#bills lying about not having powers. he has some and does eventually get more back. but hes as always been a slinky little liar

[huginsmemory]

I don’t know why this just clicked after reading your fanfic for the millionth time lol. Ford is wearing a wedding ring. Does that mean they renewed their vows or did Ford just get rings for them? I know this is sappy but Bill finally signing the divorce papers would have my heart hurt in a good way.

Oh my god you've read my fic multiple times... damn man, extremely high compliment ❤️🥺. also hehehehehe yessss, the RING. Technically there's more complicated things behind the ring(s) because they actually exist for longer then you expect 👀 and they actually form a large part of the fic I'm working on now, which is on more details on their relationship and how it all occurs (ie, karaoke night, and then also Bill arriving to the shack). Some details are yet to be fleshed out; but unfortunately for you, Bill would essentially never choose to sign the divorce papers. He barely has any powers, and having at least that is some power over Ford because Ford hates it and also is beholden to it; plus it's on about a relationship he'd never want to sever. I think the only thing that would cause him to sign the papers is if they get close again and Ford betrays Bill in some form, and Bill would then sabotage their relationship out of anger (ie hurting both of them); part of this, as with everything, would come with a good dollop of self sabotage from guilt. Very interesting prospect itself, hmmm... Nevertheless, as a sap myself, they definitely do eventually renew their vows and are probably grossly adorable about it (you can't not have SOMETHING, Mabel would be devastated).

[detectivemaker]

my own idea for a bill redemption story

So it starts like a lot of others I’ve seen with Bill being to earth to try and make some progress, but with an extra executive, which each steps he takes in bettering himself, he gains one of his powers

When set of twins come back to find that the triangular nuisance of their existences is back in existence he’s regained the power of levitation and mind reading, he regained these abilities because he saved me from falling down stairs she’s pregnant and that counts as saving two lives

after soos talks

Ford down from blasting the triangle into re non-existence, melody suggests   that the younger set of twins and  bill go around town to find problems to solve

Only Mabel agrees to do this so she and Bill go around town doing little tasks, none of which spark any flair old Power into Billy boy,  eventually they get back to the shack  and decide to  stargaze

As they do so bill senses that Mabel  is trying to not think about something he inquires about what she's trying to keep from the Forefront and that causes the floodgates of both tears and anxiety thoughts about their parents impending divorce to burst  open

Bill consoles her about feeling like she's losing her parents and says that he can relate (cuz you know he literally lost his parents),   she continues to have sad feelings in her brain even after the tears are wiped from her eyes,   bill thinks of something to give her to give a spark of happiness again and in a proof it comes into existence, and with that he's weakening disability to just make things appear

During another trip into town to try and find little tasks to do the ambushed by a group of gnomes who are trying to kidnap Mable to be their Queen again,  dipper has accompanied them and whatever the Gnomes has a very dangerous looking stick, boo pushes the boy out of the way of the stick-wielding gnome and it's likely grazed in his place,  summoning a leaf blower he blows away many of the Gnomes except for the leader, he commands little creep to march his way to the knee was body of water and stick his head in, the gnome does so without any complaint, and just like that he's gained his ability to control minds again

Sometime later in the story bill and  stan get into an argument and he admits something that he's never admitted to anyone, he loves Stanford,   stan says he's lying and bill says in a serious tone he's never used in a long while

" you can call my bluff on a lot of things  stanley,  but when I say that I love your brother... I'm not lying"

And then you tell the ports to the guest room  he's been using as a bedroom, and he cries himself to sleep, something he hasn't done since the night after the distraction of his entire dimension

Breakfast the next morning is tense, and it's his turn to bring a plate down to Stanford seeing as he hasn't left his lab since he learned that bill was back, the ride down the elevator to the basement is quiet, he's half expecting an atom  destabilizing gun to be pointed in his face when the elevator doors open, but they're Stanford sits  lit by the overhead lights, he's writing down something,  he doesn't start her when Bill levitates and places the plate of bacon and eggs on to the table he's  working at

"  i've been thinking about us ", bill says  sitting tensed  on the wood of  stanford's work desk," and I just want to say i'm sorry", he doesn't have to say that  stanford doesn't have to forgive him it just seems to be something that's already known between the two

