in his eyes. “It sounds to me like you’re trying to kitten...Why don’t you purr while at it? You want me to tell you how much I love you? How much you mean to me? Just say so, and I will.” he grinned, putting his hand on your face, as you leaned into his touch. “Your love taught me how to have the Fire of a Fire crab, the Patience of a Flobberworm, the Loyalty of a Kneazle and the Drive of a Niffler running after a galleon. You helped me achieve inner Harmony and Balance, taught me how to see the beauty of life and the happiness of having someone who I trust with my whole heart and soul. You, darling, are the only one who could ever teach me how to achieve a clear mind.” he said gently, leaning in to press a tender kiss on your lips, gazing at you with a gentle smile. “My heart can’t take all this sweetness. Damn, Orion, I love you so much, you can’t even realise.” you grinned, kissing him back sweetly. “Well...I think I might have an idea, sugar.” he winked, leaning back in his seat as Snape got in the room to start the lesson.

---

A few days passed, Kitsune successfully made it to the team, but unfortunately, the Seeker broke his hand the night before the match so you had to replace him, much to your annoyance.

The game was against Gryffindors, and it sure as hell was a tough one, seeing that their Seeker was extremely aggressive and would bump into you at all times, the bludgers would be send towards you as well, and it all just as much as ruined your chakras so much that you were truly pissed off for the first time in ages, which made you aggressive as well.

So aggressive, in fact, that you made the Seeker lose balance and fall from her broom, barely dangling with one hand from the handle, as you darted off as far as possible, getting on your feet on the broom and inching forwards, reaching out your arm towards the stupid Snitch. It felt like hours until you finally managed to catch the snitch, and very close to falling off your broom, but none of that happened, and Slytherin was victorious, with a total of 310 points, against the enemy’s 170, so it was a complete win!

You did a whole pitch lap standing on one foot, showing off the Snitch in your hand, before getting to Orion, and hanging upside down to reach his face, as he stood on his feet on the broom, his face beaming with pride and glee.

“You did it, Y/N! You won us the match!” his voice hyped and proud. “I hate getting angry and aggressive, but it was worth it. That chick really pissed me off, y’know? Too bad she didn’t fall or something.” you shrugged, grinning and reaching out to his hands to put the Snitch in his hands. “You should hold it. You caught it. We couldn’t have done it without you, hun.” he tried to give it back, but by now you were both holding it. “It was you who helped me stay focused on my goal. It’s not I who won the game, Orion. WE won it.” you chuckled softly putting your hand on his face. “I think after this game we both need to regain our harmony and balance, don’t you think?” he asked in a low voice leaning closer to you. “I have to agree with that...Captain Amari.” you smirked at him, making him let out an amused breath as he kissed you passionately, just like Spiderman would kiss Mary Jane in the famous comics, but this time, the roles were reversed.

The whole day, the Slytherins celebrated the winning of the Quidditch Cup and everyone couldn’t be happier for your success, especially you, Orion, Murphy, Skye and Kitsune, who worked so hard to achieve this beautiful victory and can now reap the bounties of success and happiness.

Yes, Year 6 was going to end soon, Year 7 was going to come alarmingly soon, and with it, the end of your life at Hogwarts, but you and Orion knew that no matter what, you would never be separated and your life is going to be forever in peace, balance and harmony, together, in happiness.

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a-hundred-jewels · 3 years ago

Text

cruel summer ch 12: i have these lucid dreams

Ao3 Wattpad

Summary: sabrina starr, pegasuses, and oh no! the fourth wall broke! do we have a carpenter in the audience?

Word Count: 9000 ish

Tags: Rachel Elizabeth Dare/Jane Penderwick, Rosalind Penderwick/Tommy Geiger, Nico di Angelo/Will Solace, Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Jane Penderwick, Rachel Elizabeth Dare, Rosalind Penderwick, Skye Penderwick, Chiron (Percy Jackson), Martin Penderwick, Elizabeth "Batty" Penderwick, Elizabeth Penderwick (senior), Iantha Aaronson-Penderwick, Ben Aaronson-Penderwick, Nico di Angelo, Will Solace, Annabeth Chase, Jeffrey Tifton-McGrath, Percy Jackson, Demeter (Percy Jackson), Apollo (Percy Jackson), Camp Half-Blood (Percy Jackson), Camp Half-Blood AU, Demigods, demeter!elizabeth penderwick, demeter!rosalind (second generation), demeter!batty (second generation), apollo!alec mcgrath, apollo!jeffrey (second generation), demeter!jane (second generation), demeter!skye (second generation), all of that's in no particular order, main focus is on jane because i love her and she's so so fun to write, tomsalind is there (and stuff will happen - i can't really say what, it will really be eventful though), yes of course there's solangelo, takes place right before Penderwicks In Spring, After Trials of Apollo, more tags to come??, Minor Swearing

Notes and Full Chapter below cut:

Hello everyone and welcome back! I'll admit, this is a little later today than I'd been planning to post (was hoping to get an early start), but hey! If the Puppet History season 4 finale can be late, then so can I!

First off, a massive massive thank you to waterbottle_stickers for being the best beta reader ever. This chapter would be a mess without you. Also, if you haven't already, please check out their enola holmes fic wherever you stray, i follow it's truly wonderful.

If you've been following me on tumblr, then you'll know that, in addition to reblogging an alarming quantity of good omens fanart, I've been making some plans for fics this month. The original plan from back in august was to post every day of the month, but... ahhh.... I just don't work that fast lmao. I'll have to be content with just posting a fair amount this month. Happy october! Anyway, stay tuned.

On this fine day, we've got two lovely QUEER fanfic recommendations that I'm very excited to share. Up first is one from the tumblr blog izzielizzie (which you should all absolutely check out! especially if you're into the one of us is lying fandom!). it centers around the skye/melissa pairing and their senior prom, which Skye is said to have only gone to last minute, and also wearing a lab coat, in a passage of the penderwicks at last. featuring some oblivious lesbians and also jane. once again a massive thanks to izzielizzie, as this fic is one of my favourites!. click here to take a look! (also keep an eye on her blog in general bc her penderwicks fics are awesome!)

The second fanfic is also one I'm very fond of, as it focuses on the siblinghood of skye and jane, which is one of my favourite topics on earth. check out rolling down the ancient high street by hanchewie/ramblemadlyon (tumblr and ao3 respectively) for the sibling antics of aroace skye and bisexual jane when the latter visits the former at her college in california! and, if you like it, ramblemadlyon has two other penderwicks fics from the past couple days that look fantastic as well, and that I look forward to reading.

This chapter is dedicated to my therapist, since I've decided this will be the month of oddly specific dedications. thank you for telling me to stop referring to cruel summer as my "trash baby" and help me recognize the true worth that it holds in my life.

Disclaimer: not my characters, you know the drill. Jeanne Birdsall and Rick Riordan are lucky ducks indeed. chapter title is (obviously) from "lucid dreams" by Juice WRLD.

FROM THE POV OF JANE PENDERWICK

The woods loomed around me, seeming as tall as buildings as they invited me in further. I took another step, the sharp pain of a pinecone digging into my foot barely registered in my mind. I kept walking. A crack sounded throughout the air, and, behind me, a tree splintered round its base and fell down, only inches away from crushing me dead, and completely blocking the path out.

Frightened, I began to run, looking for a way out of the forest. But no matter which way I went, there were only trees in front of me. Where was the path? Where was the grassy hill I had walked down to get in here in the first place. Had I even walked down that hill to begin with? Now that I thought about it, I wasn’t sure I remembered coming here. I wasn’t sure I remembered waking up this morning, or going to bed last night, or anything besides existing in the forest. Who was I? What was I doing here? How could I get out?

Panicking, I stood in the middle of a clearing, looking frantically at the trees around me, trying to find something familiar. Nothing. I was exhausted. How long had I been here? An hour? A day? A lifetime? I collapsed at the base of a tree, sobbing as I tried to remember. Something. Anything.

Then, a voice echoed around me. “Welcome,” it said, and my mind went black.

I bolt upright in bed, a scream halfway out of my throat. I clamp it back, not wanting to wake my cabinmates. Thin light whimpers through the window--enough for me to see my white-knuckle grip on the sheets, but not enough to pass as daylight.

What time is it?

Our cell phones don’t really work here--that was one of the first things Miranda told us when we arrived, and Batty’s been gleefully lording it over us that her Mp3 player will still play music and, like, function, while our smart phones recline sadly in our duffel bags. That being said, I don’t feel quite brave enough to get out of my bed just yet and tiptoe over to the big analog clock that Rio bought at a pawn shop in Colorado. Maybe my phone will at least show the time.

I reach under my bed and fumble for my duffel, hooking my pinky through the zipper loop and yanking it out onto my floor. My phone’s in the front pocket, buried under two pairs of headphones, several gum wrappers, and some strawberry leaves (?????). A piece of gum peels off the screen as I disentangle my phone, and I mentally chide my past self for being so messy.

My phone does not turn on. Big clock it is.

I tiptoe across the cold tile and peer around the tree.

5:45 .

Jesus Pagan Christ.

It’s too early to wake anyone up (as I think this, Batty lets out a snore to rival any crabby Tyrannosaurus Rex), so I wrap a blanket around myself like a criminally attractive burrito, and creep out onto the porch, with my notebook and pen tucked into my shirt.

As long as I live, I will never get tired of summer mornings. There’s something deeply lovely about the soft light of the still-sleepy, pink lemonade sun, the quiet anticipation of the cool air, damp from dew and preparing for the upcoming heat. At home in Cameron, Skye’s woken me up many an early morning to go for a run or do soccer drills or for a grueling “Seven Minute Workout Except You Don’t Follow The Rules And Torture Your Sister by Making It Actually A Forty-Nine Minute Workout.” (But it’s okay, I’m not bitter). But, as delightful as those experiences have all been, I don’t think Skye really gets it. The beauty of the summer morning is not what it can do for your workout schedule, but rather in its gentle softening of an otherwise boiling day. It is to be appreciated in the way that I am now, sitting curled up on this frighteningly creaky porch (I mean, seriously, who built this?) and calling up the Sabrina Starr section of my brain to try and write away the residual panic from my nightmare.

