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jpbjazz · 6 months ago

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LÉGENDES DU JAZZ

JOHN CARTER, ‘’LE ALEX HALEY DU JAZZ��’

‘’I had never heard anybody with such control on the clarinet… His complete mastery of the instrument is astounding.”

- Red Callender

Né le 24 septembre 1929 à Fort Worth, au Texas, John Wallace Carter avait d’abord étudié le saxophone alto avant de commencer à jouer de la clarinette à l’âge de douze ans. Très influencé par la musique gospel qu’il avait écoutée à l’église baptiste durant son enfance et par la musique de Duke Ellington, Count Basie et Cab Calloway, Carter avait amorcé sa carrière en jouant du blues au Woodman’s Hall d’Anacostia, un club de jazz de Washington, D.C. Il avait aussi fait équipe avec Ornette Coleman, Dewey Redman et Charles Moffett dans les années 1940.

Après avoir fréquenté le I.M. Terrell High School, Carter avait décroché un baccalauréat en éducation musicale à l’Université Lincoln de Jefferson, au Missouri, en 1949, avant de compléter une maîtrise en éducation musicale à l’Université du Colorado en 1956.

De 1949 à 1961, Carter avait gagné sa vie en enseignant la musique dans le réseau d’écoles publiques de Fort Worth. Parallèlement à sa carrière de professeur, Carter avait continué d’expérimenter avec la clarinette et avait découvert que c’était cet instrument qui lui permettait d’exprimer le mieux sa personnalité musicale. Parmi les premières influences de Carter, on remarquait Charlie Parker, Dizzy Gillespie, Lester Young, Duke Ellington et Count Basie.

Après s’être installé à Los Angeles, Carter avait enseigné durant vingt et un ans (1961-1982) dans les écoles élémentaires publiques de la ville.

DÉBUTS DE CARRIÈRE

En 1964, Carter avait formé le New Art Jazz Ensemble avec le trompettiste Bobby Bradford, le contrebassiste Tom Williamson et le batteur Bruz Freeman, un pionnier du free jazz qui avait d’abord joué avec Charlie Parker, Lester Young, Coleman Hawkins et Sarah Vaughan. Le groupe avait poursuivi ses activités jusqu’à la mort de Carter en 1991 et se produisait surtout dans le Nord-est des États-Unis.

Décrivant sa première rencontre avec Bradford, qui était de six ans son cadet, Carter avait expliqué: ‘’I met him when I got out therem about ‘65, Bob was living in Pomona and teaching out there, and I was teaching out there (L.A.). I was very frustrated with whar I was doing. I had come here un 1961 and had aspirations for playing my music and I thought I could get as much studio work as I wanted to do when I got out here {...}. I play good lead alto, tenor, soprano, good flute and clarinet of course. I can play oboe and basson, all well enough to do session work.’’ Dans la même entrevue, Carter avait ajouté: ‘’Bob had been with Ornette up to ‘62, then went back to Texas and taught for a couple of years and then moved out there. Well so Bobby really wasn’t doing anything either, on any kinf of regular basis so we got together, it was very natural for us to try to get a group together.’’

Parallèlement à sa collaboration avec Bradford, Carter avait joué du jazz progressif avec des artistes locaux, se produisant à la flûte et au saxophone tout en approfondissant sa maîtrise de la clarinette, contribuant ainsi à briser les frontières musicales tout en était toujours accompagné par Bradford à la trompette. Au cours de cette période, Carter avait aussi joué avec le pianiste Hampton Hawes et le saxophoniste Harold Land.

Carter avait également opéré son propre club de jazz, le Rudolph’s, afin de contribuer au développement de la relève. En 1967, Carter avait dirigé une oeuvre d’Ornette Coleman à UCLA. Carter expliquait: ‘’It was a suite that Ornette had just done for the Guggenheim Grant that he had just got, whatever year that was. A very difficult pass. The band was in the festival house orchestra, whoever was playing brought along their charts and we played them. Carmen McRae was on that and Clark Terry. Ornette’s piece was written for big band against his quintet. {...} Full group, five trumpets, four trombones, five reed and a full rhythm section, and violins and cellos. He played that music a lot of times, he played it with the San Francisco Symphony, he played it in Europe and back in New York.’’

Dans les années 1970, Carter avait fait partie du Little Big Horn Workshop avec Bradford et Newton. Au cours de cette période, Carter s’était également fait connaître pour ses concerts en solo. Dans le cadre du New Jazz Festival de Moers en 1979, Carter s’était produit en duo avec le clarinettiste allemand Theo Jörgensmann durant trois jours. Le concert, qui avait fait connaître Carter à travers le monde, avait donné lieu à une nouvelle performance du duo en 1994.

Vers 1973, Carter et Bradford avaient fait une tournée en Europe et avaient enregistré avec le pianiste Horace Tapscott. Lors d’un séjour à Paris, Carter avait même joué du bebop avec Jaki Byard et Kenny Clarke.

Carter et Bradford s’étaient également produits en concert à UCLA en compagnie de l’Art Ensemble of Chicago, avec qui ils avaient enregistré l’album Tandem 1 en 1979. Après s’être joint au quintet d’instruments à vent de James Newton, Carter avait fondé en 1981 le groupe Clarinet Summit avec Alvin Batiste, Jimmy Hamilton et David Murray.

DERNIÈRES ANNÈES

Même s’il maîtrisait plusieurs instruments, Carter avait surtout joué de la clarinette et du saxophone soprano à partir de la fin des années 1970. Il expliquait: ‘’I think that certain personalities goes with certain instruments. While I have known that all along it took me a long time to associate that myself - because it takes a long time to try and see yourself, and I’m still trying. Like I know what that I am not a tenor player, but I’ve spent a lot of time fooling with the tenor saxophone. I played tenor and college because that was the only way I could get into the dance band. In those days I couldn’t read as well as other fellows could but I could solo better that they could so they need me in the band for that (rires). So I got in on tenor.’’

Lorsque sa fille et ses trois fils avaient atteint l’âge adulte au début des années 1980, Carter avait commencé à enseigner la clarinette à plein temps au Wind College de Los Angeles, une école qu’il avait lui-même fondée. Carter, qui possédait sa propre maison de disques, avait également enregistré avec Bradford et Newton l’album Night Fire, qui comprenait des classiques comme “Morning Bell”, “Juba Stomp” et “Buckin.”’ Sur l’album Dance of the Love Ghosts, Carter avait combiné les cuivres, les synthétiseurs et des percussions traditionnelles comme le kete et le dawuro. En plus de la chanson titre, l’album incluait les pièces The Captain’s Dilemma” et “Moon Waltz”, toutes des compositions originales.

De 1982 à 1990, Carter avait résumé sa vision du jazz et de l’histoire des Afro-Américains dans la suite en cinq parties Roots and Folklore: Episodes in the Development of American Folk Music. Publié dans un coffret de cinq CD, l’oeuvre, qui combinait le jazz moderne avec le blues et le jazz traditionnel, avait été saluée par la critique comme une des meilleures réalisations des années 1990. En 1998, le clarinettiste François Houle avait repris des extraits de l’oeuvre sur son album intitulé In the Vernacular—Music of John Carter.

Peu avant la mort de Carter en 1991, le New Arts Jazz Ensemble avait enregistré un dernier album. Intitulé ‘’Seeking’’, l’album comprenait cinq compositions originales de Carter, dont “Karen on Monday” et “Sticks and Stones”.

John Carter est mort au Daniel Freeman Memorial Hospital d’Inglewood en Californie, le 31 mars 1991 à la suite de complications liés à son cancer des poumons. Carter laissait dans le deuil son épouse Gloria, sa fille Karen et ses fils John Jr., Stanley et Kris. Atteint d’une tumeur non maline, Carter s’était fait retirer un de ses poumons un an avant sa mort, mais il avait continué de se produire sur scène. Carter avait présenté une de ses dernières performances en février dans le cadre d’un événement organisé par la Society for Jazz and World Music à Santa Barbara, en Californie.

Continuant d’explorer l’histoire du peuple afro-américain, Carter avait présenté en septembre 1990 sa composition “Castles of Ghana”, une suite inspirée de la traite des esclaves en Afrique de l’Ouest au 16 siècle, au Japan America Theatre de Los Angeles. Dans le cadre d’une entrevue accordée au New York Times en 1990, Carter avait déclaré qu’il avait conçu le projet après que son fils John Jr., qui revenait d’un voyage en Afrique de l’ouest, lui ait expliqué que les châteaux du Ghana étaient utilisés comme lieu de détention pour les futurs esclaves avait d’être expédiés en Amérique.

Au moment de sa mort, Carter devait se produire avec un quartet comprenant Perry Robinson, Theo Jörgensmann et Eckard Koltermann.

Carter a été admis au Down Beat Hall of Fame l’année-même de sa mort en 1991. Au cours de sa carrière, Carter avait remporté deux autres prix décernés par le magazine: le premier pour un enregistrement avec un petit groupe en 1973, et le second comme clarinettiste méritant la meilleure reconnaissance en 1982.

En 1996, Carter avait obtenu quatre étoiles du magazine Q et cinq étoiles du NAPRA Trade Journal pour ses compositions “Sippi Strut”, “Spats”, “Hymn to Freedom” et “And I Saw Them” tirées de son album Shadows on a Wall. Commentant le dernier album de Carter, le critique David Grogan avait décrit le musicien comme un compositeur d’avant-garde passionné par l’histoire du peuple afro-américain et l’avait surnommé le ‘’Alex Haley of the Jazz world.”

Carter avait souvent été comparé au trompettiste Wynton Marsalis pour la beauté et la spontanéité de son jeu. Le tubiste et contrebassiste Red Callender qui avait accompagné Carter, Bradford et Newton sur l’album Dauwhe, avait souligné la maîtrise par Carter de son intrument dans l’ouvrage Rough Guides to Jazz, dans lequel il écrivait: “I had never heard anybody with such control on the clarinet…. His complete mastery of the instrument is astounding.”

Les compositions de Carter pour clarinette, trompette, cornet, violon, trombone, batterie et contrebasse portaient souvent des titres évocateurs comme “Evening Prayer”, “Conversations”, “The Fallen Prince” et “Theme of Desperation.”