Bill knows you're probably be hit with a metal wall if he tries to peer into the man's thoughts, but somehow he knows that Stanford's been thinking about  them too, maybe even before he learned that he was still alive

He relaxes when a six-fingered hand placed itself a top his

" i've missed you" one of them says it doesn't matter which and was a exhale bill thinks about change

And that's when he is suddenly shapeshifts into a more human form causing the table he was sitting on to turn on to its side

That's sort of all I have for right now

[mythomagically-delicious]

Okay so in a better world au ford and fiddleford created the Institute and made up, right? What happened to stan?

The point of that first post about "the twist" was this: what if Stan and Ford switched bodies and stans was sent into the portal with ford inside, and Stan in Ford's body remained behind. Stan immediately tries everything to turn it back on, to no avail. He went thru hundreds of papers and notes trying to understand ANYTHING and he got some general idea that ford had had a research partner out here who knew things- knew ford, knew the portal, he could help!

Stan in Ford's body races to town instead of staying isolated in the cabin for four weeks, and finds fiddleford. Fiddleford looks confused and stranger than the notes suggested but it matches up. He begs fiddleford to help him, and despite the falling out fiddleford has enough fondness for his old friend remaining that he is swayed. He doesn't get his full mind erased by the society bc he isn't abandoned fully and left wandering the town to be targeted by blind Ivan in his power grab.

Fiddleford and Stan (in Ford's body) go back to the shack and stan starts to take him to the basement when fidds starts freaking out, yelling and crying about the world-shattering consequences. About the things he saw, rhe demon, and more. Stan calms him down, takes him back upstairs. He's frustrated to high heaven and back but he knows he could never do this alone.

(He hasn't told fiddleford who he really is. Yet. He will, he just needs some help first. Who would help a loser like stan? But ford has a friend, he can be ford for a little bit to work the angle and get his brother back.)

It takes time. Way too much time, for Stan, but fiddleford slowly recovers enough of his sanity and calms his nerves enough to go down to the basement and not freak out. Stan admits to anything fiddleford asks him about, anything he saw from Ford's notes and makes it convincing that he's asking for a second chance. Maybe they could rebuild it, better? Without demon assistance?

Fiddleford helps tear it to shreds. They mark every part as they dismantle it and fiddleford searches for the reasons it opened a portal to nightmares. He doesn't follow schematics blindly, any more, no more blind trust to his friend. But he does help. Stan is learning on the job. He isn't convincing in the slightest of being a genius but fiddleford is too frazzled to notice. He's got his own shit going on.

They tear it down. Stan is afraid and angry and desperate but he holds his shit together. Fiddleford regains more of himself as they go. Stan learns more about ford and fiddlefords time together as fiddleford recovers memories and tells them to Stan. Stan makes his own notes, of how to Be Stanford Pines.

In time, they get to a stable place of living in the shack together, Stan trying to learn as much as he can about this science shit, pretending he was hit by the memory gun into forgetting himself when fiddleford questions it. Fidds is afraid to go confront the society, and can't remember where they are anyway. Stan doesn't care about it as long as his cover isn't blown. He hasn't told fiddleford yet. He will! But not yet.

They begin to plan a new, stable trans-dimensional vortex. It takes a whole hell of a lot, but they slowly build it anew. Still in the cursed basement, not even a skeleton of the old machine left after they destroyed it the first time.

Stan is flying less by the seat of his pants. Taking a leaf from Ford's book and staying up to radically terrible hours of the night studying and trying to understand all the science and math shit to make this work, to keep stringing fiddleford into helping him. Fidds takes time for his own projects and Stan doesn't bug him about it, saying if it makes money to split it, and when fiddleford hits a big invention that also happens to patent well and spread? They use the money to help their new portal.

It takes ten years to do it, but they recreate the portal, this time to a place they can control thru careful calibration. Fiddleford writes a scientific paper about it, publishes it with ford as a co-author, and they get international renown. Stan knows how to work a crowd and he uses their leverage to get people invested in investing, so to speak. It's not cheap to fund the energy required to turn it on, so they expand the building and create the Institute of Oddology, given enough time and building and circumstances lining up just right.