Sabrina sighed as the plane took off. She wasn’t sure if she should have followed the voice in her head telling her to come here. Saying it out loud--even just thinking it--made it sound ridiculous. A dream, a voice in her mind. Barely more than a whim.

Worse than that, Sabrina wasn’t even sure where this whim was taking her. On a napkin in her pocket, she’d scrawled everything she remembered about the dream from the night before. The dark sky, lit only with spiderwebs of lightning, the shadowy figure huddled on a beach and soaked through with rain. The voice crying for help.

And a name. Aeaea.

After she’d woken up, Sabrina had looked up Aeaea, too tired to fully connect why the name felt familiar. Her heart had sunk further after reading the Wikipedia entry, and a breath of hopelessness had left her lips. According to the internet, Aeaea was not a real place. It had been the island prison of Circe. Fiction wasn’t new to Sabrina, and neither was mythology (she recalled an adventure spent with a ghost called Rainbow from a few years back).

Fictional places, though, were another matter. How could she get somewhere if she didn’t know where she was going? Was she trusting her gut with too much this time?

Sabrina folded up the napkin and put it back in her pocket. There was no point in worrying about that now. She’d looked at enough maps to make a guess at where Aeaea might be if it was real. When she got there, she could get more information. Sabrina Starr had survived this long in her career of rescues and whims. She could survive one more adventure. Worst case scenario, she said to herself, I spend a few days running around for nothing and have to brush up on my Greek.

She repeated it to herself like a promise. Worst case scenario, worst case scenario… Eventually, tired out from all her anxieties, and from trying desperately not to worry about what would come next, Sabrina fell asleep.

FROM THE POV OF RACHEL ELIZABETH DARE

“Okay, I give up. Tell me what’s wrong.” Annabeth’s voice startles me away from my plate of eggs, which I had been pushing around with a fork. Anxiety bubbles in my throat, just as it had been since I woke up, and food just doesn’t sound like a good idea.

“I--what?”

Annabeth waves her hand impatiently. “Don’t play dumb. I’ve been talking to you for five minutes and I don’t think you’ve looked up once. Also you’re always hungry in the mornings, so unless you, like, ate an entire cow before I got here, this ,” she gestures to my uneaten eggs, “is unusual behaviour.”

I give her a look. Sometimes, I get the feeling that Annabeth exists as a part of multiple different dimensions at once, like she’s having four other conversations that I can’t hear, and is still ten steps ahead of me in the one I’m actually a part of.

Or maybe I’m just easy to read.

“Nothing’s wrong.” I don’t want to talk about it. “I’m fine.” I’m terrified.

Annabeth sighs. “Is this about the prophecy?”

“No,” I spear another piece of egg, and don’t eat it. “Maybe. Yes.” I feel like going back to my cave and staying there for the rest of my life. Waiting with a book and some paints for the prophecy to get bored and go away. Maybe I’d take Jane with me, or Nico, for some company. That sounds nice.

My plate is pulled away from me as I aim my fork again. “I can’t pay attention when you do that,” Annabeth huffs. I think I wouldn’t invite her to stay in my cave. She’s too on the nose when I want to mope. Then again, she says the same about me.

“Fine,” I turn and face her. “Let’s talk feelings.” Connor Stoll, who had been making his way towards our table, abruptly turns around and walks the other way. I should get Chiron to hire a therapist. Gods know we need it.

Further proving my point, Annabeth’s eyes widen a little, before she remembers it is I who will be spilling. (I make a point to corner her later. It’s a routine we have). “Wow. You broke fast.”

I nod. “I’m tired and you’re annoying.” (False. We both know it. Another routine). “Like you said, I’m nervous about the prophecy.”

Annabeth nods. “And?”

I frown. “What do you mean, and ? There’s no and.”

Annabeth frowns back at me. A mirror, a mime, an annoyance. The nerve to look disappointed in me. “I thought you were spilling, Red.”

I roll my head back and study the roof of the pavilion, which Annabeth designed, and slowly lean my head down to stare at the table. I really don’t want to have this conversation. I go along anyways. “I’m worried about Jane.”

Annabeth leans back, triumphant. “Ah, yes. Your girlfriend.”

Maybe if I try reeeeeeeally hard, I can activate the Oracle of Delphi and freak Annabeth out enough to make her go away. “ Not my girlfriend. You know that.”

“You called Percy my boyfriend for weeks before we actually officially decided.”

I wave my hand dissmissively. “That’s different, you guys were dancing around each other for like three years. You needed a bit of a push. Jane and I kissed once! Over a week ago! And nothing came of it.” We actually haven’t really talked about it. We’re in this sort of in-between zone where we spend a ton of time together, but don’t have a label for it. Honestly, it’s been nice.

Annabeth grins, apparently reading my thoughts. “You’ve been eating lunch with the Demeter cabin, like, every other day. I saw you doing archery together yesterday. Both of you were awful at it, but you stayed there for hours. I’ve never seen you focus on something that long outside of your paintings.”

I stare at the ceiling again. Maybe Annabeth designed it so that a single square foot of rock might fall down onto my head and relieve me from this conversation. “Yes, fine, we spend a lot of time together. But that doesn’t make us a couple, and has nothing to do with what I’m actually worried about!” I can see in her face that Annabeth is more serious now, and is about to fully listen to me, when Percy and Malcolm show up, sliding into the seats across from us, and clanging several plates of pancakes down onto the table in front of them.

“Made them ourselves! Wanna share?” Percy gives Annabeth heart eyes and a kiss on the cheek when she folds a large blue pancake into thirds and bites it like a burrito. I roll my eyes at them because they are a horrifying and disgusting couple and also I kind of want to be them when I grow up. Malcolm ignores them, instead turning to me. “Were you talking about Jane?” he asks, pushing wire rimmed glasses up his nose.

I frown. “Sort of. Why?”

He shrugs, sheepish. “You know. Just, uh, just wondering.”

I narrow my eyes at him, then Percy, who tears himself away from looking at Annabeth to sigh dramatically. “Malcolm wants to ask out Jane’s sister. You know, the blond one.”

I snort. “ Skye? Seriously?”

Malcolm looks vaguely offended. “What’s so weird about that?”

“Sorry, it’s not weird.” I reach over the table to pat him on the shoulder with my fork. “Perfectly normal teenage hormones.” He glares at me and I smile sweetly back. “I just can’t imagine Skye going out with anyone, that’s all.”

Malcolm stares down at his pancake, disappointed. “Oh. You sure?”

I nod, feeling a little more normal with my friends and less doom-related breakfast conversation. My eggs are past the threshold of “warm and appetizing” but I take a bite anyway. “Pretty sure. Jane told me that she’s aroace and, based on past occurrences, there’s a seventy percent chance she’ll punch anyone who asks her out. Anyway, why the interest? I didn’t know you guys talked.”

Malcolm shrugs. “We don’t, really. She just seems cool.”

Percy pipes in, “He’s been practically obsessed with her since she won that soccer game against the Nike kids and made them cry.”

I nod approvingly. “Well, Malcolm, at least we know you have good taste.”

Annabeth pats him on the head, ignoring his complaints that her hand is covered in blue maple syrup. “Better luck next time, brother of mine.”

Piper and Leo join us next, contributing an alarming volume of grapes and a single hardboiled egg to the breakfast display. Leo grabs a pancake and wraps it around some grapes, before taking a big bite. “I hear you’re discussing Malcolm’s romantic failures,” he says around the world’s worst breakfast burrito. Piper gasps in mock offense, then swallows the unpeeled hardboiled egg whole, like a snake. (This is a regular morning routine. She’s trying to work up to being a sword swallower, since her dad did it in a movie once and she thought it looked like fun). “ Malcolm, why didn’t you come to me? I could have given you a verdict within five minutes!”

“I wanted advice on whether I should ask out that Heaphestus boy two weeks ago and you told me to fuck off.”

Piper pouts at him. “That’s on you, you caught me at a bad time.”

Annabeth holds up a pancake with the air of a respected royal and we turn to her. “As delightful as this is, Rachel and I were initially talking about her romantic prospects and also her worries and fears, and I feel that we should get back to that before she slinks off and avoids the rest of the conversation.”

I glare at her. “Why would you bring this away from the very nice conversation we were having about everyone else’s problems? Do you hate me?” Annabeth rolls her eyes. “No, dumbass, I’m just not letting you walk away from a potential breakthrough. Now, where were we? You were saying that you’re worried about Jane but it has nothing whatsoever to do with your relationship, or lack thereof.”

I give a long suffering sigh, and try to communicate telepathically with Piper that she needs to Save Me Now, but she’s looking at me in interest with her chin resting in her hands, her long fingers adorned with rings sent to her from her Mortal girlfriend, Shel, who bought them at a vintage punk store. The traitor. Defeated, I turn back to Annabeth.

“It’s just that, whatever ends up happening with this prophecy, I don’t want it to fuck her up, in the way the quests have sometimes done to us. Like, we’re used to this by now, but it hasn’t been a smooth road. I don’t exactly like going on quests, and at first I was really worried at the prospect of being included in a prophecy, since that’s fairly abnormal, but Jane was only made aware of her heritage a couple months ago! What if this turns out like Silena or Beckendorf or-or Jason, and the prophecy destroys her, and it’s all my fault because I’m the one who pulled her into all this?”

Everyone tenses up at the mention of Jason, but they continue to look at me with a mixture of concern and love that makes something soften inside of me. For the hundredth time, I think of how lucky I am to have these people who love me unconditionally. Even if they really, really need therapy.

“I know that I didn’t plan any of this, but we’re both tied in now, especially since both Chiron and I had the prophetic dream and I actually gave the prophecy that day in the woods, and, well, this isn’t her world yet. She’s only got a little bit of ichor in her, and she grew up knowing nothing of any of this. In a way, I did too, and I have no ichor, but I had clear sight. For me, it was ineffable, but she could technically leave any time, if it weren’t for the prophecy. She can leave, and I feel like it’s up to me to make sure that doesn’t change.”

“Oh, Rachel.” Annabeth reaches her arms out to me and I let myself be pulled into an embrace. “Jane’s going to be okay. We’ll make sure of it.”