Plusieurs musiciens ont rendu hommage à Carter après sa mort, dont le clarinettiste François Houle qui avait enregistré des versions lyriques de ses compositions “Sticks and Stones” and “Karen on Monday” sur son album Vernacular—Music of John Carter publié en 1998.

Un des premiers clarinettistes de l’histoire à avoir exprimé une vision humaniste de l’héritage africain dans le jazz, Carter avait toujours improvisé avec énormément d’émotion. Les recherches tonales de Carter l’avaient incité à étudier le passé esclavagiste des Afro-Américains et à mettre en lumière leur combat pour l’émancipation après la Guerre civile. Artiste passionné, très articulé intellectuellement et très concentré sur sa musique, Carter avait influencé toute une nouvelle génération de musiciens, dont Julius Hemphill, Peter Epstein, James Newton, David Murray et Bobby Bradford.

#jazz

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mamadoc · 8 months ago

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1, 2, 3, 34, 37, 40, 48, 49

1. What fic of yours would you recommend to someone who had never read any of your work? (In other words, what do you think is the best introduction to your fics?)

My two long multi-chapters have taken most of my writing time (and I love them), but I actually really love the first series I ever wrote, *Sense* You Know Me So Well. The second chapter of this series and the second chapter of its sequel are the two that I am most proud of. They just feel very authentic and have deep feelings.

2. Go to your AO3 “Works” page, to the sidebar with all the filters, and click the drop-down arrow for “Additional Tags.” What are your top 3-5 most used tags? Do you think they accurately represent your writing habits?

I'm not great at tagging apparently or my stories are all quite different. My only tag that I've used more than once was 'Alternate Universe,' which makes since given that 3 of my 6 are AUs.

3. What are some tropes or details that you think are very characteristic of your fics?

I really enjoy awkwardness. Perhaps that speaks to my own romantic history (haha), but I feel like I write awkward romantic scenes well. I love reading sexual tension; that's easily my favorite. But I guess I'll have to work on my skills in writing it.

34. What aspects of your writing are inspired by/taken from your real life?

Hmmm... Not much. I'm a doctor with 4 young kids who's been married for 18 years. Reeeeally doesn't match much of what I write. But I do have a couple ideas for short stories that would use a little bit more of my medical expertise.

37. Promote one of your own “deep cut” fics (an underrated one, or one that never got as much traction as you think it deserves!). What do you like about it?

I really love the story in chapter 2 of my *Sense* You Know Me So Well, Too series. Tim and Lucy are in the middle of the pining/not talking stage when Tim's dad dies. He doesn't deal with it well, and Lucy is the only one that can get through to him.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/50613028

40. Do you tend to reread fics or are you a one-and-done kind of person?

I reread my favorites for sure. Plus One by murphallo, Little Green by MeadowWard, Darling Let's Run by mooncpd, Unless It Is by adina_rachelle (@makeitastrength) are all favorites I've read at least two times each. But there are so many good stories out there (I think I have 60 tabs open of stories I want to read on my phone) that I don't reread often.

48. What’s the last fic you read? Do you recommend it?

The Loophole by The Chandom. Amazing story. I highly recommend it.

49. What are you currently working on? Share a few lines if you’re up for it!

I'm working on chapter 17 of my Catch of a Lifetime story. Theoretically I was going to have it ready to post this weekend, but.... life.

When Lucy left the locker room on Sunday morning, Captain Andersen called her into her office.

“Good morning, Captain. How can I help you?”

“First, I was happy to see you on the tabloid sites this morning,” she said with a smile.

Lucy furrowed her brow and opened her mouth to speak, but Captain Andersen put up her hand to indicate that she wasn’t done speaking yet.

“Not that I think that’s good journalism or that your privacy should be invaded like that,” she clarified. “But I’m a bit of a romantic at heart, and I had a good feeling about you and Bradford from the moment I saw you two together. Even with the fuzzy photos that were taken, it’s obvious that you were happy to be with him last night.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Lucy said, her cheeks suddenly a fiery red, unsure if it was the right time to discuss personal matters like this. “I am happy, ma’am. Thank you,” she said with a small smile. She thought for a moment and then asked, “You look at the tabloids ma’am?”

Captain Andersen laughed. “Not usually. But the LAPD’s tech force keeps tabs on all the sources of news that they can. Usually they’re looking for criminal activity, but the posts about you and Mr. Bradford were a nice bonus. I got an email this morning with all the links.”

“Oh. That makes more sense,” Lucy said nodding her head.

“Well,” she started. She shuffled some papers around on her desk and then looked up at Lucy. “That’s not exactly why I called you in. I have an assignment for you today, if you’re up for it. It’s not exactly undercover work, and it’s not exactly an internal affairs investigation, but it’s a little bit of both.”

Lucy was intrigued. She tried to quickly put the other conversation behind her and smiled at the captain. “Nice hook. I’m totally in. What’s going on?” She leaned her arms on her duty belt and focused on the captain.

“Close the door and take a seat,” she said, waving toward the door and walking around to the front of her desk.

Thanks for asking! I love your stories.

#chenford #fanfic #tim bradford #lucy chen #tim bradford x lucy chen #chenford fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #the rookie

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news24fr · 2 years ago

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Il n'y a eu que peu de soleil à Coventry. C'était autrement fouetté par la pluie et venteux. Ryan Reynolds et Rob McElhenney, les propriétaires de Wrexham, étaient restés à l'écart, attendant vraisemblablement un club de Premier League au tour suivant.En leur absence, leur équipe a prévalu dans un match nul chaotique et dramatique de la Coupe. Une victoire célèbre apportera sans aucun doute un contenu en streaming de haute qualité en montrant la meilleure essence de victoire ou de défaite de l'ancienne compétition. Un club hors championnat, même s'il est financé par Disney, sera au quatrième tour cette année. Maintenant, est-ce que ça compte comme un meurtre de géant ?Liverpool v Wolves: troisième tour de la FA Cup – en directLire la suiteLa Coventry Building Society Arena, qui appartenait aujourd'hui à Mike Ashley et à la maison de Wasps jusqu'à la disparition du club de rugby, était loin d'être pleine. Si ce match était diffusé à l'heure du brunch pour un public aux États-Unis, c'était à cause du duo de stars qui possède Wrexham. En avant-première du match, Ollie Palmer de Wrexham avait déclaré: "Coventry n'attire pas trop les gars pour être honnête."Telles sont les qualités réfractaires de la célébrité ; un joueur de la Ligue nationale qui se moque de l'opposition à moins de quatre points d'une position en séries éliminatoires du championnat, même s'il est vrai de dire que Wrexham a des bases financières plus solides que Coventry et la promotion à l'EFL comme cible principale.Il a également ignoré le pedigree de la FA Cup du club adverse et du manager. Les vainqueurs de 1987 sont dirigés par Mark Robins, dont le but révolutionnaire de Manchester United au troisième tour contre Nottingham Forest a été marqué il y a 33 ans jour pour jour.Guide rapideComment puis-je m'inscrire aux alertes d'actualités sportives ?SpectacleTéléchargez l'application Guardian depuis l'iOS App Store sur iPhone ou la boutique Google Play sur Android en recherchant « The Guardian ».Si vous avez déjà l'application Guardian, assurez-vous que vous utilisez la version la plus récente.Dans l'application Guardian, appuyez sur le bouton Menu en bas à droite, puis allez dans Paramètres (l'icône d'engrenage), puis Notifications.Activez les notifications sportives.Est-ce que cela a été utile?Merci pour votre avis.Non pas que Wrexham manque de magie de la Coupe. Leur manager, Phil Parkinson, a été l'architecte de la victoire 4-2 de Bradford City sur le Chelsea de José Mourinho en 2015, tandis que la fusée de Mickey Thomas en 1992 contre Arsenal est fermement ancrée dans le panthéon de la compétition. Pendant ce temps, leurs fans, environ 5 000 ayant voyagé du nord du Pays de Galles et faisant du racket, ont clairement vu cela comme une grande occasion.Le prix du désintérêt de Palmer était d'être mis au banc pour Sam Dalby, un attaquant sans but depuis début novembre remplaçant le partenaire régulier de 22 buts de Paul Mullin. Robins avait laissé de côté le meilleur buteur Viktor Gyökeres et le milieu de terrain vedette Gustavo Hamer pour rappeler que Coventry lui-même avait des objectifs plus ambitieux.Wrexham a commencé brillamment et après que Michael Rose ait raté une grande occasion du centre de Fankaty Dabo pour Coventry, les visiteurs ont rapidement pris les devants. Luke Young, le capitaine, a croisé Dalby, qui a récompensé la sélection de Parkinson d'une belle tête, bondissant entre deux défenseurs.La tête de Sam Dalby donne à Wrexham une avance rapide. Photographie : Catherine Ivill/Getty ImagesKasey Palmer déclenchant un coup franc sur le poteau a suggéré la menace latente de Coventry, mais Elliott Lee a ensuite dérivé dans un centre qui a battu tout le monde, y compris le gardien Simon Moore, pris du mauvais pied.Wrexham – et les propriétaires – pourraient commencer à rêver de visiter un club de Premier League au tour suivant, mais Robins a pu faire venir Gyökeres lorsque Fábio Tavares est tombé en panne. En quelques secondes, le film de Martyn Waghorn avait mis en place Ben Sheaf pour ramener Coventry dans le match nul.

Waghorn aurait pu égaliser, seulement pour que Mark Howard fasse un arrêt bas alors que Coventry accumulait une pression sérieuse.Inscrivez-vous pour Football QuotidienNewsletter quotidienne gratuiteCommencez vos soirées avec le regard du Guardian sur le monde du football

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starsfic · 3 years ago

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Prompt Violet, despite knowing Lena will hate it, calls Poe's sister Magica on his cell phone for help. Magica is at first dismissive of anything Poe related and wants nothing to do with him, but the second Violet says Poe was kidnap, she's on board.

Honker was working on tracing Brad's texts from Louie's phone.

While he worked, everyone was preparing to launch an attack. That included Lena. Thankfully, she didn't notice Lena slip away, Poe's phone clenched in her hand.

Now alone in the closet, Violet took a deep breath. Lena would hate her idea. But they needed backup, especially if they were going to save Poe.

She typed in the number.

It rang.