Fiddleford runs the teams and the day to day stuff. Stan handles finances and resource allocation and scheduling tours, interested parties, rivals, anything business side. He and fiddleford go to the first stable dimension together , though, and Stan uses all of the science gizmos at their disposal to search for ford while they're there.

He doesn't find him. He still hasn't told fiddleford. Its been too long at this point, right? What if he takes the money and fame and everything and kicks Stan out for lying? He mostly rode fiddlefords genius to get here, there's no way he'd not be mad about this.

They go to many dimensions. Stan takes samples and learns scientific process thru osmosis over the years and contributes to publishibg written works to the greater scientific community.

He looks for Ford. He finds nothing. He tells no one his true purpose for everything he's achieved to that point. He lies and wears Ford's face and shakes hands and is a sham.

One day Fiddleford races to his office, frantic and eyes wide and hands shaking slightly like Stan hasnt seen in years. It's been 30 years since ford was lost to the portal. And fiddleford comes to him and says there's a parallel you, Stanford, in conference room B, we need to send him on his way immediately, you remember what happened to Ernie on that trip 8 years back?

And Stan ignores this, heart pounding, and knocks fiddleford out, locking him in the office, racing to conference room B.

He bursts in, and sees a version of his brother. One he doesnt see in the mirror. A real Stanford Pines, 30 years older than the kids they were when they fought beside the portal. Apparently no universe is fair, if ford ends up inside in multiple dimensions.

Stan is speechless. The portal!ford is on the defensive, but interest is clear in his face. He keeps his distance, cognizant of parallel!fiddlefords warning from before. Of counterparts meeting in a dimension of origin. Annihilation.

Stan cries. Ford looks shocked to see his own self in such a state. He doesn't know what to do. Stan surges forward for a hug and Ford tries to dodge, afraid of the consequences. Stan traps his hands to his sides and sobs on Ford's mysterious black coat, calling him brother. Ford's inner alarm bells go off even as he clenches his eyes shut against the incoming total destruction.

When nothing happens except for a wet patch to grow on Ford's clothes, he opens his eyes and studies himself. They look scarily similar, truth be told. His counterpart heartier than he, an interdimensional fugitive. That makes sense. Parallel ford is apologizing into his jacket and clutching him hard enough to leave bruises.

Ford dodges out of the grapple his counterpart has him in. He demands answers in a clipped tone. Stan does his best to reign it back in as he confesses what transpired in this dimension to this dimension traveling ford. How he hopes his own brother, trapped in stans body, is still out there, still surviving, still where Stan can find him.

Ford starts a fight. Stan defends himself but it gets physical and he doesn't have the same instincts to take down he did when he was younger. He remembers the last fight he had with his brother, and doesn't want that to happen again.

Fiddleford eventually gets free of the office and runs in to see parallel ford beating the shit out of his ford. He stuns ford with a device on his belt and brings things back to some semblance of order, getting a first aid kit out to tend to them both. P!Ford's knuckles, mainly, and stans face.

The truth comes out, ugly and stained and fiddleford forgives Stan immediately. He turns to parallel ford and helps him out of the room, promising help with his weapon and more, later.

Stan is left with the knowledge that all these years later, no matter what he does, his brother hates him.

Fiddleford helps ford with his weapon. If ford can destroy bill cipher, more dimensions will open up to be explored. If his and stans ford is still alive out there, they'll have a better shot if Bill is out of the picture. They send parallel!ford off a few days later. Fiddleford goes to Stan that night and calls him by a name that hasn't been spoken in 30 years. Stan can barely look at him. Fiddleford gives him time and space, but tells him he understands.

A month and a half later, a ripple is felt thru thousands of dimensions at once, the death of Bill cipher in every iteration is making its way thru the multiverse. Celebrations are happening as people cheer and laud thr name of the one who saved them, spread in a cosmic understanding by some greater power. Stanley Pines, shatterer of Bill Cipher.

4 years later, they find Ford. Ford in Stans body is old, ragged. He's missing an eye and an arm and so much more of who he used to be. But they bring him home. He doesn't want to switch bodies back.