Sabrina stood in line at the boat rental hut, her arms crossed and a frown plastered on her face. It had not been a successful afternoon. For hours, she’d been searching the coastal towns near where her plane landed, looking for some trace of Aeaea, or anything else she’d seen in her dream. She was used to working with dregs. It was normal for her to have to squint a little at the evidence, have to shuffle things together around big holes of “Maybe,” like she was working a jigsaw puzzle with half the pieces missing.

But this was something else.

Sabrina had read about places where mythology shaped the culture. Places where the tourist draws were events that had supposedly happened thousands of years ago, or creatures that only existed in grainy photographs and people’s imaginations. Hell, she’d met the Loch Ness monster. Was it insane for her to have assumed she’d be able to find the same kind of thing here? All her training and years of experience had told her that, if you sniff around long enough, you’ll find a conspiracy theorist or a slightly off-the-rails guidebook.

So far, though, Sabrina had found nothing. Absolutely nothing. She hunted around, searching up library catalogs, checking every store on the street. “Aeaea,” “Circe,” even “the Odyssey.”

Nothing.

The line edged along slowly, and Sabrina ran her hands up and down her arms. The air was chilly from its proximity to the cold sea water. There were three people in front of her now. She just had to wait a little longer, then she would have a boat and be able to explore these waters herself.

Something was wrong with this place. Something was wrong with all of these places. And Sabrina was going to figure out what.

Later, Jane and I are taking our time walking to the pegasus stables to watch the riding lesson that Rosalind has reluctantly agreed to let Batty take (provided that Percy, who’s teaching today, doesn’t let her fly high enough that she’ll die if she falls off, and that Batty wears all of the necessary protective gear). Jane looks lovely, wearing a sunshine-y yellow bandana that sets off her dark curls and warm sepia skin. She has on her Camp Half-Blood shirt again, and a short green skirt, and all of it should clash horribly, but it doesn’t.

We’ve decided to cut through the strawberry fields, and I swallow a sun-warmed strawberry while Jane tells me about the dream she had last night. I think back to my conversation with Annabeth this morning when she tells me of the dark woods and the feeling of drowning, the memory warping and the echoing voice. At some point we sit down in a patch of grass, a simple circle amidst strawberry plants with a couple logs where the campers and satyrs take their breaks when they work here. Jane finishes her story and we sit in comfortable silence for a few moments, only broken by the grunts of annoyance Jane makes while trying to get her plant powers to activate again. She’s been doing that a lot.

“Well that sucks,” I say finally. “Have you been having other dreams like it?”

Jane shrugs, the neon orange fabric of her shirt wrinkling on her shoulders. “One or two, I think. Last night’s was the first one I really remembered. ” She smiles out of the corner of her mouth. “I hardly ever remember my dreams. It used to upset me. I thought I was losing potential writing material.”

I laugh. It’s such a Jane thing to think, that I can’t help it. She goes quiet, like she’s reminiscing, and I picture a tiny version of Jane, sitting crossed-legged on her summer quilt, writing. I look at her now, scrunched up nose and big brown eyes. Oh gods, she must have been an adorable child.

“My mother used to say that my imagination was the eighth wonder of the world,” Jane says. She’s looking down the hill at the cabins, plant powers temporarily forgotten, and I remember her telling me about her mother, the first Elizabeth Penderwick, who came here and was a daughter of Demeter and loved opera. The Penderwick siblings’ beloved mother who died so young.

I move closer to Jane on the log. “I can understand why she’d say that.”

Jane smiles again, a little sad this time, a little absent, but full to the brim with love.

“Bet you she’s in Elysium,” I say softly. I explained the Underworld to Jane a couple weeks ago, and she’d gotten this same absent look on her face, that I now know means she’s thinking about her mother. Jane nods, now, then turns to me. “Could we talk about something else?” Her voice is quiet, her eyes a little shiny.

“Course,” I say. “Shall I regale you with tales of dimwittery at this camp in the years past?” I told her last week about the time some Hermes kids tried to order pizza to the camp, accidently causing Chiron to think we were under attack. Jane had nearly fallen off the bench laughing.

She grins now, but shakes her head. “Tell me what it’s like being an Oracle.” I give her a look. She’s asked me before and I never really know what to say. When I give prophecies, it’s like I black out. I’m taken over by another entity who shares my body. (“Like that lady in Suicide Squad ,” Leo had said when I tried to explain it to him once, but I’d refused to be compared to such a gods-fucking-awful movie). So, in a way, I don’t know what it’s like to be the Oracle.

As if reading my thoughts, Jane shakes her head. “Not that part. I’ve seen you all green and smokey, and I know you can’t feel it. I mean the other stuff. How did you know it was you? What did you have to do to become the Oracle? That kind of thing.” I relax a little. Jane’s asked me all sorts of weird questions about Greek mythology and the gods recently. She calls it “research for her book,” but sometimes I think she’s just nosy. It’s cute.

Jane shrugs and looks off into the distance. If you tilt your head a little you can kind of see the stables from here. We have fifteen more minutes to get there, according to my watch. I decide to take it easy. “Delphi is this weird ethereal spirit,” Jane continues, “but there’s also just everyday, Oracle you, who likes paint and denim and bagels.” At that, I laugh. “I actually don’t like bagels that much. I’m just late to breakfast so often that they’re usually the only things available.”

Jane pouts at me and plays with the bracelet tied around my wrist--the one she gave me. “You know what I mean! You know all this weird shit about me because my siblings don’t shut up at lunch, and I know stuff about you, like the denim thing, which I still think is funny by the way. But you’re also the freaking Oracle! Your dormant self lies waiting!” I laugh at her, and she rolls her eyes, but I see the corner of her mouth tilting up. “Rachel, that’s very cool!”

I give in. “Honestly, there’s not much to say, that’s why I don’t talk about it.” I pause. “Well no, it’s that a lot of the stuff beyond the obvious is actually sort of creepy and weird, and not in a good way. There’s stuff I try not to think about, is what I mean.”

The edge of her yellow bandana sticks up as Jane tilts her head at me. “That makes sense. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

I shake my head. “No, it feels okay right now.” I mean it. Now that I’ve gotten into the swing of it, I do want to talk about it. Still, a small sigh escapes me. “I like being the Oracle, because that’s what brought me to a place where I feel like I belong and I have people who love me. It’s nice to know that I’m fulfilling my purpose in life.”

Jane pulls her knees up to her chest. “But?”

“But I also get lonely.” It comes out in a rush. “There are other oracles, but I didn’t know about any of them until the Apollo thing happened, and even then, they’re all supernatural beings--I know, I know, but not in the way I am. It’s not the same. Also, there are all these weird rules. Like I have to stay an unmarried virgin my whole life.”

“That’s fucked,” Jane says softly.

“I know! Chiron won’t even tell me why, just that it’s ‘the rules’” I let out an annoyed huff. “And, like, it’s not even that the idea itself bothers me. That’s pretty much what I was planning to do with my life anyway.”

“Same.”

“But it’s the principle of the thing!” I flick a strand of hair out of my face, offhandedly noticing that the tip of my pinky finger is slightly green. I ignore it. It’s not important. “Just because I don’t want to have sex or get married doesn’t mean it’s a fair rule to impose on me! Besides, why is it always the women in these things whose identities are tied up in who they do or don’t fuck? Last I checked, Grover didn’t have to sign an ‘I shalt not fornicate’ contract when he became Lord of the Wild!”

“Exactly!” Jane raises her hands and shouts up to the sky. “Don’t you fuckers realize we’re more than that?”

“The Hunters of Artemis, too!” I’m a jack-in-the-box, and something’s winding me up. “Thalia and Reyna send me letters all the time, and they seem really happy! Which is great!” I pause to emphasize the greatness of their happiness. My pinky is completely green, now. “But, they also had to make a stupid ‘ode of chastity,’ like I did!”

“Are you kidding me?” Jane’s hair flips as she turns to me. “I thought Artemis was one of the good ones!”

My voice lowers to a husky rumble, and I stare into the distance towards you, the reader. “In a broken system, there are no good ones. Abolish the police.” I clear my throat and my voice turns back to normal. “Sorry, zoned out for a second.” My green pinky has begun to vibrate.

“Happens to the best of us,” Jane’s voice is light and nonchalant. “And yeah, I know. Pretty much all of the gods have skeletons sitting on their shoulders, but it just seems out of character for her. I thought all of Artemis’s groups were supposed to be safe havens, not oppressive structures in their own right.”

I frown. “Yeah you’re right, that is weird. I’d never thought of it much beyond the gods having weird rules, but I wonder if something bigger is at play. The gods might be fucked up in the way that regular people are, and are undoubtedly responsible for all sorts of crap. But then there's more personal things, like the ‘chastity vows’ the Hunters and I had to take, and the fact that Nico was initially outed by Eros, and the weird unexplained eye condition that Piper had during some of her quests that made her eyes a bunch of bright, Eurocentric colors, rather than their natural brown. All sorts of other stuff, too.”

“Wow!” Jane says, sitting up straight on the grass. Her hand moves from where it was resting in her lap to cover her heart. “It’s almost like a bunch of genuinely good and inspiring material, such as including prominent queer people and characters of color in fun children’s fantasy, as well as having an immortal group of warrior women who support each other and are free from the gaze of men, was taken into the hands of a cis white man armed with unchecked misogyny and a fair amount of white Twitter feminism, both of which really showed when he tried to create an inclusive and empowering book series for children! Like yeah, it had its moments, and definitely some good characters, but overall, a lack of meaningful research in certain areas really made it fall flat!” Once again, I stare through the bindings of URLs and internet coding, now joined by Jane as we lock eyes with you, the reader. This time, we hold eye contact for nearly a minute, giving you time to read and process the long tangent spat out by this fanfic’s author, who, if we’re being honest, has gone just a tad off the rails right now. Finally, Jane and I look away from you, and resume our roles as fictional characters, still shaking off that strange cloud that comes with staring into the soul of those who give you life.

“Ugh, what’s going on with me today?” Jane groans at the same time I mutter, “What’s Twitter?” We turn to each other, blinking in the sunlight, then grin. This is normal. We’re fine. Jane looks up at the sky again. “I wonder if the gods are watching us. Maybe we should make them think we suck so they’ll leave you alone.”