And rang.

"WHOEVER WAS FOOLISH ENOUGH-"

"It's Violet."

There was silence. "Wow?" Magica finally said. "I'm sorry, do I know you? You sound familiar."

"I'm Lena's sister." There was silence. "The girl who attacked her during your training of her." There was a bark of laughter. She took it as a hint that she remembered now. "We need your help."

Magica burst into laughter. Violet allowed her to laugh until she took a breath. "Poe's been kidnapped."

The laughter stopped.

"I will be right over there."

#my writing #fic #not taking duck prompts right now #Young Bradford AU #au #Ducktales #Violet Sabrewing #Magica de Spell

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running2redemption · 3 years ago

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8 - How do they like to unwind after a long day?

14 - Do they have read receipts on?

"Oh, if I'm not working on something for S.H.U.S.H. I'm working on my book."

Uncle BB AU, O.W.L. AU

"I have no idea what that is... I'm guessing some kind of cellular phone thing?"

#Bradford answers #Uncle BB AU #O.W.L. AU #(listen young Bradford does not know how to relax #and older Bradford might be more tech-saavy than Scrooge but that's not saying much)

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heart-waves · 4 years ago

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AU where bradford raises flora from an egg and we are blessed with the sight of him carrying her around in one of these bad boys

#bradford with a baby carrier what will he do #this was a joke but now i lowkey wanna draw young bradford with a baby flora-#sam.txt #📂🪶#🦩🌸#hatchling au

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rmtndew · 3 years ago

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Chapter 11

Summary: The Great Depression took its toll on a lot of people and some had to get creative to survive. Seraphina’s father decides his solution is to sell his only daughter to a much older man. But when Sy overhears a conversation about the young woman, he makes a decision that will change his life - and Seraphina’s - forever.

(An arranged marriage AU with Captain Syverson)

Pairing: Sy and OFC Seraphina

Word count: 3,700+

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16

Tag List Round 1 - @hollydaisy23, @onlyhenrys, @omgkatinka, @lawfulgranola, @gearhead66, @thethirstyarchive, @oddsnendsfanfics, @littlerinoa, @agniavateira, @aaescritora, @justaboringadult, @beenthroughalot, @seriouslygoodlookinggents, @xxxkatxo, @musicartmayheminmyheart, @lilliannaansalla, @dashingcavill, @mariestark, @summersong69, @sugarpenchant, @ruthoakenshield, @rn7rocks, @feralrunaway, @mzchievous-blog, @kmuir1, @the-space-between-heartbeats, @thereisa8ella, @daddys-littlewhitegirl, @jaded808, @secretlywriting, @princesssterek, @witcherfan, @the-problem-of-leisure, @inlovewithhisblueeyes, @amberangel112, @eldarwen333, @mary-ann84, @legendarywizarddetective, @vikingsbifrost, @sanjaaaaaaa, @mrsshiddleston, @batgurl1989, @absolutepie, @wonderlandfandomkingdom, @elena-myth, @mis-lil-red, @stxlemate, @tuckersgirl, @excalibur22, @diegos-butt (IF YOU’RE CROSSED OUT, IT WON’T LET ME TAG YOU!)

Let me know if you’d like to be added/removed from the tag list!

By November, things at the farm had slowed down quite a bit. Sy still had work to do but with winter on its way, it wasn’t as much. So when he came in mid-day and wrapped his arms around me while I was folding laundry, I didn’t have to worry that I was keeping him from his chores as I turned and pulled him down for a kiss. He laughed at first and I knew it was because he thought it was funny when little bitty me tried wrangling a big old bull like him, but his laughing didn’t last long. He pulled me closer to him, humming against my mouth. My belly was getting bigger and put a little distance between us, but he didn’t let that stop him none. He just stooped on down and held me to him. When he ended it, he kissed all over my face with soft little kisses.

“We got a letter in the mail,” he said, kissing below my ear. “Dr. Bradford wants us to come to town and see him next week. He wants to check on you and Little Bit.”

“That’s awfully nice of him. We should write him back and tell him we’ll come in.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he agreed, then took a step back to look at me. “You getting hungry?”

“Well, I wasn’t until you mentioned it, but now I am,” I said. “I’ll make us lunch.”

He shook his head. “No. I’ll do it. You just keep standing right there, looking pretty as a picture, and I’ll fix us something.” He smiled then looked down at my stomach. “Does Little Bit have any requests?”

I put my hand on my belly. “A peanut butter and pickle sandwich.”

His smile widened. “Alright. That’s what I’ll make.”

I finished up folding the laundry as Sy went to the kitchen to make us lunch. He was still making it when I wandered over to him. I wrapped my arms around him as best I could from behind and rested my head against his back. He was warm and I could hear him breathing. The feeling of it made me melt against him as I closed my eyes.

“You getting tired, Momma?” he asked, his fingers lightly dancing across my arm.

“A little,” I admitted. I hadn’t been sleeping too good the last few nights and it felt like it was all catching up to me right then.

“Why don’t we eat and then you can take a nap?”

“I hate leaving you to do all the work by yourself.”

“Don’t. There ain’t much more I can do outside today.”

That was all the convincing I needed.

After lunch, I helped Sy do the washing up but he noticed I kept stretching my back and rubbing at it. It was aching like it used to when Daddy would make me haul the flour and cornmeal in the house after he’d go to the shop to get it. Like I’d been moving around something big and heavy, even though I knew I hadn’t.

Sy dried off his hands and then took the cup out of mine, putting it down next to the sink. “C’mon, honey bee. Let me make you feel better,” he said. Then he picked me right on up from the floor.

I wrapped my legs and arms around him to hold on. It wasn’t the first time he’d carried me off like that but it never failed to get me going thinking about how strong he was that even with me getting bigger and bigger, he could pick me up like I’s nothing. He walked over to our sofa and sat down with me on his lap. He kissed the side of my head and I buried my face in his neck as his big paws started rubbing my back. Not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to feel like he was getting his fingers down into whatever was hurting and loosening it up. He went between rubbing it and being gentle like with his fingers, grazing them over my back through my dress, tickling me just a smidge. Not enough for me to start wriggling around and trying to get away from him, but enough for me to get goosebumps on my skin, even though I was burrowed right against his warm body. It weren’t long before the pain eased up.

“That feels so good, Sy,” I mumbled.

“Yeah? You feeling better?” he asked.

I nodded against him. “Uh huh. Lot better.”

“Good.” He kissed my ear and my temple as he kept rubbing my back but before I knew what was going on, he was standing up again. I lifted my head to look around and he brought one of his hands up and caressed my cheek. “It’s alright. I’m just gonna take you to bed so you can sleep.” And he did just that. He pulled the covers back before placing me down on the bed and then covered me up. He bent and kissed my head again. “Get you some rest, alright? I want to hear your snores from plumb outside.”

I smiled, my eyes growing too heavy to look at him. “I don’t snore.”

“Whatever you say, honey bee.”

I felt better after my nap and that evening I was able to stay awake long enough to be properly coupled with Sy. He was in a right mood, too. Once I got ready for bed and he saw me in my nightgown, saw how tight it was starting to fit around my chest and stomach, it was like he turned into some wild beast. We was in bed for pert near two hours and no sign of him slowing down. Normally I wouldn’t’ve minded but I was worn out. Two hours took its toll on me. So I tapped his head and told him I didn’t have much left. He moved behind me and held me to him tight, his hands smoothing over everything Little Bit made swell up, and when we was both taken care of, we were so tired we fell asleep just as we were.

After those two hours, I should’ve slept like a log. But somehow I still woke up in the middle of the night. I was exhausted. I didn’t understand why I couldn’t hardly rest no more. I looked at Sy and saw him sleeping peacefully. He’d rolled away from me at some point and was sprawled out on his back. I was cold and decided to get up and put my nightgown on but as I did, Sy’s hand reached out for me.

“Seraphina?” he rasped sleepily.

“I’m just putting on my gown,” I told him.

It was on the floor and I slipped it on quick but when I got back in bed, he was awake. His eyes blinked at me in the dark and without a word, he lifted the blankets and patted his chest, inviting me to lay down on him. I did, wrapping my arm around his thick waist and my leg around one of his big tree trunk thighs.

“What’re you doing awake?” he asked, putting his arms around me.

“I don’t know. Just can’t sleep,” I said, rubbing my cheek against the soft fur on his chest. “I don’t like it none.”

“I know, baby. I’m sorry.” He rubbed his hands on my back and arm, soothing me. “What’s something you do like?”

I thought for a minute then glanced up at him. He was looking at me, waiting. “I like you singing.”

He smiled. “You want me to sing to you?” he asked. I nodded. “What do you want me to sing?”

I shrugged. “I don’t care. I just like listening to you.”

He was quiet for just a bit, his hands still moving. Finally he took a breath and started singing real low. I could feel it in his chest.

“Stars shining bright above you, night breezes seem to whisper ‘I love you’, birds singing in the sycamore tree. Dream a little dream of me. Say nighty-night and kiss me. Just hold me tight and tell me you’ll miss me. While I’m alone and blue as can be, dream a little dream of me. Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you, sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you. But in your dreams, whatever they be, dream a little dream of me. Dream a little dream of me.”

“I love your voice so much, Sy. I can’t wait until you’re holding Little Bit and singing them to sleep.”

His arms tightened around me. “You gonna make this old man cry if you start with that,” he joked.

I smiled and turned my head to kiss his chest. “Alright. I won’t start,” I said. “Sing me another one, please?”

He sang another song for me, then another’n but soon I fell fast asleep. I didn’t wake up no more that night but I knew if I did, Sy would just sing me right back.

The next day we sent off a letter to Dr. Bradford telling him we’d be happy to come in and have him check on everything. I hoped he might be able to help me with my sleeping troubles, even though I suspected like everything else it was caused by Little Bit. But maybe he knew some way to deal with it better than I was. It took a few days before we finally heard back. He sent a letter asking us to come in on Tuesday if we could.

Tuesday morning I was getting ready when Sy came and leaned on the doorframe to our bedroom. He’d been out checking on the animals and feeding them and making sure they’d be alright while we was gone.

“What is it?” I asked, taking my slip from the chest of drawers.

He smiled. “Just thinking about how beautiful you are.”