Stan feels guilt eat at him, but ford is different than the other traveler they'd met. He's more settled. He thanks Stan for finding him. Doesn't blame him for how long it took. Didn't think he'd be come for anyway.

It's strange and rocky but slowly strides are made to bridge the gap of decades and become people they want to be, again. Brothers, friends, explorers. They never body swap again, but they settle into themselves and own who they are.

[amor-immortalem]

Can I Stay Up Here With You Forever ch.4

Previous

Taglist: @mediocredetective

Warnings: Mentions of past child abuse and neglect

“So, what’s the plan for today? Or are we jus’ stayin’ home all day?” Mammon asks as he lugs the suitcase he brought with him into the bedroom and opened some dresser drawers to put his clothes away.

“I figured we could go out and explore more of the city together. Plus, I want to get a few more pieces of furniture to fill out the house.” Arella runs a hand through her hair as she stretches. “Breakfast was great, by the way. Thank you.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t that good- not compared to last night’s dinner anyway...”

“Don’t put yourself down like that, Honey.” The human gets off the bed to hunt for some clothes of her own. “You’re cooking is good, okay?”

He nods slowly. “Not if you ask my brothers though... One of ‘em always has something ta say ‘bout it- and none of its good. Even Beel has complaints sometimes.”

She frowns in response. “Well, I’ll have you know I genuinely enjoy your cooking. I wouldn’t mind if you cooked for us more often.”

Another nod from the demon as he returns to his task of emptying out his suitcase and Arella continues her search for the perfect outfit.

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“Where is he, Solomon,” The Avatar of Pride questions the sorcerer as he stands in the foyer of Purgatory Hall.

“I’ve already told you, Lucifer.” Solomon replies with a smile on his face. “I don’t exactly know. The human world is the best answer I can give you.”

The demon studies the human for a moment to deduce whether or not he’s lying about know where Mammon is. “Where in the human world?”

“I don’t know. Arella wouldn’t tell me where exactly she was summoning him to.” It’s a tiny lie. Of course, he knew exactly where they were, but Lucifer didn’t need to know that. “I have no reason to lie to you, Lucifer, but why exactly is it that you want to find your brother so badly?”

“I want to... apologize for my actions. It seems, after further review of the situation, that I was wrong. The bill I received was full of fraudulent charges to his credit card. Does that change your answer?” The first-born narrows his eye as the silver-haired sorcerer shook his head. “Then I’ll be off. If you hear anything, I want to be the first to hear about it.

Solomon only nodded, an amused smile playing on his lips. He wondered just how long it would take the demon to pinpoint Mammon and Arella’s location.

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They bounced from shop to shop throughout the day finding many cute trinkets and knick-knacks on their journey. The cutest ones- and Mammon’s personal favorite- was a set of crows sitting on a tree branch together, their bodies turned away with their heads pressed together so that they formed the shape of a heart. He instantly picked it up after Arella made the comment that the crows were representative of them and their love.

As their small shopping spree came down to an end, they had stopped to take a break in a park, just taking a moment to rest and enjoy the beautiful day. It filled Mammon with a warm feeling he wasn’t quite sure he could name just yet so he just opted to hold her hand as they relaxed on the park bench as a few small families played nearby.

His attention in particular was pulled to one certain family: A mother and father with their three boys. Watching them drug up a desire he thought he’d never have.

“Hey, babe,” He starts quietly.

“Yes, Love?” she hums in response.

“Do... Do ya want kids...?”

“Do you?” Arella replies with a question of her own, green eyes peering up at the demon.

“I asked you first.”

With a chuckle she answers, “Yes... having children with you wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. I’d love to one day down the road. How many do you want?”

“Just one would be good enough,” He smiles, resting his cheek against the top of her head as they sit there in peace for a while longer.

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Sitting in his office, attempting to keep his mind off Mammon, Lucifer was working on his ever-growing stack of paperwork. It wasn’t working and something in the back of the demon’s mind was gnawing at him. Something Arella had said to him roughly a month ago about stealing his brother away to the human realm and never returning. A laughable idea for as much as he knew she wasn’t joking; she really held no power to make that decision. Mammon was a demon- one of the seven lords of hell. His place was here in the Devildom whether she liked it or not. Mammon himself had to realize this was all pointless eventually and then he would come home and that would be the end of it. Or at least that’s what Lucifer hoped anyway. He really didn’t want to have to drag his brother back here kicking and screaming.