I laugh as she sticks her tongue out, grinning wickedly at a nearby cloud. “Better yet, make them think we’re too powerful to be messed with,” I say. Jane sees me watching her and opens her mouth, sucking the cloud in between her teeth. The sky seems bluer in the space where it had been, and Jane’s eyes glitter with mirth as she swallows. “Mmm, tastes like sugar.” I giggle, feeling a small shiver on the top of my head. When I peer up, I see another cloud has floated over to me. I open my own mouth, and take it in, just as Jane did hers. “Sugar, yes. But there’s a touch of blood, too,” I say. Jane nods sagely. “What were we talking about?”

“The inherent misogyny in much of Greek mythology and the world of Camp Half-Blood in general.”

Jane nods again. “Right. A very important topic. It makes it weird when I’m writing sometimes. You know, cause I want to bring in Circe and Zeus and Apollo and all these fascinating characters, but there’s just so much bad stuff tied up with them that comes up when I research.” She looks down at our feet, which are standing in the midst of a strawberry patch. We seem to have been walking, crushing sweet summer strawberries as we go, which is odd because I don’t remember getting up. “You know Rachel, I’m feeling a bit strange.”

I look at her, and see an odd blankness in her warm brown eyes. “Now that you mention it, Jane, so am I.”

“My thoughts and words are my own,” Jane says, “But there’s something up with my body. I can’t really feel it.”

“I agree, I’ve honestly gone a bit numb.” I try to glance down at my fingers, wondering idly if they’ve gotten any more green, but find that my neck won’t bend.

Jane’s eyebrows furrow. “Yet, at the same time, I feel as though I could do anything. Grow another grass blade. Grow a flower. Grow a tree. Bend the world to my will if I wanted to.”

“Or is it the world bending me to its will.” I grin at my own philosophical point, but find that the smile won’t go away. Pretty fucking inconvenient, since the next thing I was going to bring up was part of the whole serious misogyny conversation. I decide to go for it anyway. “And I’m not the only one with weird rules!” Jane nods, as if this is a perfectly normal segway, and the only extraneous thought that floats through my mind as we find ourselves walking down a hill is how unfair it is that she still has control over her neck and I don’t. “Remember when I told you about the Hunters of Artemis?”

“Oh yeah! Your friends Reyna and Thalia, right?”

“Yeah, them! They send me letters sometimes, and seem really happy, which is great.” I pause, meaning to add emphasis, when I’m hit with a great sensation of deja-vu. “Wait a second, we already talked about this, didn’t we?” I try to remember, but something in my mind is rapidly melting. I cannot find it. I cannot find anything.

“Jane?” My voice quivers, and I squeeze my eyes shut. Oh gods, please let this be a dream. For a moment, I try to convince myself that it’s the Oracle of Delphi taking over, just like she did the other day and generally does a couple times a year. But I know that I’m lying. This is not what that feels like. “Jane, where are you?” I can barely move my mouth to say the words. I can feel nothing but the frozen fear of paralysis, of lost control. When I open my eyes, this other thing in my body has brought me to the edge of the forest. “Jane? Jane?” She could be right beside me, unable to speak, and I wouldn’t know because I can’t turn my head, can’t move my eyes, can barely even hear right now.

It’s okay, something says.

“Jane?” It’s not her voice. It’s no one’s voice.

It’s okay. You’re home.

With every cut the wooden oars made through the choppy ocean water, Sabrina knew she was getting closer. She could feel it in her bones, in her brain, a little voice that whispered in her ear. It had been three hours. Her body was worn down, energy levels dipping dangerously low, when she felt something scrape the bottom of her boat.

A rock.

Frantically, she peered through the fog that had begun to surround her boat a mile ago. The island. Had she finally made it?

As if answering her call, a peel of thunder rang out, and Sabrina’s boat began to fill with rain that pounded down from the sky. The storm from her dream. She rowed even faster, then, fear sparking a renewed strength in her tired muscles.

Just as Sabrina was about to reach the shore, a massive wave crashed over her, and her boat capsized. She came back up, sputtering, holding her sopping wet bag above her head. Another wave swept against Sabrina’s face, and she found herself spitting out a mouthful of saltwater. Finally, she washed up on the shore, heaving breaths raking through her lungs.

Sabrina blinked, pushing herself up onto her elbows. It was real. She was here.

She had made it.

FROM THE POV OF ROSALIND PENDERWICK

It’s been a pleasant day so far. Breakfast with my siblings and some of the Demeter cabin (though Jane did seem a bit absent-minded). Miranda, Florien, and Rio convinced me to practice some plant magic with them for a couple hours and I built up to growing a small sunflower. Lunch (again with Jane seeming distracted, though Rachel ate with us this time, which appeared to help). Then, Skye and Jeffrey disappeared with some of the older campers (supposedly for a regular game of soccer, but the unsettling gleam in their eyes had me doubting that was all there was too it), Jane and Rachel went to take a walk in the strawberry fields, and Batty and I were left to prepare for a pegasus riding lesson. If it had been up to Batty, the latter could have easily taken up the entire afternoon, but changing into durable pants and finding a bandana can only take so long.

After a somewhat restless hour, during which I grew three peonies and Batty rhapsodized about the stable of unicorns that another demigod camp apparently has, Batty and I arrive at the stable. We’re ten minutes early, and she’s been talking a mile a minute the whole time, not stopping from before. I swear I now know as much about pegasuses as she does. According to Rachel, the teacher today is Percy, her friend, who’s very responsible “when he puts his mind to it.” I wasn’t sure how to tell her that’s actually not very comforting, but Batty looked so excited and I figured there will be plenty of other people there, so. Why not. She’s been spending so much time there anyway.

Needless to say, I very much regret my decision now.

The stables are modest, made of wood and painted green, and I’ve been there several times by now. There’s a long line of stalls visible when we first walk in, but Batty skips straight to the far end, where a massive pegasus the color of a carrot pokes its head over the door and nuzzles Batty’s hair. She looks up at me with a smile that could melt anyone’s heart, and pats the horse on the nose. “Rosy, this is Queen Lotus Flower. Percy said we have a impenetrable bond.”

I look at the two of them with a questioning gaze. How can they both have the exact same puppy-dog eyes? I swear to god. The gods. All of them. “Batty, sweetheart. That horse is like ten feet tall.”

She nods enthusiastically. “I know, she’s so much taller than any other horse I’ve seen. Percy says she has the biggest wingspan of any horse at camp.”

I nod, slowly, wondering why my sister picked the biggest pegasus to fall in love with. At that moment, Percy pushes the door open. “Hey Batty! Ready for your lesson?” Batty leaves her post by Queen Lotus Flower to wrap her arms around my waist and nod. I look Percy over. He’s a few inches taller than me, with brown skin and curly hair. A beaded camp necklace, orange tshirt, and jeans. Weird arm tattoo aside, he’s one of the most normal-looking people at camp. I’ve only met him a couple times before, but, my nerves over Batty flying around on massive horses aside, I do trust him. Rachel seems to have a good taste in friends. Also, Batty likes him, and she’s still shy around a good number of Skye and Jane’s friends back in Cameron.

For the next few minutes, I watch as Percy instructs Batty on buckling Queen Lotus Flower’s giant saddle and looping the bridle over her nose. Not wavering a bit from the “lesson” aspect of all this, he steps back to let her show what she’s already learned from hanging around the stables so often, only stooping in to guide her when she gets confused. As the minutes tick by, more people show up for the lesson: three other students, and a good sized crowd of people who just like watching the pegasuses. By then, I’m seated on the grass outside the stables, soaking in the blistering sun and watching as Percy (seated atop a wiry black pegasus who Batty pointed out as Blackjack) darts around the large dusty enclosure, making final preparations for the lesson.

Skye and Jeffrey show up then, and sit on either side of me. I want to ask them where Jane and Rachel are, but they’re talking non-stop about a game they just played in the woods with some of the other campers, only switching the subject when Percy and Blackjack return and they begin discussing whether or not it should be scientifically possible for a horse to fly.

Just as Batty and Queen Lotus Flower begin a gentle trot around the enclosure, I feel a tap on my shoulder, and hear the familiar sound of Tommy’s chuckle. “She’s got a weird knack for that,” he says. I nod, grinning.

It’s been good with us. We’ve had breakfast together a few times, even played a game of basketball one afternoon. Our conversations aren’t the same as they used to be, and there’s a sense of newness that feels cold and strange every so often. But it’s good. It feels right. At least for now, this feels like where we’re supposed to be.

As Percy starts demonstrating how to take flight, I look around again. Jane and Rachel still aren’t here. They promised to come. (“For moral support!” Jane had said. “Wouldn’t miss it,” Rachel had added with a smile). I try to push it out of my head. This lesson is a big deal. Batty’s going to be flying.

She leans forward on Queen Lotus Flower’s neck.

They begin to run, moving together like a single being.

Just as they burst into the air, Batty’s euphoric smile lighting up the sky, Katie grabs my shoulders from behind. I shush her so I can lean forward and watch Batty silhouetted against the pegasus’s wide orange wings.

“Rosalind. Rosalind, guys. ” Something about the panic in Katie’s voice makes me turn around. Her usually tied back hair is loose and her clothes rumpled, giving the impression that she was dragged out of bed for this. (Some part of my brain distantly remembers her saying she was going to take a nap). Skye and Jeffrey turn around, too.

“What, what’s happening?” I reach out my hands, trying to calm her as she collapses into a squat, breathing heavily.

“Billie… found me in the cabin… had been looking for you guys… been running all over the camp… lucky I remembered about the riding lesson…”

Jeffrey leans over and puts his hands on her shoulders. She stares down at the dirt while her breathing levels.

“Katie, what are you saying? Why were you and Billie looking for us?”

She looks up, and I see that her forehead is drawn into well-worn creases of worry. “Jane and Rachel have gone into the woods.”

Something was wrong. Sabrina crouched on the wet sand, straining to see through the heavy rain. In her dream there had definitely been someone else on the island. She remembered the hunched figure, the sound of sobs leaking through the rain.