My face flushed and my ears went hot. “I’m in my underthings,” I said quietly, then tugged on my slip.

“You’re beautiful in whatever you wear.” He bit his lip. “Or don’t wear.”

“You’re something else, Sy,” I said, but couldn’t help from smiling. “Why don’t you do something and pick out a dress for me?”

He pushed off the doorframe right quick and went to our little closet. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, pulling open the door. It was like he’d been waiting for me to ask him to do that for the longest time. He took my green dress and brought it over. “Raise those arms for me, honey bee.” I did and let him put the dress on me. Then he moved around to my back. My hair had gotten tucked into the dress and he was careful to get it out, then he brushed it over my shoulder before he fastened the few little buttons on the neck. He kissed the side of my head. “I got the prettiest wife in the whole world.”

“You’re crazy.”

He kissed my cheek. “Crazy about you.”

I leaned back against him. “Still crazy, though.”

He slid his hands around to my belly and rubbed it. “I’m going to be crazy about Little Bit, too.”

“Well, at least that’s something we can both agree on.”

“You say that like I’m not an agreeable man,” he teased.

“No, you are most of the time.” I looked up at him over my shoulder. “But sometimes you can get a bit ornery.”

He grinned. “Just a bit?”

I shrugged, grinning back. “Maybe a little more than that.”

“That’s that big bull coming out in me, I reckon.”

“I reckon so,” I agreed.

We finished getting ready and went out to the truck. It was cold outside but I didn’t mind. I liked the colder weather. I hadn’t when I was living with Daddy. My room would be so cold I’d see my breath in the mornings and my socks all had holes in them. No matter how many times I darned them, they’d crop back up somewhere new. And my coat grew too small as it stretched to carry me through six winters. But Sy made sure I had proper clothes. Good, thick socks and a nice warm coat that fit me right, even as Little Bit was growing away like a weed. But my favorite part? Sy was so warm that I could just snuggle right on up with him and he’d keep me nice and cozy. That’s exactly what I did as we drove to Dr. Bradford’s office in town.

Dr. Bradford was surprised to see how big I’d gotten. I hadn’t seen him since the day of the barn raising party and back then, you couldn’t tell Little Bit was there just by looking at me. But they’d made themselves known since then, rounding out my stomach enough to tell.

“You have to be the healthiest looking expectant mother I’ve seen in a long while,” Dr. Bradford said. “Most women I’ve seen carrying children lately are skinnier than bean poles. Especially if the husband is out of work. With food already scarce, it’s hard enough feeding just a man and wife, but add in trying to feed other little ones?” He shook his head. “It’s a struggle.” He patted Sy on the back. “Whatever you’re doing to take care of your wife, you’re doing a good job. Keep it up.”

“I’m thankful we’ve got the farm. Even if we ain’t growing crops like we did before all this mess started, I know we’re sitting better than most other people,” Sy said. “We’re awfully blessed.”

“You are,” Dr. Bradford agreed. “And that’s not something I get to hear too often.”

“I imagine you see the worst of it,” Sy said.

“Not so much here in town. A lot of people who can still afford to live here are doing alright. It’s the ones who live a little further out in the country that I’m worried about. I’ve taken to setting up at some of the school houses when I can and doing my best to get them to come but a lot of them won’t accept a handout. I try to encourage those folks to pay however they can and because of that Ruth and I are pretty set with eggs for the rest of the year,” he said with a laugh. “But there are still some right stubborn ones and I can’t force anybody to let me help them. As much as I might want to.”

“Don’t take it too personal. The doctor we had a while back didn’t exactly build anyone’s confidence in your profession. He was a mite too big for his own breeches and gave a lot of people the runaround. When my Pa took ill, we drove him two hours away to see another doctor in a whole other town,” Sy said. “Some of us country folk are stubborn, we can’t help it, but most of us just don’t trust doctors. Give it some time.”

“Well, that makes me feel a little bit better knowing that it’s not me exactly, but I hate that y’all didn’t get the proper care you needed under your last doctor. I’m going to do my best to set that right.”

I liked Dr. Bradford. He was kind and didn’t make me feel ignorant for not knowing a lot of motherly stuff. Without Momma there to explain everything to me, I felt like I was learning as I went. He asked me some questions and reckoned by my answers that I’s about four months along and that I was gaining weight just like I ought to. He couldn’t offer me too much advice on how to get better sleep except drinking some warm milk but I figured it was just part of it. Everything looked good and he asked Sy to bring me back again in a few months to check on me.

As we were getting back in the truck, Sy stopped for a second. “Let’s go get us a candy bar down at the store before we head back. We’ll eat it on the way home. What d’you say, Momma?”

I smiled at him. “I say it sounds like you’re trying to fatten me up even more, Papa.”

“I can’t help it if I like how big you’re getting and I ain’t apologizing for it, either,” he said, smirking at me. “And now I got Dr. Bradfords seal of approval to get you fatter than a hog set for auction.”

“There you go again calling me some silly animal,” I said pouting. “I don’t want to be no hog.”

“Oh, come on, I’m just teasing you, honey bee.” He opened the truck door for me. “What kind of animal do you want to be called?”

“I don’t know. Something pretty,” I said, sliding in across the truck seat. “Like a deer, or a cute bunny, or some sweet little bird. But not no stinking hog.”

“Well, I didn’t say you were a stinking one,” he said, sitting down next to me. “I happen to think you smell nice.” He looked at me and smiled. “At least I didn’t call you a skunk.”

“You ever call me that, I’ll probably cry.”

He laughed. “I promise I won’t ever do that then. I don’t want to make you cry,” he said. “Now give me a kiss.” I pouted for a few seconds more then leaned up to kiss him. He gave me three quick pecks on my lips, then kissed my forehead. “Let me make it up to you and get something sweet for my sweetheart, how’s that?”

I nodded. “Alright.”

We drove down to the general store and picked us out a couple of candy bars. We ate them on the way back to the farm but when I finished mine, I looked over at Sy and saw he’d only eaten half of his. That wasn’t like him.

“Why don’t you finish this off for me?” he asked, handing it over to me. I realized then why he hadn’t eaten it all.

“Why do you spoil me so much?” I asked, taking it from him.

He grinned right big. “Because I can.”

I shook my head at him but smiled. “You’re gonna regret it one of these days. I’ll be so spoilt rotten I’ll just come right along and snatch whatever I want out of your hands ‘cause I’m so used to getting it.”

He laughed. “You ain’t got it in you, honey bee.”

I put my head on his shoulder. “You don’t know that.”

“I do. For one, you’re too sweet for it,” he said. “And for another, you ain’t tall enough to snatch anything out of my hands.”

I laughed. “I’ll get up on my wash bucket.”

“You still won’t be tall enough.”

“You’re being mean now,” I said. I snapped a piece of the candy bar off and held it up to his mouth. He eyed me for a second then opened up and ate it. A bit of chocolate got on his lip and I wiped it off with my thumb, then licked it clean. “I’ll get me a big step stool.”

“You ain’t getting on no step stool while you’re carrying Little Bit,” he said. “You know good and well all you gotta do is tell me what you want and I’ll hand it right over. Ain’t no snatching needed.”

I took a bite of his candy bar, then broke off another piece to feed him. “Well, you’re the one spoiling me so whatever I end up doing, it’s all on you, Sy,” I said, talking around the chocolate.

“I’ll take full responsibility,” he said as I brought my hand up to his mouth. But when he opened up, he took hold of my wrist, holding it still as he took the piece of chocolate and my fingers in his mouth at the same time. He nibbled on my fingers, making me squeal. He laughed and let go of my hand, then smirked at me. “Sorry. You’re just sweeter than that candy bar and I wanted me a little bite.”

I smacked his arm lightly. “You’re something else, Hoyt Syverson.”

He pinched at my thigh, making me squirm away from him and laugh again. “You still love me?”

I sighed. “I reckon.” I looked at him and saw him grinning as he stared out at the road in front of us. “You still love me?”

“Yeah, I reckon I do, too.” He reached over and put his hand on my belly. “Are you listening to me and your Momma teasing each other, Little Bit? That’s all it is. I love her more than anything in this world except for you. Ain’t no ‘reckon’ about it.”

I felt something odd in my stomach. A flutter. Sy slammed on the truck brakes and looked at me, his eyes wider than saucers. He felt it, too.

Little Bit was moving.

“Keep talking,” I told him.

“What do I say?” he whispered.

“Just talk to them like you usually do.”

He twisted in his seat so he was closer to my belly. “Hey, Little Bit. Can you hear your Papa talking to you?” he asked, rubbing my stomach. “Your Momma and me are just having fun. You’re going to find that out when you get here. I was a grouchy old man living by myself until I married her. She’s the best friend I ever had and she’s going to be the best Momma there ever was, too. And I know you already love her. There ain’t no way you can be growing inside her and not be swallowed up in all the love she’s got.”

My bottom lip started wobbling and I couldn’t help all the tears swimming around my eyes or how they streamed down my cheeks quietly while I listened to him. Little Bit must’ve known how my heart was swelling because they gave another little kick. Sy looked up at me, a grin on his face. It didn’t last long, though.

“You alright, baby?” he asked, looking worried.

I nodded. “You just make me so happy,” I cried.

He moved his hand, putting it on my cheek. His thumb brushed away some of my tears. I saw some cropping up in his own eyes as he smiled at me again. “You make me happy, too, honey bee. The happiest I've ever been.”

Little Bit didn’t kick again for a long while after that day but getting to share that first time with Sy made it all the more special.

#Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill fan fiction #Captain Syverson #Captain Syverson fan fiction #Sand Castle Netflix #Sand Castle fan fiction #Henry Cavill fan fic #Captain Sy fan fiction #Where Kindness Grows

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imagineslashers · 4 years ago

Text

Masterlist!

All my works are linked below!