Stepping away from the old, worn-out desk, the eldest decides a break for tea and a phone call might do better to take his mind of things for the time being.

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Putting up her dusty old tomes on various mythologies of the ancient past, Aubrie could just barely hear the phone. Hopping down off the ladder, the mythologist swiped up the device- a gift from the only demon in her contacts. He was lucky she didn’t have it turned off like she usually did while she was working.

“Good evening, Lucifer,” Holding the shiny D.D.D. to her ear, she answered with a chirp. “To what do I owe the honor?”

“Good evening, Aubrie.” Lucifer’s voice is smooth as silk and Aubrie has to wonder if he just naturally talks like that or he was using that ‘seductive speechcraft’ Arella had mentioned some time ago to get whatever it was that he wanted from their conversation. “Have you spoken to Arella recently?”

“I have. You know she just moved from England, right?” The ginger chirps. “I texted with her this morning to see how it went.”

“Actually, I didn’t.” The Avatar of Pride hummed as he sipped on his tea. “That’s interesting. Where abouts did she move?”

“I wish I knew. The best I can say is somewhere in mainland Europe,” Aubrie lets out a sigh. “I want to go visit her. I can’t imagine how lonely it is to move to an entirely different country where you’re alone- although for Arella that’s pretty on character...”

“She does seem independent,” Lucifer hums, “I’m sure she’ll be fine. Actually, that’s part of the reason I called. I’m sure she told you that my brother’s with her when you spoke earlier... I need her to send him back. He can’t be missing so much school- his grades are already abysmal to begin with and the longer she keeps him up there, the worse they’ll get. Plus, I have things I need to talk with him about.”

“She's worried about his safety with you, Lucifer. Apparently, you broke his elbow somehow? Or something to that effect.”

“I didn’t break his elbow. No, he did that on his own by falling on it, but my actions helped lead to it so I have some blame in it.” The black-haired demon sighs, “That’s why I’m looking for them. I want to apologize to Mammon- he didn’t exactly deserve what I did that led up to him breaking his elbow.”

The human nods at that. “And here I thought you would be too proud to apologize.” She teased.

“If it were anyone other than my brothers, maybe.” He admits. “But in their own way, each of my brothers are important to me. We’ve been together for eons. Losing a single one of them would be devastating to our family, Aubrie. Like right now, the house has been too quiet and dark since Mammon left for the human realm. Things aren’t right until he comes home.”

“I see, but if you knew your brother would be happier up here in the human world with Arella... would you let him go?”

“I can’t- and it's not because I don’t want him to be happy, quite the opposite, actually- if we were not of such high rank and standing, then I would be content to allow Mammon to follow what makes him happy- whether that be here in the Devildom or up in the human world to allow him to live amongst the humans.”

“What do you mean?”

“I'm sure Arella has told you about our rank here in the devildom. We’re each to rule over a layer of Hell once we leave RAD in a few years. Mammon has a responsibility to the Devildom as Lord of the Fourth Layer. It's not a thing that he can just leave behind in favor of spending the rest of his human’s minimal lifespan up in the mortal realm.”

“You could be less harsh on him though. I know our morals on what is wrong and right are different and it’s foolish for us to force our morals on to literal demons from some of the stories she mentions about the way you all treat your brother... Well, it sounds like abuse to me and for someone like Arella, that’s very triggering for her.”

“What do you mean by that?” Lucifer’s interest was piqued at the human’s words. He knew next to nothing about Arella’s past before the exchange program and she never talks about her past to begin with so having the opportunity to hear about it was enticing to the Avatar of Pride.

“Her home life when we were children was... less than happy. Her mother was physically, emotionally, and verbally abusive as well as neglectful. I have plenty of pictures from when we were children where she’s covered in bruises, black eyes, busted lips. She would never say anything against her mother so protective services couldn’t do anything for her, but we all knew that woman was the cause of them. So you see, the way you treat your brother drudges up all that old trauma for her and that’s why she behaves the way she does. Wouldn’t you do the same thing if you were in her shoes, Lucifer?”