But she’d circled the shore at least twice by now, and there was nobody to be found. “Am I late or something?” she wondered aloud. Somehow, she’d gotten that dream It felt like it had been sent to her. Why did it show a person when there was no one?

Sabrina sighed and began to traipse inland, tucking a knife in her pocket. It wasn’t a big island, and she might as well find some shelter aside from her boat, which was now overturned somewhere on the beach. Circe lived here, didn’t she? There must be some sort of roof, especially if this kind of weather was standard.

Or maybe this was just a random island and there was no Aeaea and Sabrina’s dream had just been the unhinged work of her unconscious mind.

There was a small grassy hill set aside from the sand, which Sabrina crawled up with the determination of a dying warrior. Something was pushing her back. An invisible force, a last crumb of survival instinct, plain old fatigue, she wasn’t sure. But something wanted her out of here, and it pushed back harder and harder as she climbed.

She let out a cry of frustration, clawing at the ground, at the air, at whatever this goddamn thing was, and found a renewed burst of strength that pulled her to the top of the hill. Once there, the force that pushed back ebbed a little, like it was giving up. Sabrina let herself relax, and simply took in the view for a moment.

The hill she lay on top of gave way to a deep valley, sprawling and green. In one corner, there was a cluster of trees that looked healthy and comfortable, despite being on a random Greek island in the middle of the ocean. A modest garden lay next to it, somehow appearing unaffected by the rain, and a narrow river wound around the whole scene.

There was also a house.

Sabrina wasn’t sure what she might have expected from the lair of an infamous Greek enchantress, but it wasn’t this.

She hauled herself up on the hill and started down, rushing through the rain onto a wide wooden porch. There was a large stone vat of something dark and crumbly, with a heavy looking staff of sorts leaning against it. The door to the house was short, and Sabrina heard it scrape on the floor when she pushed it open.

The scene awaiting her was surprisingly cozy when she stepped inside. There was a fire in the hearth and rows upon rows of little viles arranged on a set of shelves beside it. A broom leaned against the wall. Sabrina looked around, noting the way that the rain didn’t make any sound as it thrashed against the roof and window, and the almost drug-like stupor that threatened to take over her brain, whispering that everything was fine, she was safe, nothing bad could happen to her.

Sabrina had encountered hypnosis before, and it only ever made her more jittery.

There was an open hatch in the floor with stairs that lead into darkness. She followed them down, feeling the air grow cooler with every step. Sabrina was quiet, taking tiny steps on her toes, and wincing when one of the stairs creaked. She didn’t know what was down there, and she didn’t want to find out the hard way. But there were no arrows flying up from the space below, no sounds of footsteps or slashes of swords.

Sabrina stepped onto a dirt floor and let herself exhale, shuffling along until her toe hit something hard. Only seasoned reflexes made her reach for the knife in her pocket instead of crying out in fear. She knelt down and squinted in the darkness, trying to see what she’d hit.

A leg.

She frowned, shaking it until she heard a low growl. “Stop that.” She stopped.

“Who are you?” Sabrina leaned closer. If they hadn’t killed her yet she was probably safe.

Instead of answering, they reached out a hand. Sabrina could see a gold ring on the thumb that glinted in a little sliver of light that had crept down from the room above. “Pull me up,” the figure said. “I’ve been paralyzed by the witch.”

Helping the stranger sit turned out to be no simple feat. They were tall and muscular, wearing a cape and a heavy metal chest plate. “The witch?” she questioned, propping them up against one of the cellar’s dirt walls. Her eyes were beginning to adust to the dark, and she could just make out their sharp chin sticking out as their head lolled back.

The figure made a noise. “The witch, the sorceress, the woman. Whatever you want to call her. I figure she sent you down too?” They snorted. “Good luck. I told Zeus not to sent mortals, but does he ever listen? You’re gonna die.”

Sabrina tried to piece together what she could from all this. The witch must be Circe, unless she’d wound up on an entirely different island. And if Circe was going around paralyzing people, then something must be going on. She must be hiding something. As for the person in front of her, Sabrina wasn’t sure who they were. By the way they talked about Zeus, and casually said “mortals,” she’d guess some sort of god? As if that narrowed it down. She’d have to be careful.

“Why did she paralyze you?”

Another weird gutteral noise. “She didn’t like my offer. It’s not the first time this has happened.”

She was growing impatient. Why’d he have to be so vague? “What?”

“Yeah, I don’t know why he always sends me. I don’t think he trusts me. He’d rather me stay her paralysed in the basement of a witch than come back home.”

Sabrina let out an exasperated sigh. This wasn’t working and she needed answers. A whole coast of people with mythology-shaped holes in their memories awaited her. “You’re going to need to be a little more specific. I don’t think we’re on the same page.”

The figure sounded confused. “What do you mean? Don’t you know who I am?”

She leaned forward and inspected them in the darkness. “No. No I don’t.”

They slid their eyes down to her face. “I am the god Apollo. I came here for Circe and she did this to me.”

“What? Why?”

The stairs creaked behind Sabrina and she felt a long nail drag up her back. “I just want to be left alone,” said a voice as deep and powerful as the smell of red wine. “You don’t mind, do you?” Before Sabrina could grab her knife and turn around, before she could even scream, strong arms had surrounded her shoulders and a hand was clamping a damp cloth over her nose and mouth. Shock made her breath in, sharply, and she smelled the sweetness of sleeping drugs.

A heartbeat, a brief struggle, and Sabrina Starr was gone.

#cruel summer fic #cameron writes #the penderwicks #penderwicks #camp half blood #camp half-blood #rachel elizabeth dare #jane penderwick #rosalind penderwick

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florrickandassociates · 5 years ago

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TGF Thoughts: 4x02-- The Gang Tries to Serve a Subpoena

Under the cut.

This isn’t the first episode of season 4, but since it’s the first episode that doesn’t take place in an AU… it’s basically the first episode.

Reddick, Boseman, and Lockhart has been rebranded as “RBL: A division of STR Laurie”. Remember when Will tried to rebrand Lockhart/Gardner as “LG”? At least RBL isn’t a well-known appliance brand. But I think this might be the same “sleek” font as the LG rebrand.

The acquisition of the firm has led to a remodel. I enjoy how every season RBL looks a little bit less like the LG set.

This remodel makes the offices look like a spaceship/villain’s lair/cyberpunk nightclub. There is a giant spiky cocoon thing (nope, I don’t have better words to describe that) coming out of the ceiling in the conference room and a new spiral staircase near the name partners’ offices. It looks ridiculous and intimidating (and it is supposed to).

There are also dogs roaming around off lash.

And neon lights and a giant fucking GARGOYLE outside of Adrian’s office. It’s so huge it looks like it was taken from the Harold Washington Library. (This may be the most authentically Chicago thing in this episode.)

Much like the last episode, the first thing we see after the teaser is Diane arriving at work and being greeted by Marissa. And, also much like the last episode, Diane is disoriented.

As it turns out, there’s been a bit of a time jump since the end of the last episode-- Diane’s been traveling/resting (doctor’s orders), so this is her first day back to work in 9 months. “What happened here?” Diane asks. Does it make sense a name partner would be so out of the loop on major renovations? Nah. We are not meant to spend much time wondering why Diane/Adrian/Liz would agree to an acquisition or how the talks played out. This is the premise for season 4 and we’re just supposed to accept it. I’m usually wary of this kind of re-premising, but this doesn’t bug me too much. We saw last season the firm had no identity (bc when the firm had an identity in season 1 it was ALL BC OF BARBARA KOLSTAD) and we saw them lose their top clients. Diane’s been on leave so she probably wasn’t that involved in conversations, Adrian probably welcomes acquisition because it’s more money, and Liz… has always only been idealistic to a point.

My point is: our heroes aren’t actually, and have never been, heroes. Sure, they’re the underdogs dealing with a big corporation… but also, they sold to the big corporation.

Marissa says the cocoon spike thing is a sunset. K.

Jay’s never been up to STR Laurie’s floor. The dogs running around, however, have been upstairs. Monday and Wednesday are pet days, but the pets always come through the RBL floor instead of the STR Laurie floor.

The name partners can bring dogs. (How many name partners are there if there are this many dogs and STR Laurie is at most 4 people and RBL is 3 and none of the RBL partners brought in dogs?)

JUSTICE FOR JUSTICE! (Poor Justice is probably not still around 11 years later but I had to say it.)

In the partners’ meeting, even the food everyone’s eating looks more upscale. Adrian officially welcomes Diane back. One of the non-name partners is not so happy to have her back. Or, rather, he’s not so happy the name partners got a ton of money in the deal and the non-name partners got screwed. Fair point.

I guess neither Lucca nor Rosalyn got the partnership.

Adrian expositions that they were acquired because they couldn’t survive after losing ChumHum, and STR Laurie is the 7th largest firm in the world. Got it.

Diane’s check from the acquisition of the firm is so huge it stuns her. You would think she would have known these details. But we’re here now and this show works better if you look at the themes instead of wanting all of the character motivations to always make sense. I’d probably be chewing this plot out if it happened on TGW-- why would x make y decision!? Why didn’t we get to see it!?-- but with TGF I have an easier time accepting radical changes in tone.

And TGF did need a change in tone. You can’t get that much mileage out of episodes about 45 (whose name might not even be mentioned this ep? I will try to look out for that as I watch) and clearly no one on the writing staff is interested in small, character driven intraoffice power struggles as the primary plots. If the writers have something to say about massive corporations, I’d rather sacrifice a few scenes of character development for a season that has a POV than sit through a season as uninspired as s7 of TGW.

(Perhaps this is why I’ve always liked TGW season 6 more than others-- it’s messy, but it’s INTERESTING. I like the Kings’ work best when it has energy and say what you will about season 6, but it’s not lacking for energy.)

There is a dog peeing on Adrian’s office door and he is NOT happy about it (no one would be, but he is ESPECIALLY fed up). One gets the sense he’s not just appalled that it’s happening but tired of the dogs altogether.

Diane is summoned to go upstairs to meet with the overlords. According to Adrian, Mr. Laurie isn’t bad, but Mr. Firth might be.

Upstairs, there is a very long, very white hallway. It looks like it’s out of a sci-fi movie.

I see TGF has finally leaned in to their tradition of casting British actors by just… having STR Laurie be a British firm.