{Featuring: Bubba Sawyer, Vilmer Sawyer, Jason Voorhees, Pamela Voorhees, Freddy Krueger, Michael Myers, Beetlejuice, Billy Loomis, Stu Macher, Chucky, Tiffany Valentine, Blissfield Butcher, Brahms, Dr. Suave, Mental Manny, Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Hannibal, The Man, Pennywise, Jennifer Check, Patrick Bateman, Sweeney Todd, Mrs. Lovett, Xenomorph Queen, Jack Torrance}

- Texas Chainsaw Massacre

Bubba Sawyer

First Words Soulmate AU

Flower Crowns

House Sharing

Doing Reader’s Hair/Makeup

Favourite Christmas Activity

Reader with Tattoos

Snacks (Thoughts)

Cleaning Bloody Clothes

Neck Biting

Pregnant Reader

Vampire Reader

Disabled/Wheelchair Reader

Periods

Cuddling

Jealous

Wearing Their Clothes

Reader Shaves Legs

Reader Taken Away

Slashers as Dogs

Selectively Mute Reader

Vilmer Sawyer

Father!Vilmer Child!Reader

Dominant & Aggressive

Pregnant Reader

Hickies

- Friday 13th

Jason Voorhees

First Words Soulmate AU

Flower Crowns

House Sharing

Ideal Partner (Thoughts)

Reader Nearly Drowned

Doing Reader’s Hair/Makeup

Favourite Christmas Activity

Reader with Tattoos

Reader Fights with Parents

Snacks (Thoughts)

Possessive

Cleaning Bloody Clothes

Neck Biting

Pregnant Reader

Vampire Reader

Disabled/Wheelchair Reader

Periods

Cuddling

Frilly/Girly Reader

Jealous

Wearing Their Clothes

Reader Bad Day

Reader Taken Away

Slashers as Dogs

Selectively Mute Reader

Poly Relationship with Michael

Pamela Voorhees

Favourite Christmas Activity

Reader uses Wheelchair

Reader with a Protective Dog

- Halloween

Michael Myers

First Words Soulmate AU

Flower Crowns

House Sharing

Ideal Partner (Thoughts)

Doing Reader’s Hair/Makeup

Favourite Christmas Activity

Reader with Tattoos

Snacks (Thoughts)

Cleaning Bloody Clothes

Neck Biting

Pregnant Reader

Survivor Reader

Vampire Reader

Disabled/Wheelchair Reader

Periods

Smol Reader

Cuddling

HSM Scene

Jealous

Wearing Their Clothes

Hearing Michael’s Voice

Reader Taken Away

Slashers as Dogs

Comforting the Reader (Panic Attack)

Selectively Mute Reader

Trans Male Reader

Poly Relationship with Jason

Teenage Reader

- Nightmare on Elm Street

Freddy Krueger

First Words Soulmate AU

Flower Crowns

House Sharing

Ideal Partner (Thoughts)

Doing Reader’s Hair/Makeup

Favourite Christmas Activity

Reader with Tattoos

Snacks (Thoughts)

Neck Biting

Pregnant Reader

Vampire Reader

Disabled/Wheelchair Reader

Cuddling

Jealous

Wearing Their Clothes

Reader Taken Away

Slashers as Dogs

Selectively Mute Reader

- Chucky

Chucky

House Sharing

Favourite Christmas Activity

Reader with Tattoos

Vampire Reader

Red String of Fate

Teenage Reader

Tiffany

Favourite Christmas Activity

Reader uses Wheelchair

Vampire Reader

Teenage Reader

Reader Dyes Hair Pink

- Beetlejuice (movie)

Beetlejuice

First Words Soulmate AU

Flower Crowns

Horny Headcanons

Favourite Christmas Activity

Domestic

Reader in Lingerie

Reader Likes to Sing

Goofball Reader

Red String of Fate Pt. I

Red String of Fate Pt. II

Reader with Tattoos

Snacks (Thoughts)

Neck Biting

Pregnant Reader

Vampire Reader

Disabled/Wheelchair Reader

Wearing Their Clothes

Nice/Sweet Reader

Reader Taken Away

Slashers as Dogs

Selectively Mute Reader

Trans Male Reader

Teenage Reader

- Freaky (2020)

Blissfield Butcher (original)

First Words Soulmate AU

NSFW Headcanons

Selectively Mute Reader

Someone Attempting to Take Away Reader S/O

Angel S/O

Blissfield Butcher (femme!)

Shy Reader Has a Crush on Millie

- The Boy

Brahms

Doing Reader’s Hair/Makeup

- Funhouse Massacre

Bradford Young aka Doctor Suave

Favourite Christmas Activity

Manual Dyer aka Mental Manny

General Relationship Headcanons

- House of Wax

Bo Sinclair

Reader with a Protective Dog

Christmas Prompt

Vincent Sinclair

Christmas Prompt

Lester Sinclair

Christmas Prompt

- Scream

Billy

Favourite Christmas Activity

Snacks (Thoughts)

Vampire Reader

Disabled/Wheelchair Reader

Cuddling

Jealous

Wearing Their Clothes

Reader Taken Away

Slashers as Dogs

Stu

Favourite Christmas Activity

Sick Reader

Snacks (Thoughts)

Vampire Reader

Disabled/Wheelchair Reader

Cuddling

Jealous

Wearing Their Clothes

Reader Taken Away

Slashers as Dogs

Poly

First Words Soulmate AU

Flower Crowns

All In

Bad Day

Reader with Tattoos

Shiny New Toy

Reader Rescues Cat

Selectively Mute Reader

- Hush (2016)

The Man

First Words Soulmate AU

Flower Crowns

The Chase

Doing Reader’s Hair/Makeup

Favourite Christmas Activity

Possessive

Valentine’s Day

Neck Biting

Pregnant Reader

SFW & NSFW Headcanons

Vampire Reader

Reader with PTSD

Disabled/Wheelchair Reader

Slashers as Dogs

Selectively Mute Reader

Jealous

- IT

Pennywise

Favourite Christmas Activity

Breeding Kink

Cleaning Bloody Clothes

Vampire Reader

Slashers as Dogs

- Hannibal

Vampire Reader

Slashers as Dogs

- Jennifer’s Body

Jennifer Check

Favourite Christmas Activity

Reader uses Wheelchair

Vampire Reader

- American Psycho

Patrick Bateman

Favourite Christmas Activity

Reader with Tattoos

Possessive

Cleaning Bloody Clothes

Slashers as Dogs

Reader with a Protective Dog

- Sweeney Todd

Sweeney Todd

Favourite Christmas Activity

Possessive

Cleaning Bloody Clothes

Slashers as Dogs

Mrs. Lovett

Favourite Christmas Activity

- Alien

Xenomorph Queen

Favourite Christmas Activity

Reader uses Wheelchair

- The Shining

Jack Torrance

Favourite Christmas Activity

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shadowjinx626 · 3 years ago

Note

has anyone ask you for the "Family" thing in the age change au?

It was just another day at the McDuck Manor.

Another day of yelling.

"Because of you I lost my brother!" Magica yells as she points a finger at scrooge. "You could've stop him from flying away!"

"I said I was sorry!" Scrooge yells back. He holds his hand up in defense.

"Besides, you deserved it! You and your brother took everyone else families away!" Phantom Blot shouted. "And you still hurt people after your brother went missing! Including me!"

Magica huffed and crosses her arms, "yeah well, you and your village bored me. It deserved to be destroyed."

"Why you-" Phantom Blot shouted as he pounced on Magica and started to pull on her hair.

It didn't take long for the "adults" to come into the room to see what was going on. When Lena and Webby saw the two "kids" fighting, they try their best to separate them.

The other "kids" just continues their activity in the living room, completely ignoring the fight. Except for three. John, Bradford and Goldie were sitting next to one another. John and Goldie were leaning on Bradford's chair while eating some of the candy they gotten from Halloween.

John looks at the fight unimpressed by the whole thing, "this is so boring."

"I thought you like it when they fight," Goldie said.

"It was funny at first, but now it's just boring." John pops a lollipop into his mouth.

"John, what was your family was like?" Bradford ask suddenly.

"Well they spoiled me of course. I'm the living embodiment of the saying 'born with a silver spoon in his mouth.'" John answered with a smug tone.

"Goldie?"

"Same thing for me," The young girl said. "But I gotten tired of the rich lifestyle. I didn't hate it, it was just boring to me. So I became an treasure hunter like Scrooge."

"Urgh, I can't believe you would rather sweat out there instead of basking in your own wealth," John said in disgust.

"Hey now, I don't judge your life style, you don't judge mine."

Bradford sat there in silence as the two "kids" continues their conversation.

#ducktales #ducktales 2017 #john d rockerduck #goldie o'gilt #bradford buzzard #age change au #fan fic drabble

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soldrawss · 4 years ago

Note

So I’mmina start this off by saying literally all your aus/drawing make me smile. They’re all so fascinating and sweet and so,SO well thought out! That being said, not to be that person that brings angst into a fluff buffet but... in your Movie Star Dad AU, do the boys every have mixed feelings about their father suddenly appearing in their lives after a prolonged absence? Also would Christof Von Bradford be an issue for the fam, considering his active competitive jerk energy he has with Lou?

Hi, thank you for your sweet words!!! I literally think about my rottmnt aus every waking moment, no joke, so I’m glad that you think they’re well thought out! I do my best! (also always bring angst. I always have a lot of angst in these au’s, I just also try to even it out with just as much fluff) The boys were YOUNG when Yoshi came into their lives, and each of them have their own perspectives on it, so at the time, they didn’t really have any huge negative feelings towards their situation before Yoshi found them because his absence wasn’t really,,, prolonged.

Mikey was literally a baby, barely a year old, so he doesn’t ever remember a time when Yoshi wasn’t in his life. Yoshi is the only parent Mikey really knows, and he’s completely fine with that. If Mikey has any mixed feelings, it’s towards his late mother, who he has absolutely no memories about, and only really knows her through the pictures Raph kept and the stories Raph and Yoshi would tell about her. He sometimes feels bad that he doesn’t feel as sad about her passing as Raph or Yoshi does, and he sometimes feels bad about not remembering her at all, but it’s also weird cause he knows he shouldn’t feel bad about it, cause he was too little to remember anything anyway and that’s not his fault, but the weird gross feelings in his stomach are there all the same when he thinks too hard about it. So he tries not to think about it. And just blissfully goes about his days with his doting dad and his overindulgent big brothers.