“You’re not wrong.” He goes to take another sip of his tea but the cup is empty. “This was nice and also very insightful. I have to go now, enjoy the rest of your evening, Aubrie.”

“Thank you, Love. You too. Make sure to go to bed a reasonable time tonight.” There was a short pause on her end before Aubrie began sputtering apologies and trying to back pedal her way out of that embarrassing situation and the line eventually just cut off.

Lucifer couldn’t help but laugh softly at the ridiculousness of it all. Humans sure were a funny creature.

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Next

Find more writings on my masterlist

[razorblade180]

Interdimensional Moms pt4

Part 3 here! <-

The tales had be interesting. The tales had even been emotionally gripping, yet all of them so far didn’t seem to register at the moment as Ruby’s teammates looked at her with the same excitement she used to give her own mother during story time. Ruby couldn’t help but give a little smile.

Ruby:I take it you’re ready for my turn? You do know it’s not exactly a sunshine and rainbows story, right?

Weiss:We figured as much, but....

Yang:You’re so different! From the moment you showed up I could just feel it in my gut. You have this...presence about you. Not to mention intsene confidence.

Blake:Yang is right. You said you beat your Salem when your seventeen. That’s...scary if I’m being honest. Such a drastic departure from any of our worlds.

Ruby:*red* Hehehe ummm I guess I’m just awesome? Really I don’t think it’s the most outstanding feat. At least by my worlds standards I suppose. I mean sure, I’m consider cream of the crop there too but there’s talented people and challenges all over that would put me through my paces still. I’m just...me.

Weiss:Sigh...honestly, I suppose that means our own skills must pale in comparison to our counterparts.

Ruby:Mmmm I wouldn’t say that for sure. My Yang would kill me if she heard this but there’s something about the one right here that has spark I dig.

Yang:Really?

Ruby:Uh huh. Can’t put my finger on it but I think you take her if you want it bad enough. As for Weiss....couldn’t tell ya. Haha, I know better than anybody to not underestimate the power of mother, and you pumped twins out.

Weiss:Not sure if those are pity points or real ones but thanks either way.

Blake:You don’t even have to tell me I’d lose. Just gave an entire story about me an my condition.

Ruby:Don’t feel too bad about it. I can’t imagine much reason for you two to fight for any reason. You’re both too reasonable to not reason with yourself.

Blake:Aw I’m touched.

Yang and Weiss:We aren’t....

Ruby:Hahaha I’m just saying! So, I guess I take things from the top like you all? From what I learned from all of you our Beacon experiences really are more or less the same, not counting certain interactions between a bookworm faunus and an adorkable blonde knight. Enrolled early, blew up the entrance, Weiss was rude, Yang ditched me, all the same beats.

Yang:There’s no super badass change like you beating Cinder the night of dance and making our entire lives easier?

Ruby:Ha! I wish I was that legit. No, I was very much the young girl tripping in heels that night. Vytal festival came around and was attacked, then Beacon fell. Pyrrha was lost and so was Penny. Difference being that was my last time seeing her, unlike Weiss’s story apparently.

Weiss:Yeah that...that’s a little bit of shock to be frank. Sorry.

Ruby:No worries. Not like you did anything and it was decades ago for me now. After that day is when I started to get a bit more serious I think. I had always taken being a huntress seriously and never slacked of in trying to live my dream. However, my perspective may have honed in on just how do or die life his when you’re the one choosing to walk into unknown danger. Team RNJR’s first and only mission, save the world!

Yang:Sub mission: Flirt with Jaune Arc.

Ruby:*blushing* We do not choose who we fall in love with it. But yes, that may have been a personal pseudo mission for me. He’s my first friend at Beacon for crying out loud and I you know.....thought he was cute then too.

WBY:Yeah that checks out.

Ruby:What does that mean!?

Weiss:Ruby, even my Ruby admits to finding Jaune attractive and having a crush on him back in the day.

Blake:Same.