The set decoration of Mr. Firth’s office looks like it belongs on Evil. It’s over the top, has a piece of art that looks like horns (much like the therapist monster thingy… just watch Evil okay) and light fixtures that are clearly crosses.

Mr. Firth asks Diane what she wants to do and she says she wants to get back to work. “What work?” he asks. Diane wants to get back to her clients and Mr. Firth tells a story about a poor man who wanted to give everything, even the moon, to a thief. Neither Diane nor I understand. Mr. Firth says this story is about how he’s giving Diane her “moon” by having her head up their pro-bono cases because she shines when she has a goliath to face. True, but what does this have to do with the story!? I legit thought that story was going to be about how Diane gives too much of herself and should learn to accept high pay checks while doing no work and getting out of STR Laurie’s way. Maybe I missed something?

Anyway, Diane is getting the pro bono department with 22 lawyers and 40 cases. This is to keep her happy and to make STR Laurie look good. Feels too good to be true. Diane gets investigator time and partner billable hours, and she’s told this is fine-- make the firm a good citizen no matter how much it costs. WTF is going on here? Is this a trick?

Diane walks downstairs, happy, as Lucca heads up the stairs. Maybe she’s not a partner, but she’s important enough to be summoned upstairs.

Mr. Firth explains to Lucca that he is “the sorting hat of lawyers.” Lucca explains she’s never read Harry Potter because she doesn’t “like wizard shit.” Impressively brave to say that to your new overlord, Lucca. I have missed you and your give no fucks attitude.

“Yes, fuck wizard shit,” Mr. Firth responds, somewhat stiltedly.

Mr. Firth wants Lucca to work on a divorce case for one of their top clients as the client has a personality clash with their head of family law. Their head of family law is, of course, David Lee. Welcome back, I guess. At least David Lee happening to end up at this firm that acquired RBL makes a ton more sense than all the ways they found to keep David Lee relevant to TGW in its last two seasons.

David Lee hasn’t changed a bit.

Diane’s first client is XIOMARA VILLANUEVA!!!!!!

But in this universe, she’s a restaurant owner whose restaurant is about to be torn down because of eminent domain. Diane tries one of her usual tricks- asking Xo (I’m sure she has a name on this show and once they say it again I will stop calling her Xo) to bring her food truck outside of the courthouse so everyone can smell how great her food is and be more sympathetic to her case.

“You’re not the lawyer I expected,” Xo tells Diane. Diane responds, “I’ve changed.” Diane, I am pretty sure that’s not what she meant, but ok!

Lucca and David Lee’s first meeting with Bianca Skye, the high profile client, is a bit awkward, but Bianca instantly takes a liking to Lucca. (“I didn’t know this firm had any black lawyers,” Bianca notes. “Oh, they hide us,” Lucca jokes. But it’s not really a joke when all the black lawyers are the RBL staff and they’re on a different floor…)

David Lee has Bianca tell Lucca her whole case-- which is fairly straightforward-- with way too much detail. Before Lucca asks David if he’s just trying to run up billable hours, it’s clear he’s dragging this out on purpose.

“Oh good, the Angry Black Woman has made an appearance,” awful human being David Lee says after Lucca calls him out.

David Lee plays rank on her and tells her to watch and learn. Yes, making a racist comment and then being condescending without explaining your strategy is DEFINITELY the way to get the lawyer characterized by her complete lack of interest in being a cog in a machine on your side.

Adrian, Liz, and Barry are all helping Diane do a mock trial before her first day back in court. It’s fun.

Adrian is SO over the dogs. His face when a pack of them run past is priceless.

Diane’s mock trial strategy goes well; the evidence is on her side. And Julius, as luck would have it, is the judge on this case. (Why this is in federal court I don’t know.)

Julius is very happy to be a judge.

Canning is back. Feels weird to have him here without Alicia. But, honestly, I was prepared for worse. As we’ll see as this scene progresses, Canning is the PERFECT person to have as opposing counsel. If there’s a new rule to exploit, he’d be the first to know about it. If there’s a slimy strategy to use while playing innocent, that’s his schtick. If there’s a corporation doing bad things, he’s your guy.

Canning tries to explain his condition to Julius. I guess Julius must have been in the New York office when Canning was at LG in late season 5. Diane laughs, knowing that Julius can’t be tricked by Canning.

Canning probably also knows it won’t work, because he’s already prepared to ask Julius to recuse himself. I feel like this is entirely reasonable. Diane isn’t just an acquaintance… they were partners at the same firm for over a decade.

Diane is TOTALLY the type of white lady to overdo the pronunciation of “chorizo”.

The delicious smelling food seems like it’s going to work, but we quickly learn that what used to constitute tricky is now just child’s play. The CEO of Rare Orchard, who has been subpoenaed, has decided not to show up. He doesn’t have an excuse. He isn’t delaying. He’s just not going to show up. Like, remember when we thought it was egregious that the CEO Canning was defending in 4x11 kept putting off depositions and Alicia calling the judge was an effective strategy? HA! (Anyone know if this case is based on something or if it’s the writers taking some creative liberties for the sake of plot? My fear is that aspects of it are real because I can’t see the writers being this interested in a plot point they invented.)

Canning says he thinks the CEO doesn’t recognize the legitimacy of the subpoena. Julius reminds Canning that he is a federal judge and his subpoena is legitimate. Canning is all, “yes, I know that’s your position” as though laws are opinions. AAAAAAAAA.

This show loves this kind of thing, just totally taking the basic assumptions away and letting chaos reign.

This CEO sent Julius a memo telling him to “go fuck yourself.” Eeek.

Diane doesn’t even get to do much lawyering.

Then there is a random cut (which I hate) to a scene of a massive set falling apart during a battle scene. Why the fuck is this here? And what is this from? If I ff to the credits will it tell me? Nope. Dammit. Someone help me out here.

Credits! Things are exploding again, yay! Aside from the images on the TV, these credits look really similar to S3. I think they may have increased the saturation on the color of the liquids exploding but I could be making things up.

Julius’s outrage at the situation continues after the credits.

David Lee tries to get Lucca to agree to just be comforting to the client. Lucca is like, no, because I was brought on for a reason I am going to do my job.

DLee calls this “PC shit” and says something else racist. Bianca answers the door and asks to do the depo prep on the run. What this means is that they’re all getting on her private jet and going to St. Lucia.

David Lee is TERRIFIED of the private jet. I would be too since I hate small planes (and all planes, but particularly small ones), but I am still enjoying watching him squirm. Lucca is too.

Lucca DELIGHTS in reminding David they’re in a small metal tube with nothing holding them up. It’s fantastic.

Bianca offers David Lee a CBD cocktail, because of course she does. This episode is doing a good job of reminding me of why David Lee and Canning were both once really effective characters, so if the writers can use them this way moving forward, I’ll be happy.

Bianca googled Lucca and demands to see pictures of her very cute baby. She then takes Lucca’s phone and starts up Tinder. This is a strange dynamic because it’s friendly but also sudden and also Bianca is paying Lucca for this time. But both of them could use friends, so I’m just going to be cautiously optimistic a real friendship could grow out of this.

David Lee chugging a CBD cocktail is most definitely something I needed in my life. Thank you writers!

Our characters are wealthy but everyone they deal with in this episode is ultrawealthy. Like, disgustingly wealthy. Bianca seems nice but holy shit no one needs to fly to St. Lucia for lunch.

Court stuff happens. This episode is more interesting than just “court stuff happens” but the point is pretty simple-- Julius gets increasingly outraged at the breakdown of the system he believes in, and things keep getting more and more bizarre.

Julius turns to the corrupt judge Adrian is sleeping with (I think the writers need to tell me what I am supposed to think of her because… I just don’t understand who she’s supposed to be, unless “corrupt judge who creeps me out yet for some reason Adrian is still into” is the point OR unless I am supposed to see her corruption as somehow excusable... ) for advice. She calls their job “shadow play” and says the system is all fake. That would explain why she’s open to bribery, then. She agrees to help Julius get the CEO into court, but I think she’s just helping to illustrate how futile this will be if he tries to resist again.

David Lee also doesn’t like the food on the island. It’s so funny.

Lucca’s dress is really cute.

Bianca says Lucca must think she’s crazy for flying just to get guava for lunch. Lucca says, “No, it’s just a very different lifestyle from mine.” That’s an understatement. Bianca’s life changed in the last few years, and she’s worried it’s all going to go away (so, it’s implied, she’s living it up now). It seems she has some sort of skincare/cosmetics empire.

Bianca is worried that in the next recession (oh look at that timely comment), her products will be the first thing people cut back on. Curious to know if this is happening.

Bianca’s other concern is that she has no friends now because she’s rich. Everyone wants something. “You’re so full of shit,” Lucca says, refusing to pity Bianca. This makes Bianca like her more.

Bianca talks about a service to matchmake friends. She found it weird, but she doesn’t find “this” (befriending Lucca, even though she is probably paying Lucca WAY more than the friend matchmaker fee) weird. Lucca is always entering into friendships so formally! Okay it’s just two scenes (this one and the one where she and Alicia become friends) but still.

Lucca reminds Bianca she’s also her lawyer.

Bianca asks if DLee is drawing out the case. She’s not stupid. Lucca says David isn’t drawing it out, but I think they both know the answer.

(Question based on what happens later in the ep- if David actually has reasoning, then why in the world would he not tell Bianca OR Lucca about it? And why do they need to have overly long meetings to draw things out? Can’t they just schedule them with large gaps? Idk the whole thing is weird and if David isn’t going to share his strategy that’s on him.)

The CEO finally shows up in court and Julius thinks he’s won. He hasn’t. He says he’s asserting privilege he can’t reveal because it is privileged. The CEO acts like Julius is in the wrong, which pisses Julius off. The CEO gets held in custody and Julius says that the restaurant can’t be bulldozed until the CEO complies.

Then Julius gets the mysterious MEMO 618. Dun dun dun.

I know there must be more but I feel like we know what Memo 618 is? Like, no we don’t know who sent it or exactly what it means, but we know the effect of what it does. What is the mystery? Who sent it?