Raph was nervous and distrustful of Yoshi at first, because of course he was. He was 4 years old, sitting in a hospital bed alone with just his tiny baby brother in his arms, nursing a concussion and ugly road rash on his arms and legs while also nursing a broken heart after just losing mama. And then suddenly this man appears, the man in the movies that mama always loved to watch, except he’s not wearing the flamboyant jumpsuit he’s always wearing, but a maroon sweatshirt and old jeans. His signature styled pompadour and orange shades replaced with a disheveled ponytail and bags like bruises under his eyes. And a lot of people come and go throughout the next couple of weeks. Doctors and therapists and child services and lawyers and all of their faces begin to blend together in a dizzying swirl and Raph has a hard time focusing on anyone who isn’t Mikey. But the man stays the same. His face stays intact, and he follows them wherever they go. And then suddenly Raph and Mikey are allowed to go home with the man, and he tells them how he’s their dad. And how he didn’t know they existed, but he’s going to make up for all the lost time tenfold. And he promises he’s gonna love them enough for both him and their mama. Which Raph doesn’t think is possible, and so he’s suspicious and untrusting at first, cause no one can love them more than their mama did. But the man tries. Boy, does he try hard anyway. Tries to win every smiling giggle Mikey shoots at him and earn Raph’s faith that he’ll be there for them. That he’ll protect them. That he’s going to love them forever. And over the weeks and months, through every tantrum and screaming fit and long sleepless nights, he proves it, little by little. He stays. And he loves them. And Raph’s faith in the man grows with every bedtime story and piggyback ride and half-cooked pancake with too much syrup, and Raph’s guard slowly goes down until it’s fully surrendered over to this man who is their dad, and it’s never raised again. Donnie knows the routine. He’s been through it approximately 27 and a half times before, through all the foster care homes. A new family takes him in. He messes up something. The new family gives him back. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. He’s been here before. He knows this isn’t going to last long, despite all the promises the man with the thick accent says. And Donnie doesn’t really register that this man was his biological father. He doesn’t really care to, to be honest. What was the point? His own biological mother had willingly gotten rid of him, Donnie’s snuck a peek at his record, he knew it all. So what if this man was his dad. That didn’t mean anything. He was gonna get tired of Donnie the same way all the other parents did. Tired of the constant questions. Tired of the broken appliances and half baked reasons why he took them apart in the first place, because apparently “I wanted to see how they worked” wasn’t a good enough answer. And Donnie was three years old and smarter than anyone ever gave him credit for and you know what? He was tired of it too. Tired of getting his hopes of a family finally understanding and accepting him. Tired of wanting a family who would love him back. Tired of getting his heart broken time and time again. So he wasn’t going to get his heart broken this time. He wasn’t going to accept anything of this man, with two boys already that shared Donnie’s eyes, and he wasn’t going to let himself be the fool again. And as the weeks went by, this cold shoulder game he was playing was getting harder and harder to keep, because dangit, this man really did try everything to prove that he was the real deal. The forever family. And Donnie’s new ‘brothers’ were always bright-eyed and curious about everything Donnie did and said, and actually wanted to play his weird word games and puzzles and wanted to spend time with him, and Donnie felt something short circuit in his brain because he wasn’t used to this feeling in his chest. This warm and light feeling. Something must be overheating in whatever engine was running inside of Donnie’s chest, and Donnie didn’t have a clue how to fix it. He also didn’t know if he wanted to fix it. But of course, it didn’t matter anyway. Because Donnie messed up. It was bound to happen eventually, Donnie got to brazen with how comfortable he was getting in the large house, and when he was running in the hallways, chasing after Raph in an impromptu game of tag, he accidentally slipped and knocked into the t.v stand, sending it straight to the floor where it broke into a hundred different pieces of glass and tiny wired parts. Donnie was mortified, knowing this would definitely send him back, and he got on his hands and knees and tried to collect the parts and put it back together but there was no time. The man that Donnie was half tempted to call dad half the time was already in the room, searching for the source of the loud crash and when his eyes finally landed on Donnie and the broken t.v behind him, Donnie couldn’t help but burst into tears. And he tried to explain, tried to apologize and he promised he’d fix it, he promised, he’d fix it up brand new and then the man wouldn’t have to send Donnie back. He’d be good. He’d fix this. He promised. Just please don’t send him back. And Donnie didn’t see the way the man’s body flinched at Donnie’s sobbed confession, and didn’t see the man lurch from where he was standing to pick Donnie up and hold him in a tight embrace saying all kinds of things that didn’t make sense to Donnie. Because the man was supposed to be angry. Angry like all the other parents eventually were. Angry and disappointed and tired, not... well... whatever this was. Which was holding him close, and running shaking hands through his hair and rubbing circles into his back and saying “Are you ok? Did you get hurt anywhere? Did you touch the glass? Shhh, shhhh, it’s ok buddy, breathe, you’re ok. You’re not in trouble. You don’t have to fix anything. It’s just a t.v. As long as you’re unhurt, then it’s ok. You’re ok, sweetheart. I got you.” And Donnie could feel the man press kisses into Donnie’s hairline that made the 3-year-old cry even harder, and press his face farther into his dad’s shirt as he clung to him for dear life. Because it’s never been just ‘ok’ before. Never. And for the first time, Donnie was starting to learn that with this family, with this man, being ‘ok’ might just work out after all.

When Leo meets Yoshi for the first time, it’s with a heart already filled to the brim with excitement and acceptance as he fully lets him into his life. Because Leo’s 3, and doesn’t know where he came from like most of the other kids in the halfway home. All he knows is that he’s always lived in this cramped house, sharing a room with a broken AC unit with 4 other boys around his age that just loved picking on Leo because of how small he was and how his skin was two different colors. He’s used to the house, and strict rules about eating and playtime, and the mean older kids that come and go while Leo always stays. He doesn’t want to be used to it, but he is, and his lonely daydreams and nights wishing upon all the stars in the sky are filled with thoughts about a life where he gets to leave this place. Dreams about a mom and dad or even a cool uncle or caring grandparents or literally anyone, coming and rescuing him and taking him far away from this place. Dreams about finding a home, with someone there calling him theirs. Belonging to someone, and having someone belong to him too. And then on a dusty and warm afternoon, that very person showed up, and Leo smiles at him hard enough to hurt his face. And he was looking for Leo, Leo specifically, not someone around Leo’s age or who looked like Leo, but actually Leo. And the man wanted Leo. Wanted him like no one had ever wanted him before. And wanted to take him home and call Leo his forever and Leo would have thought he was still dreaming if he hadn’t kept pinching himself the entire 6-hour flight to New York. And not only did Leo get a dad, but he got 3 brothers as well! 3 brothers, who all looked different than Leo but shared his brown eyes all the same, and didn’t mind that Leo talked a lot or made a lot of jokes and didn’t bully him for being or looking ‘weird’ like the other boys he grew up with did. And even though dad says that Leo’s his, and Raph and Donnie and Mikey want to hang around and play with him, Leo still finds himself pinching himself every night just in case. Because this is almost too good to be a dream. It couldn’t be real, right? Did Leo deserve this? Was it really his to have? To call his own? Was a kid like him, who grew up with nothing, who grew up as a nothing, allowed to have everything, and be somebody worth keeping around? Leo wasn’t sure, but if this was a dream, it was the best one he’d ever had, and he hopes he doesn’t wake up from it anytime soon.

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plainiack-arts · 3 years ago

Note

Have you heard of starfic young bradford au prompts if not you should check it out

P.s i adore your work

I’ve seen their stuff a lot in the Bradford buzzard tag (I practically live there haha) ! I absolutely adore it! Young Bradford is a soft spot of mine and I really love reading their stuff :)!

#ask #Bradford buzzard

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hezurkubo · 4 years ago

Text

When D’jinn meets Gene or “Dramatic Pot Twist!”

Hey there! Just wanted to start off by saying that in order to give this story the desired outcome I was looking for I added in some extra events that I thought could have canonically taken place during certain key moments in “The Last Adventure!” While we as the audience don’t know what happened to everyone else while the main characters were off driving the main plot along I still tried to come up with a side story that seemed plausible at least in terms of timing.

If I overlooked anything and it comes off as complete nonsense that throws off the original plot than please consider this an AU where the side characters play a more proactive role in kicking the butts of F.O.W.L.’s lackeys while our main cast took care of Bradford. This is mostly to satisfy my craving for a meeting that never happened in canon and I still hope that whoever decides to read enjoys this dumb story of mine. With that said.........

“SHABOOEY!”

That was all Gene managed to exclaim before he felt himself vanish in a dramatic flash. He found himself being dragged through the pocket void between realities, a place he’d frequented many times since his existence had been tied to the trinket he’d been forced to call home. While he had yet to feel the familiar power of the ‘Seal of Solion’ connecting him to his lamp, he knew it was only a matter of time.

“Huh, wish I coulda at least thanked her for saving me. Guess now it’s back to the good ol...”

His thoughts were interrupted by a rather abrupt tug to the side through a sudden blinding light, giving Gene just enough time to let out a yelp before tumbling beak first onto a cold hard surface. Groaning as he got to his feet, the duck had to double-take as he got a first look at his surroundings.

And it was, unfortunately, a very familiar site.

He’d become well acquainted with the row upon row of containment units in which the people F.O.W.L. saw as threats to their ‘final goal’ were imprisoned.

“Oh-keeeeey, so.... another dramatic plot twist, shoulda expected that in a ninety minute finale, though not so much for a short cameo appearance.”

Although he was pretty sure what would happen, and despite knowing the repercussions, Gene focused his power and winced in painful anticipation as he tried to will himself out of the current space he occupied.

“Okey three, two, one...SHABOOEY!”

He felt a small spark of magic begin to bubble up within him, allowing him to hope that maybe he could....

ZAP!

The genie doubled over as a short but powerful electric shock coursed through his body. He had been unfortunate enough to witness others struggle for freedom and receive the same treatment, and while he doubted it’d be different for him he felt that he at least had to try. After all, he was magic and it couldn’t possibly hurt that bad....right?

He had been partially correct, but it was still VERY unpleasant.

Thankfully the shock wore off quickly, but rather than test his chances again he moved to the center of the cubicle and sat in the dark, drawing his legs into himself as he rested his arms atop of them and let out a sigh.

“Guess old Blotty really made sure I couldn’t get out of dodge.”

“Not like I’d have a choice anyway...” Gene couldn’t help but think bitterly while resting the the bottom of his beak on his arm. He’d already exchanged one prison for another, so what difference did it make?