Yang:I already went into enough detail on how my little sister feels about Jaune. Your just the reality where you pounced on the opportunity and never let go. Struck when the iron was hot and none of us were around; sly fox.

Ruby:Gee you make it sound underhanded. It isn’t like I intended to actively pursue him. Everyone was really sad and stressed traveling to Anima. There was a tension in the air. One that really strained us. I did my best to keep focus, but a leader is only as put together as team. Ren and Nora confided one another as usual and I tried being there for Jaune because seeing him emotionally shut down was rough; so I did my best to be there for him. Then...he ended up being there for me and I was the one who needed comfort. All the airing out and late nights just...led to....*red*

Blake: “Breaking the tension?”

Ruby:I guess that’s one way of putting it. We were lonely. I hid my feelings best I could under the veil of comfort in the moment. Not that needed to. He made it pretty clear that he wanted me in the same way I wanted him. I just the two of us were too scared to ask for promises we weren’t sure we could keep so we loved in the moments we could, so to speak.

Weiss:If it wasn’t under dire situations, all that sounds oddly romantic.

Ruby:Right!? Looking back at it makes the entire thing seem romantic but I definitely wouldn’t wish a similar experience on anybody! I guess it’s what I wished for when I fantasized huntress life huh? Things obviously got better along the way. Our relationship got a bit more serious right before we got to Haven. Then Tyrian and other crazy stuff happened that threw all of us into panic mode again before slowly getting better again by a lot.

Yang:We showed up?

Ruby:Bingo! You and Weiss, met Oscar, and then eventually Blake came back. Things were on the up and up.

Weiss:Uh, Haven attack?

Ruby:We lived, up and up. Yeah you got stabbed but you know...that’s not new I’m sure.

Weiss:Yeah I have the scar and I’m still little pissed.

Ruby:Valid. Anyways, so my Atlas experience was different as hell. There was no formation of Remnants armies like Weiss spoke of or even between two kingdoms like Blake. Yang, what happened yours again exactly?

Yang:Nonsense. Cinder showed up with lackeies but not Salem’s lackies. Those people showed up separately, then Adam came back from wherever the hell he- a lot! A lot of people showed up for different reasons but also the same reason and to be frank, we all almost got shot by the military for being in bases that quote unquote, “didn’t exist.”

Ruby:Man I wish we traded. That at least sounds crazy enough to be fun. Just a rollercoaster in the dark basically. My experience was probably as hectic, but also way more streamlined. We showed up, and then all hell broke loose. Specially a mass grimm invasion lead by Cinder and her annoying associates. We were there for about three weeks updating General Ironwood and getting our barrings together when it happened. I wanna call it a hit and run tactic but it was clearly planned in advanced. Mechs were hacked again, traitors in the military, grimm lying in wait before hand; it was chaos! All for the relic.

Blake:Who was the maiden?

Ruby:Never met her. By the time we got there, Ironwood was panicking because she had vanished, taken right from under his nose. It was some young girl apparently, really young. The attack on Beacon looked like child’s play to this. Mantle got attacked, grimm were on the chains, they tried dropping Atlas to the ground; all a diversion for a relic. We all should’ve died, and yet, we didn’t. Winter and Weiss weeded out traitors, huntsman and military held the line, Yang bested Hazel with Nora, Qrow and I cut down Tyrian! Ren, Blake and Jaune helped the kingdoms while Ironwood struck down Watts. Nobody was in the mood to die that day. There wasn’t gonna be another Beacon. By all means, we were pissed. Even Raven showed up of all people.

Yang:What!?

Ruby:You can’t attack a kingdom without the world knowing. Especially when traitors leak info. Honestly she came for you though, or she never left to begin with. Couldn’t tell ya. Thanks to Maria I had a bit more handling with my eyes. That helped a lot. Without them and Os-

She stopped herself, choking on the words. The zest and excitement of recalling the heroic feats of her friends dimmed slightly with her smile. Her joyful smile became bittersweet like the memory.