At night, Julius takes the mystery memo to Judge Hazelwood. She plays dumb because-- as we find out later-- Adrian is within earshot. Adrian’s jacket is apparently very recognizable because Julius spots it. I believe it; Adrian has a distinctive style.

Adrian talks about taking their relationship public. So Judge Hazelwood bribing people didn’t end the relationship?

Adrian also asks about Memo 618. He knows she knows what it is. She distracts him by getting on top of him.

Depositions for Bianca’s divorce get contentious but she has the upperhand. Lucca suggests that Bianca settle now and get the ex out of her life-- “balance money with psychological wellness.” Sounds reasonable to me!

At work, Judge Hazelwood is more forthcoming. And Julius did recognize the jacket. Judge Hazelwood tells Julius to let the CEO out and stop asking about the memo. Julius wants to get her on tape, but instead she tells him to get in an Uber and go to an address. She also warns that the court has a program if you break your phone. Sounds like a threat…

Julius finds the Uber easily and then goes on a long journey to the countryside. The driver, it turns out, is a former federal judge who didn’t comply with a mystery memo and he warns Julius to just do what they say or he’ll end up an Uber driver barely able to support his family. (THINK OF YOUR SIX CHILDREN, JULIUS.)

Lucca wearing heels at her standing desk is… just silly, why would she do this? She wouldn’t take off one heel to stretch her foot; she would have a pair of flats to wear in her office. (This episode is written and directed by men, just fyi.) (Do women actually do this? I hate heels so I would never even consider it, but I feel like everyone hates heels??? Even the people who wear them all the time???)

David is all mad at Lucca for encouraging Bianca to settle because it has tax implications. Two things: One, if there’s this obvious reason to delay, I feel like Lucca would have figured it out. Two, LUCCA IS ON DAVID’S SIDE. And if he’s allowed to say this out loud now, he could have said it earlier. So… no pity for David Lee. This is why you cooperate with your colleagues instead of antagonizing them.

Liz-- who has been quite underused in this episode-- is also fed up with the dogs. She and Adrian storm upstairs to say, in Adrian’s words, “they can’t use this floor as a toilet for their motherfucking dogs.”

They bust through the doors to the long hallway (which in real life would DEFINITELY have a key card reader on it) and push past the receptionist.

Mr. Firth is holding a very cute dog named Avenger. Mr. Firth also refers to Liz as “Elizabeth”.

Liz asks that the dogs stop “shitting” on their floor. After all, this was supposed to be a partnership, not an acquisition (does anyone believe that? I think Liz is just using their BS corporate talk against them). Mr. Firth says he will find a way to deal with the dogs. Adrian takes the opportunity to mention that the equity partners need their money. “How do we want to satisfy this?” Mr. Firth asks. “Give them money,” Liz says. Mr. Firth agrees to meet about this next week. He also gives Liz and Adrian access to the executive elevator. He’s just trying to appease them so they’ll be more on his side.

Liz and Adrian both recognize that was too easy, but decide to take the win. I feel like this problem is going to come back…

Julius apologizes and releases the CEO. He recuses himself but says that in the meantime the restaurant will stand.

Diane knows something’s off and confronts Julius. She’s furious but Julius asks her to leave. I wonder what Diane would’ve done in Julius’s situation. It’s very easy to become complicit…

The restaurant is torn down anyway, making Diane even angrier. She tells Julius it’s on him and he reminds her that he is a judge.

And this is how systems are perpetuated.

That’s the end of the episode, save for the message about the two week break before episode 3 from the cast and crew. I appreciate that they included this, and that they included the whole crew rather than just the Kings and the cast.

I don’t even recognize most of the crew! I recognize the cast (duh), Dan Lawson (the costume designer), the makeup artist (I think I’ve seen her in various instagram posts), Brooke Kennedy, and the Kings.

Jonathan Coulton is in the video too (he’s totally a part of the TGF family at this point-- and is one of few people to be on TGW, BrainDead, TGF, AND Evil) to lead everyone in an adorable (but somewhat out of sync) singalong. Awwww.

#the good fight #tgfthoughts

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astrozones · 5 years ago

Text

Sanders Behavioral Health, Chapter 3: Patton Will Help!

Angst Incoming

My discord server if you wanna scream at me- Astro’s Zone

my friends are lovingly cyberbullying me into tagging the man himself so uh @thatsthat24 and ope there goes my anxiety, rising up into the heavens. If you do see this I recommend reading from chapter one but im not gonna tag again unless my friends tell me to bc i dont wanna be a bother :|

Three hours.

Three hours until school ended for the day and Patton would go home for 5 minutes before heading to Sanders’.

Until then, he had to brave the school day. Patton was okay at school, but had a nasty habit of not saying no to any request, and his time between classes was spent doing favors for others. His time for lunch was limited, and his weekends were booked full. It took a toll on Patton, but he’d do anything to make others happy!

After all, others’ happiness was more important than his own.

His therapist had disagreed, which is why he was transferred to Sanders Behavioral Health. And at Sanders they said the same. Why couldn’t they understand that Patton wasn’t worthy of being happy? He didn’t do as much as he could, as much as he should , and he was a bad person.

Like that one time he had noticed a kid sitting in the seat beside him, his name was Todd, looking at his paper during a test. Patton had glanced at the teacher before nudging his paper closer to Todd, and filling out the rest. Once he noticed Todd had finished, he turned it in.

But he had gotten some of the answers wrong . Todd had been counting on him but Patton failed him, and now Todd was grounded for getting a mediocre grade.

And it was all Patton’s fault.

He tried to apologize to Todd, but had been shrugged off, Todd saying, “Eh, you don’t need to man. It was my fault for not studying.”

Todd must hate him.

The bell rang, signalling him to rush to his next class. Well, “class”. It was time for lunch.

Patton grabbed his items as quickly as he could, shoving them into his backpack. He felt guilty for zoning out in class, but the teacher was already on her computer and he didn’t want to disturb her. Once he had stuffed today’s worksheet into his bag, he slipped out, last to leave the room.

Patton held the lunch tray in his hands, looking for a place to sit. No one had asked for his lunch time yet, so he expected someone to call out to him, which was what usually happened these periods.

What he wasn’t expecting was to be cornered.

The edge of a table pierced his back as he was suddenly faced with none other than President of the Student Council (and Tennis Team), Vanessa E. Cordill. He had stumbled back, and quickly shoved his tray on the table behind him, knowing how close Vanessa liked to get to people.

“Hey, Pat! I was wondering if you could help us with preparations this weekend for next week’s volleyball game?” She batted her eyelashes at him, stepping impossibly closer.

“I-uh, I’m really sorry Vanessa, but I’m all booked this weekend.”

“Surely you could make time for me, yeah? Aren’t I your favorite?” Vanessa said sweetly. His favorite? He didn’t have a favorite, that would be unfair to the others! Patton, of course, wouldn’t say that to her, lest he hurt her feelings.

“I’m sorry, I really don’t have time! I’m doing a lot of things this weekend and don’t have any room. I barely have time to sleep and-” he was cut off as Vanessa drew a finger down his chest. “W-what are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” She purred, winking at him. Get off, get off, geT OFF-

“He already said no, Vanessa Cordill.” Came a voice from behind. Turning his head, he saw none other than Logan Danrow seated at the table he had run into. Vanessa backed up a few steps, glaring.

“Logan?” Patton asked, shuffling towards him so he was farther away from her .

“Wait, Pat, you know this prick?” Vanessa spat, very different from the person he had been talking with moments prior. He nodded.

“Well, yeah, we know each other from- er, yeah we know each other.” he stammered out, hands fiddling with his bracelets. It was getting harder to breathe.

“Again, Vanessa, he already said he was busy. You may leave, lest your boyfriend sees you.” Logan stated flatly, gaze returning to his book. Glancing back towards Vanessa, she pulled a small notepad out of her purse and scribbled something on it, handing it to him once she had ripped it out.

“Just in case you change your mind,” Was all she said before turning around and skipping back to her table to hang with her tennis friends.

Logan turned a page as Patton sat down across from him. Logan glanced back up at him in surprise.

“You want to sit here?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. “I was under the impression that you wished to sit with your friends.”

“Aw, but Logan you are one of my friends!” Patton grinned, grabbing his previously abandoned tray. “Plus, it seems no one needs my help, so until they do, I’m here! I do feel guilty, though…”

“What do you feel guilty about? I’m afraid I do not understand.” Logan stated, setting his book down.

“It’s just… I’m sure I could’ve fit Vanessa’s activity somewhere in my schedule…” he bit the inside of his cheek. “If I just cut my study time by an hour I could have fit her in, y’know?” He fiddled with the stem on his apple, breaking it off with a wince. “I probably could still tell her, actually!”

“No,” Logan said when he went to stand up. “You should not cut your study time to help someone who has enough help. Your grades are important. Vanessa will be fine.”

Patton slumped back into his seat, chewing on his lip. “I suppose… I just… I want to help people. They’re counting on me.” he wiped at a tear threatening to fall. Logan tapped his fingers against the table.

“Patton,” he started. “How often do you help people?”

“Not enough,” Patton admitted with a hiccup. “Most of my weekend is booked, but I’m sure I could do more if I moved things around. I’m sorry for invading your time, Logan, I’ll leave if you want me to.”

“Nonsense,” Logan waved his hand through the air. “I wasn’t doing much anyway. You know, most people don’t even do half the things you put yourself up for. Do you spend all your free time for others?” At Patton’s nod, he continued. “I recommend taking a weekend for yourself, at the very least.”

“I don’t know, mayb-”

“HEY PATTON! Can you help us?” a member of the Drama Club, Canin, yelled from across the cafeteria, jogging over to him. “Auditions are coming in a couple weeks and we need help choosing a musical to do!” Canin begged. Patton spared an apologetic glance at Logan before following after Canin.

In the final period of the day, the class was told to fill out a worksheet on the periodic table using stations around the room. They were separated into teams of three, Patton’s teammates being Angelica Carter and Skye Johnson. Once they were sent to a station, all three got to work. Well, Skye and Patton did.

Skye was especially smart at science, telling him their dream job was to become an astronomer one day, and to be the first nonbinary person in space. Patton told them that their name was fitting, which caused Skye to burst into giggles.