Gene let the moments tick on by as he attempted to drown out everything else, which had so far been surprisingly easy despite being surrounded by people....

...And then, despite his best efforts, a familiar thought reared it’s ugly head.

Many of these people were trapped here because of him.

Because the Blot had used his power.

Because he had given him the information needed to capture them.

And he had watched helplessly, his screams for them to run drowned out by their own as they were zapped of their magic, easy for the Eggheads to swoop them up and bring them to this hopeless place while they waited to be done away with for good.

And now Gene was here. He supposed it was fitting, as unwilling as an accomplice he had been in all of this, he still felt deep despair for having been used as a tool for the inevitable destruction of so many innocent lives.

And he would join them. Gene buried his head further into his lap, holding back sniffles as he felt his eyes stinging.

“...At least it’s roomier in here...”

“KA-BOOM!”

“Gyaaa!!! Bees!!! AAAHHH!”

The genie’s head quickly shot up, eyes widening as he took in the commotion echoing off the library’s lofty walls. Scrambling to his feet, he dashed to the front of his cell, pressing his ear against the glass.

Someone was fighting out there, and from the sounds of it they were facing off against Steelbeak.

The kid that had freed him, her friends were still fighting F.O.W.L.

Gene couldn’t fight the small smile that began to spread across his beak despite his teary eyes.

He would never be free, not even if he got out of here. But everyone else still had a chance. There was still hope that this could be made right.

“And the plot thickens!”

__________

Faris Djinn watched helplessly from his prison as Scrooge’s allies valiantly fought against the rooster F.O.W.L. Agent. Clenching his fists to his sides, the desire to unsheathe his sword and join them against these honorless enemies boiled within him, but he knew it was of no use so long as he was trapped like this. Still, that gave him all the more reason to wish to help the group of birds somehow. This was finally everyone’s chance to escape!

The canine warrior had been brought to this strange place after being ambushed and knocked unconscious by his cowardly foe, whom he had barely caught a glimpse of. When he woke up, he was surrounded by blocks of blacked out cubes in what looked like a giant storage facility. After about a day or two, he learned that his first assumptions had been somewhat true.

From what he’d gathered through listening to hushed conversations exchanged while the security guards were busy, and from a few familiar faces detained with him, including his good friend Amunet, he came to realize they had been brought there because they had been labeled as dangerous by simply knowing or associating with Scrooge McDuck and his family.

From close family members and friends to bitter enemies, or from good and bad to neutral, nobody seemed to be spared. It made D’jinn seethe at the injustice of it all, while villains such as the Beagle Boys and the infamous Magica de Spell may have deserved such treatment, this F.O.W.L. organization was indiscriminately locking away so many innocent people. He had even seen them lock up a couple of elderly ducks that could have easily passed as Scrooge’s own parents

(Impossible, he thought, for a man of McDuck’s age)

but not before the old woman had let loose a string of unintelligible words that D’jinn was pretty sure were some colorful expletives.

It appeared that the enemy had overlooked nothing, and any means of escape had been locked away along with them. The canine began to lose track of time as freedom seemed more and more impossible.

But D’jinn remained resolute that if anyone could pull off the impossible, it’d be Scrooge McDuck.

Then, a strangely dressed duck decked in a dark flowing cape and hat swooped in, followed by his heavily armored companion, and while they were acting antagonistic towards each other the dog had a feeling they had come to help. His hopes soared even higher when Scrooge’s pilot crashed in after them. At last help had come.

Then that nefarious Steelbeak had chosen to fight underhandedly, controlling the Beagle Boys and the dread sorceress herself as the heroes fought valiantly back before being imprisoned as well, and any hope of freedom appeared to rest on the shoulders of Launchpad McQuack, Scrooge’s pilot.

D’jinn winced as the poor duck was thrown about and beaten to the ground, unfairly outmatched in strength and numbers.

“Get back up!”

“You got this!”

As big and strong as he seemed in appearance, the warrior canine doubted the pilot could last at this rate, watching from the dark with urgency as he struggled to lift his head.

“Ugh... I’m sorry, I’m no hero...”

D’jinn shook with righteous indignation.

‘No! You cannot give up...!’

He couldn’t just stand by, there had to be something he could do to help, anything....

“That’s ridiculous! You helped inspire me to be a hero!”

He watched in anticipation as Launchpad gathered enough strength to look their way, unsure gaze focused on his friends as they encouraged him to keep fighting.

“And me pal.”

A new source of light brought their attention to the square that held the young red headed duck and the strangely proportioned robot child, both looking back at Launchpad with hope and confidence.

“Same here.”

The prison above them lit up, revealing a familiar Moonlander.

“I as well, Earth Launchpad.”

The room quickly grew brighter as, one after another, everyone stepped forward to show the duck that they believed in him.

And so did D’jinn.

His cubicle lit up as his hope returned.

“Blabbidy-Baloonersize!”

....Later....

Gene watched elated as scores of people poured out from their now-opened confines and began to wreak havoc on anyone unlucky enough to be a F.O.W.L. lackey. It was an unspoken call to arms, inspired by Scrooge’s pilot and, while the genie hadn’t seen what had actually happened, Steelbeak running away while screaming in terror was a pretty clear indication that the good guys were gaining the upper hand.

Gene was so relieved that everyone had been freed, he almost missed Launchpad and company dashing towards the main entrance before slipping out of sight.

He took another look around him, and couldn’t help but quirk the edges of his beak up in a mischievous grin.

“Well.... dunno how long I’ll be sticking around for, might as well be part of the fun...”

“SHABOOEY!!!”

_______

There was low buzz followed by a click, and suddenly the front of his enclosure swung open. Eyes narrowing in careful focus, D’jinn stepped out from his prison and into what was quickly becoming a losing battle for F.O.W.L.’s remaining underlings.

Scrooge’s family had been triumphant, and he was now free to assist in thwarting what remained of their foes once and for all. The canine reached for his hip, unsheathing his sword and slicing it through the air before resting it with his arm against his side. The McDucks may be fighting greater forces, but that didn’t mean there weren’t loose ends to tie up.

“SHABOOEY!”

Ears perking under his keffiyeh, D’jinn turned to the side and lifted his head just in time to see something rather peculiar rounding the corner. It appeared to be a small duck, but he was gliding through the air as if there was nothing to it, a trail of smoke billowing from his lower body.

For a single moment, D’jinn lost his carefully guarded composure as his eyes widened in shock and his jaw dropped.

It was as if all those fantastic stories he’d heard growing up had come to life in front of him.

He recalled the hushed conversations among a few of his fellow prisoners, all regarding the terrifying power the Phantom Blot wielded when he came after them.

However, what now came to the forefront of D’jinn’s mind were their descriptions of the strange and obviously magical little guy smooshed to an impossible degree within the Blot’s gauntlet. He didn’t quite understand what they could be referring to, but now, despite his usually serious demeanor, D’jinn couldn’t stop the small bit of wonderment from rising up in him, momentarily forgetting where he was.

“Could it really be...?”

A loud crash from above followed by a chorus of screaming Eggheads brought him back to reality. The warrior shook his head, scowling to himself for losing focus.

“No, I must not waver! The task at hand requires a warrior’s spirit!”

Sword at the ready, D’jinn quickly made his way towards the sounds of fighting, the lingering thoughts of his ancestors replaced with the challenge to come. He still chanced to glance back one more time at the spot he had last seen that duck, hoping that he’d be able to see him again once all of this was over.

....Later....

With F.O.W.L. defeated and it’s remaining agents scattered, everyone wasted no time in congratulating the heroes of the hour, rushing at McDuck and family as they made their way down the library tower. It was a whirlwind of joyful cries and relieved sighs as the exhausted but happy family meandered amongst the crowd, breaking up into teams to prepare for their departure.

With everything finally settling down, Gene casually sat in midair as everyone else began to disperse and make preparations of their own, all the while chatting amongst each other. He figured it must have been a sense of camaraderie that came with surviving such an ordeal, and while he wished he could fully indulge in the same feelings of comfort, he couldn’t help but feel on edge.

The powers that bound him to the lamp hadn’t reclaimed him yet.

He knew that couldn’t last much longer, whatever forces the Phantom Blot had used to disrupt the seal’s power and separate him from his prison

....no, home....

wouldn’t be able to hold on their own, now that the Blot was gone and Gene was free from any magic-proof confinement.

Earlier, before the extra trepidation had sunk in, he did try to enjoy his temporary freedom for as long as it lasted.

And oh, how he wished it lasted.

The genie chatted briefly with the young sorceress that had freed him, but not until after she and a younger hummingbird finally stopped hugging the pink clad girl, who he recognized as the little spitfire who tied him up and interrogated him during the entertaining fiasco that was Donald’s wish for a ‘perfect family’.

Despite the now growing feeling that this would all end soon, Gene had enjoyed himself. It was nice to just interact with others again and not be at someone’s beck and call. While he did like using his powers to have fun with mortals, there were more than enough terrible things he’d been forced to do, and the ability to simply be among people he knew couldn’t demand something of him was a rare reprieve. One he probably wouldn’t be getting again.

Now, with the excitement beginning to wind down, Gene decided to take in the busy atmosphere, not expecting anyone to notice him up there with how preoccupied they all were.

“Pardon me...”

The duck quickly spun around in midair, looking down and catching the sharp gaze of a rather serious looking canine all dressed in dark, save for a few splashes of red. He was staring up at him so intensely that Gene jokingly thought if he looked at him any harder lasers would shoot from his eyes.

“Hmmm... an interesting side character, guess a little more mingling wouldn’t hurt.”

Without missing a beat, Gene floated down from his place above the crowd to hover at eye level with the stranger.

“Well He-llo there! Always nice to meet a new face!” he said eagerly, flashing a grin that he hoped came off as charismatic and giving a wink.

The dog’s eyes widened for a few seconds before returning to his serious expression. Trying to act nonplussed by the lack of enthusiasm, the duck waved his arm to conjure a neon sign above him, his name spelled in blinking lights. Smile unwavering, he held out his hand.

“Name’s Gene! Nice to meet ya!”

The dog stared at the outstretched appendage, his hesitance causing Gene’s excitement to falter. Luckily, it wasn’t long before he was reaching out and gripping his hand in a firm but friendly shake.

“Faris D’jinn. It is an honor.” He said, head bowing slightly.

“Woah, an honor? Kinda formal, but I think I like it.”

Gene suddenly perked in realization. ‘Faris’, if he recalled, meant knight or horseman, and he couldn’t help but think how it suited the noble looking gentleman in front of him. And with a surname like ‘D’jinn’, well, why would the genie not find that interesting? He became so uncharacteristically lost in these thoughts that he almost failed to realize that his companion was staring at him a bit oddly, and he was suddenly aware that he was still holding his hand.

Awkwardly clearing his throat, Gene hovered back slightly while relinquishing his grip, trying to hide how awkward he felt by widening his smile.

He was sure he looked half crazy.

“Well Mr. D’jinn, I must say it’s a pleasure to meet such polite and proper ol’ gent and- Ooooh!”

Gene was at his side so fast that the warrior nearly jumped away in surprise as the genie’s eyes sparkled with curiosity at the sight of his sword’s hilt peeking from his robes.

“Oh-hoho, that’s quite a blade you got there. It almost looks like... I wanna say late Mamluk dynasty, Burji maybe...? But that can’t be right, unless it’s a really good replica.”

If D’jinn was shocked by his educated guess he hid it well, although Gene did notice the dog’s brow raise slightly from were it was hidden under the hem of his headdress.

“You are quite wise, although I would not expect anything less from a great and mystical genie.”

Gene’s eyes shot up from the finely crafted blade to the canine’s face. The gaze that met him was serious but not in a way that came off as cruel or accusatory. Still, that look, accompanied by such a bold statement, made the duck want to buckle his knees and shrink into himself.

Just who was this guy?

“Are you not a genie?”

The duck suppressed the urge to gulp at the quiet forcefulness behind the simple inquiry. It was after all a sensible question, he did more or less fit the description of his kind, though he liked to think he set himself apart with his showman’s flare because, servant or not, he still liked seeing others smile.

Now, his inner showman was currently at a loss for words, opting for wanting to hide his face in his turban.

“Get it together Genester! You heard him, how ‘great and mystical’ do you think you look right now?”

Trying to shake of the awkwardness, he disappeared from D’jinns side to reappear in front of him in a puff of smoke.

“Yessir! One-hundred percent bonafide and certified wish-granting genie, that’s me!” Gene exclaimed, conjuring up a laminated license that read ‘Certified Genie: Gene C. Baba’ complete with a photo of himself smiling awkwardly while donning a thick pair eyeglasses and suspenders.

D’jinn stayed unwaveringly quiet as the duck nearly shoved the card to his face.

“He he... yeah, funny thing though, the whole ‘wish-granting’ part of my deal is a bit... compromised at the moment. Y’see, only the holder of a genie’s lamp can control said genie, i.e., me” Gene pulled an arrow out of thin air and pointed towards himself “and big bad and Blotty left my lamp behind along with the rest of the lost treasure of Collie Baba when he sucked me into that fancy oven-mitt of his, you’d think with all his magical know-how he wouldn’t forget that important tidbit, right?”

Why did he sound so nervous?

“And I tell you what, I’m glad I’m not strapped to that thing anymore...!”

D’jinns eyes widened as a grim realization dawned on him.

“So, it is true. The device the Phantom Blot carried with him, the one he used to steal the magic from those he hunted...”

“I swear it was totally against my will!”

The canine shook his head. “No, I heard of its use from other captives, some who were brought here months before F.O.W.L. found me. Gene, how long have they kept you prisoner?”

The genie awkwardly rubbed one of his arms, looking away from D’jinn as the mood shifted drastically. While he may had been a little uncomfortable before, now he wanted to focus on anything but the dog in front of him. He might end up saying something that would break his facade, and he couldn’t....

“Technically, was already a prisoner. Y’know, the whole ‘genie in the lamp’ deal.”

“What are you doing?! Stop talking before...!”

“It’s like, I dunno... I’m almost glad this happened...”

“Idiot...”

“I mean not that I helped capture all those people or anything, because I still feel real bad about all that! It’s just that, whatever he did, even after I escaped, I’m still here. This right now is the closest I’ve ever felt to being...”

A sudden feeling of a hand gently enveloping his own prevented him from saying anything else. Momentarily shocked out of his train of thought, Gene dared to look back at the stranger he had begun to admit his sadness to.

He expected to see pity, but the eyes that looked back at him held something different. They were narrowed and serious, but not like before. There was fire in that glance, and as D’jinn’s grip on his hand tightened it only seemed to burn brighter.

“You shall be free, that I promise you.”

If Gene’s eyes got any wider he thought they’d escape out of his head. Heck, there was a better chance of that happening than what the man in front of him had just said.

“Heh, Being trapped in that pickle jar must’ve done a number on my ears. Y’know everything’s muffled in there, might not have heard ya right....”

He tried to laugh, to call the his bluff.

The dog said nothing, nor did he change his determined expression. He simply gave Gene’s hand a quick but firm squeeze, as if to reaffirm what he said.

“But why....”

Just then, he felt it.

It wasn’t how he expected it to happen, but he knew.

A panicked glance down confirmed his suspicions as he saw a bright light spread from the tip of his shoes, gradually making its way up his body, a familiar emptiness growing with it.

His time was up.

“No, please, it can’t be over yet...”

He felt D’jinn grab his other hand.

Even as he felt himself fading away, as he began to feel despair weigh him down further and any lingering hope drained from him, Gene again dared to look up at his companion.

He was greeted by the kindest smile he had ever seen.

“Because, it is the right thing to do.”

A single flash, and the genie was gone.

___________

D’jinn was left standing at the now-empty space in front of him, hands outstretched to cusp something that was no longer there as his smile disappeared, allowing the heaviness of the moment sink in.

That silly little duck hadn’t been at all what he expected. The stories his grandmother told him painted a picture of genies as powerful and filled with fiery intimidation, as well as being wiser than any mortal born of flesh and bone...

“Technically, I was already a prisoner.”

D’jinn’s frown deepened. Those words, they certainly weren’t spoken by some mighty cosmic being, but by a man, who could feel sadness and fear just like anyone else.

D’jinn thought back to the story of his ancestor and a kind servant trapped for eternity, until she saw it in her heart to exchange that eternity for a lifetime of love and happiness. This was certainly a different situation, but wasn’t it still the right thing to do?

And those eyes.

The look of desperation in those beautiful gold-colored eyes as he vanished were now burned into his memory. It was a cry for help, and the warrior ached to answer it.

He had made a promise, and while it may had been spoken in a passionate spur of the moment, he would honor it.

Resolute, he scanned the enormous crowd, his well-trained senses focused and on high alert for any sounds or scents that would lead him to his quarry. The minutes ticked by as his stoic expression masked his growing apprehension.

“There!”

It was faint among the throngs of people surrounding him, nearly undetectable, but his keen canine nose picked up on a familiar smell of dusty tomes mixed with the metallic scent of coins. With extreme calculation, he allowed his tracking instincts take the helm as he stealthily maneuvered through the crowd, ears perked beneath his keffiyeh for any signs of...

“Della, Launchpad! How’re the plane repairs comin’ along?”

Quiet relief washed over D’jinn when he noticed a familiarly distinct top hat poking out from the crowd near the library’s entrance. Making his way towards the fellow adventurer, he couldn’t help but notice just how tired the old man looked, uncharacteristically showing his age.

“Scrooge, my friend.”

Caught off guard, the duck tensed so hard that he nearly lost his balance before turning to the canine in surprise.

“D’jinn? Bless me bagpipes that villainous vulture nabbed you too?”

Scrooge shook his head as he adjusted his spectacles, expression shifting back to exhaustion, his browsed creased upwards in guilt.

“I’m sorry lad, you lot were all dragged into this mess because of me. I cannae imagine what you must ‘ave endured at the hands of those fiends.”

D’jinn’s eyes narrowed as he placed his hand on his chest, expression serious but sincere.

“Noble Scrooge, the only true guilty ones are the villains you speak of, those who would seek to harm the innocent indiscriminately and use them for their own nefarious means.”

Scrooge’s sighed heavily at the canine’s statement.

“Aye, like me poor darlin’ Webby.”

Like Gene.

“I have dedicated my life to righting such wrongs. I hold nothing against you my friend, I could not let such transgressions against an ally stand. That is why we are here. You have many on whom you can rely, and friends are part of the journey as well, are they not?”

Scrooge stared at D’jinn for a moment, absorbing the man’s insightful words before breaking into a gentle smile, eyes shining with gratitude.

“Thank you, I... needed to here that. I know I can rely on my family when I need ‘em, but it takes times like these to remind this stubborn old fool that ‘family’ can be many things.”

Scrooge silently laughed at himself.

“Sorry, been feeling a little more sentimental than usual.”

Nodding in understanding and knowing that he’d soon depart, Djinn decided to waste no time and reached into his robes as he lowered himself onto one knee, startling Scrooge with this sudden change in demeanor as he withdrew a blank scroll along with a quill.

“Not all has been made right, and my journey must continue.”

The look of determination that met the old duck’s gaze startled him with its ferocity.

“Scrooge McDuck, I simply need a moment to ask you some questions, and the rest will fall to me.”

Scrooge stared back for a moment, perplexed. His family would be leaving soon, and he needed to help them prepare. However, the weight of the severity in the canine’s request, along with the deep sincerity with which he’d said it, told him all he needed to know. Nodding in affirmation, Scrooge watched as D’jinn unraveled the scroll in front of them, quill raised and ready.

“I wish to know about the lost treasure of Collie Baba, and the lamp that is hidden there.”

I’m so sorry, that took MUCH longer to complete than I wanted it to, l have more projects planned and hopefully once courses are over they won’t be as bad. Also sorry for the poor writing quality, I’m kind of rusty. Still I hope that whoever took the time to read this found something entertaining about it. Thank you for your interest, until next time!

#ducktales #dt17 #faris djinn #gene the genie #gene c. baba #faris d'jinn #fargene #djinn x gene #self-indulgent nonsense #sorry it took so long #launchpad mcquack #the last adventure fanficion #ducktales fanfiction #bad fanfiction #d'jinn x gene #scrooge mcduck

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