Angelica, on the other hand, wouldn’t do anything. Once Skye confronted her on it, she claimed that she couldn’t do anything because she didn’t have a pen or pencil.

Just as Patton was about to offer her a pen, he was struck by the memory of himself offering a pen to Virgil on his first day.

Whenever he offered a pen or pencil to others, he almost never got it back, and this was the same situation with Virgil.

Patton had finished filling out his paper, and once he glanced at Virgil the first thing he noticed was the pen in his hands. Patton had wanted so bad to ask for it back, since it was his second-to-last one. But he hadn’t said anything.

And now he was here, feeling guilty that we couldn’t give Angelica a writing utensil. God , this was just not his day, huh? First he couldn’t help Vanessa, then he couldn’t help the Drama Club choose between Little Shop of Horrors and Hairspray, and now didn’t even have a simple pen for Angelica. He was such a failure .

“Maybe the teacher has something?” He offered, Skye returning to the project. Angelica shrugged and walked over to Ms. Alstor.

And even when Angelica had returned, she didn’t help. At all. All Skye did was roll their eyes and mumble under their breath.

Patton didn’t say anything.

All three got an A.

Patton arrived late to Sanders’, again . He had gotten caught up once Jasmine Illes, Vice President of the Student Council, tried to convince him to help out with the volleyball event. He had just barely gotten away with his established schedule intact.

He bursted into the lobby, signing in before Katrine, the one in charge of the front desk, let him in while informing him that the group should still be in the check-in room. He rushed in, Virgil and Logan looking up at him when he entered. Roman was spinning around in his chair, but quickly stopped to greet Patton.

“Sorry I’m late! I got caught up because this girl from school, Jasmine, asked me if I could do something with the Student Council on the weekend.” he quickly announced, taking a deep breath soon after. He grabbed a sheet before plopping down in the nearest chair, taking a few moments to catch his breath.

“Jasmine Illes?” Roman asked. “I know her.” Patton raised an eyebrow.

“You go to Fieldrow? Haven’t seen you there.” Patton said, scribbling out answers.

“Oh, yeah, I just… don’t have the opportunity to go there often.” he replied, looking at the ground awkwardly. Patton was about to say something when Virgil spoke up.

“Yeah, I go there, too,” he muttered, Logan piping up in agreement.

“Aw cool! It’s still the beginning of the school year, maybe we could all join a club that meets on the weekends so we can hang out more!” Patton grinned, looking around at the others.

“I’m not very interested in joining clubs,” Logan started. “I would consider it if it were the Science or Math clubs, but neither of them meet on the weekends.”

“And I don’t really… do clubs. At all.” Virgil continued. Patton let out a small ‘aw’ before turning to Roman.

“What ‘bout you, Roman?” he asked, not acknowledging Logan’s small flinch at the bad grammar.

“Well… I suppose I was thinking about joining the Drama Club… I’m just not sure if it’d work with… me” Roman shook his head. “I’ll decide once they pick a musical.”

Virgil snorted, which caused Roman to let out an indignant ‘wha- hey!’.

“Y’know, I don’t know why I didn’t peg you for a theater nerd earlier, Ro’. It makes perfect sense.” was all Virgil said before Becca quieted them down and told them to start sharing their answers.

Once inside the therapy’s cafeteria, Patton was confronted by Charlie.

“Hey, Patton! I have a new exposure for you.” she greeted. “You ready?”

“Um, hold on-” Patton flipped through his binder, before landing on the page he wanted. He whipped out his pen, and continued. “Yep!”

“Alright, this one’s pretty simple but fits what we’re working on with you! All you need to do is ask a staff to borrow a pen and not return it by the end of the day.” Patton stared at her with wide eyes. His life seemed to be revolving around pens, recently, wasn’t it?

“Do I… do I get to return them next week? Cause, y’know… it’s Friday.” he asked, fiddling with his bracelets. Charlie shook her head.

“It’s better not to. Because, in the future, if you accidentally steal a pen from someone, we don’t want you to freak out much. So it’s better to fight that feeling by keeping them!” she smiled. “I know you’ll do great, Patton.”

Patton scribbled it down in his binder reluctantly. He really did want to refuse the exposure, but that would make Charlie disappointed in him, which would make her feel bad. And Patton hated making other people feel bad. So, discomfort it was.

Patton found himself in front of the two other counselors’, Harley and Ramona’s, office. Peeking through the window he saw that only Harley was present. He knocked on the door before walking in.

“Hey, Patton,” She greeted. “Whatcha need?”

Patton put on his default smile. Act happy, not stressed, he told himself.

“Heyo Harley! I was just wondering if I could borrow a pen?”

After 9 minutes, he had cycled through Becca, Katrine, Ramona, and Vicki. He figured it would be pretty stupid of himself to ask Charlie, so he had to start back at the beginning. Oh dear, what am I supposed to say?

He didn’t have much time to mull it over before Virgil skidded to a stop in front of him. He barely had time to greet him before Virgil was huffing out a response.

“Hey… Patton… sorry one second… gotta catch my breath…” he panted. Patton smiled at him.

“M’kay… This is stupid now that I think of it, but I’m just… Exposures really stress me out, and I have this one where I’m supposed to knock on a staff’s door and just… leave before they can open it.” Virgil started, curling into his hoodie.

“What’s the problem?” Patton prompted when Virgil stayed silent.

“It’s just… really anxiety provoking and- ugh y’know what, it really is stupid, I’ll leave-” Patton grabbed his arm before he could run off. Virgil stilled.

“Virgil! It’s not stupid, Sanders’ can take a lot to get used to. Roman was stressed on his first exposure day, too! Now, I know it’s not your first day, but it still counts! It’ll take a bit to get used to, but it helps in the end!” Patton smiled. “Wanna hug?”

“Erm, no thanks, physical contact scares me. But, ah, thank you. That… helped.” Virgil gave him a small, awkward smile. Patton cherished it. “I am a bit confused, though,” he continued. “It’s about Roman. He said something about my first day being his second proper day, and I was wondering how long he’s been here? Sorry if that was confusing.”

“Don’t worry, I know what you meant. Roman’s first day was Monday, and he started exposures on Tuesday, I think. And then on Wednesday, you came!” Virgil nodded at this, seeming satisfied.

“Now go on!” Patton prompted, gesturing to the staff hallway. “You’ll do great!”

Patton walked into his house, pulling out his phone almost immedietly. He had a plan.

Therapy pals!!

{ Patton } { Heyo!! I made a group chat for us all !!! }

{ Is everyone excited for the weekend?? I am!! }

| Virgil | | ah, weekends. my favorite days of the week to hate myself |

{ VIRGIL NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! }

| lmao |

( Logan ) ( My weekends are spent studying, I’m impartial to them. )

[ Roman ] [ Uhhh youre Logan right? Dont have you saved on my phone yet ]

( *you’re *Don’t )

[ Yup thats Logan ]

( I don’jehgfvurkghds )

| wait what |

[ Holy shit ]

{ Roman, language!!! }

{ And are you okay logan!?!?!? }

[ Santa mierda ]

| what? |

( I apologize, I was walking and a dog ran in front of me, causing me to trip. I am okay. And, Roman, is that Spanish? )

{ OH THANK GOD!!!! }

[ Yea it’s Spanish ]

{ Did you get a picture of the dog???????? }

( I was not aware you spoke another language, Roman. I suppose that makes sense, since you are so bad at English. And no, I did not get a picture of the dog, it ran off rather quickly after I tripped. )

[ HEY ]

{ Aw!! Well at least you’re okay!!! }

| i’m gonna put roman’s spanish thru google translate hold up |

[ Wait no ]

( Please use capital letters, Virgil. Plus, it’s spelled through. )

| ajsjfisdkf |

| patton |

{ Oh no!! Is something wrong??? }

| no just uh |

| pls put roman’s spanish thru google translate |

( I cannot believe you. )

{ Alright… }

( Do you exist just to insult the English language? )

[ oh nooo my phones about to die ahhh ]

| nice try roman |

{ ROMAN!!!! Don’t swear, even in other languages! >:( }

[ Hey Virgil, i gotta tell you something ]

[ i hate u ]

| who doesnt |

{ Hate is a strong word, Roman. }

[ i know ]

{ VIRGIL NO!!!!!! I LOVE YOU LIKE A SON!!!!!!!!!!!!! D: }

| did i just get adopted |

( It’s not adoption if it’s not in a legal document. )

{ YES YOU DID MY DARK STRANGE SON!!!!!!! ILY!!!! }

( Oh. )

[ Logan should be the mom ]

[ I’ll be the strange uncle who you only see once a year but might be a government spy ]

( What? )

| nah roman you’re like the kid next door |

[ Thanks..? ]

[ Wait did i just get kicked out of the family ]

( I’m afraid I don’t understand how I could be a mother, not even mentioning how Patton, Virgil, and I could even be a family. )

[ I cant believe i got kicked out of the family ]

{ Don’t worry, it’s a metaphorical family Logan!!! }

[ What did i do to deserve this ]

( But how am I a mother? )

( Is anyone going to respond? )

// Private Conversation between Roman and Virgil \\

[ I don’t hate you, by the way. ]

[ Like in all seriousness. ]

| lol don’t worry man i got that from the lack of good spelling and no capital letter |

| coz you don’t type like that usually |

[ Oh, good. I was hoping by doing that I wouldn’t come across as serious. ]

| yea |

| so uhhhhhhhh |

| hold on gotta think of somethin to say so this isn’t awkward |

| what musicals do you like? |

[ Congrats Virgil!! You just unlocked an hours long conversation ]

| wait no |

| eh nvm i wasnt doing anything tonight anyway |

[ Kay so im gonna start off with the popular ones ofc! ]

-- --

Patton smiled as he looked over the conversation they all had. Because no matter what happened at therapy, by the end he knew he’d still have his new friends. He giggled to himself, feeling giddy. This was so exciting!

He glanced at the groupchat’s name, which at the moment was simply ‘ Therapy pals!! ’, a spur of the moment decision by Patton. He bit his lip as he thought it over.

Patton changed the name of the group to FamILY! -

Patton smiled even wider than before. Tomorrow was bound to be a good day.

He was sure of it.

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