Ruby:Then there was Oscar, the real warrior on that flamed filled night. That battle had to have been three days at least. We were so driven, and so tired. I was tired, but Cinder, Neo, and the others with her at the time weren’t; always showing up at the worst time. I managed to push Cinder back in a fight but grimm and others still swarmed. We were at a point that grimm very well might’ve did us in and the villains didn’t have to push any harder. But Oscar changed that. Hehe, what’s it about country folk that makes people like him and I not hesitate to grit our teeth? That dork looked at me, gave me the biggest smile on the the steps to Atlas, and then he left. His hair went white as he twirled the cane and then he left, forever. Oz came out, and he left nothing to the imagination. “Limited magic” my butt. He obliterated grimm and made a barrier aroma Atlas while everyone else cleared Mantle long enough for the world to send reinforcements. Salem didn’t get the relic, but she got the maiden and thousands of casualties. Oscar being one of them. Also, Whitley....he was in critical condition for a very long time.

Weiss:What do you mean...critical condition?

Ruby:Everything happened so fast Weiss. Panic was high, buildings fell....a piece on him. I wasn’t there but when I eventually found you, you were nearly hysterical and banged up. By some miracle he lived even though we could not reach him and he did not get aid for awhile. We thought him dead. It was only after everything we learned somebody got him. Being rich never paid off more than with medical bills. Thanks to youth and medicine he can still walk, but he can only do so much before being tired. He also left Atlas. The cold hurts.

Weiss:So, I run the company because he can’t?

Ruby:I wouldn’t put it that way, but it was one of dozens of reasons that made that goal stronger for you. Relax though, both of you get plenty of time to be witty siblings like I told you earlier.

Weiss:I know. It’s just, I guess it’s hard imagining Whitley hurt like that. I don’t think I could handle it.

Ruby:You definitely teetered in the moment. Knowing that happened though probably gave you anger and grit to fight the entire battle. You were a beast. Scarier than Winter. Anyways, that hollow victory was a real wake up call for the world. They didn’t know about Salem and we never told society in earnest. Cinder and other conspirators were enough to make Remnant work together to boost defense. Relief went to places that needed it and I, became the face of hope. Haven, Argus, Atlas, even people from Vale got to chattering of a particular group of people who always seemed to answer the call for help. Then the towns in between chattered. Yours truly had been carving a name in the history books and was only gain popularity the moment I stepped into Vacou, alone.

Blake:Alone!?

Weiss:What!?

Yang:Where were we!!!!!?

Ruby looked at surprised faces around the table, smiling tenderly. She looked down her dress and pulled out the cross she wore around her neck. Her thumb traced its edges as her mind began wandering down an old path paved with emotions raw to the core.

Ruby:I’ve always felt different. Not just because of my eyes but that there was just...a certain spark that never stopped going off for as long as I remember. There are plenty of people who can’t bare to watch others suffer, but there are fewer people I believe that truly feel the agony of other people’s pain. Beacon, Haven, Atlas, Argus; there was no place I went that I didn’t see the faces of others lamenting, and I didn’t make me want to grieve. Atlas took so much out of all of you and I just felt so....driven to stop that ache. For everyone’s sake, but mine as well. I wanted the world to finally get to the happy ending. Enough trauma had be sowed for a hundred lifetimes, so I went on ahead of everyone. I never doubted you all would follow but I wanted to get ahead of the curve and take on as much of the suffering I could do others wouldn’t. If the world wouldn’t give me a miracle than I’d be it myself for everyone else.

Yang:That’s suicidal! Salem wanted you specifically!

Ruby:It’s not like I went marching up to her door and said “1v1 bitch, I’m here” no, I just chose to move forward quicker than what we were all doing. Believe me, all of you were upset when you caught up, after I had already saved Vacou. *smiles* I really like that place. I told the people it was the next target and all they did was double down on pushing back. I managed to pin down the Summer maiden before the villains and thanks with the city on alert, there wasn’t a shift in the sand that didn’t go unnoticed. I got the jump on Mercury and Emerald, personally paying them back. Can’t say I didn’t enjoy it. It didn’t take long before they realized how screwed they were with them being outed like this and Cinder having the nerve to retreat before hand. Both of them threw in the total, outing the plan against Vacou. A wipeout of a win. Not to mention they told me the location Salem’s little hiding hole.

Weiss:We missed all of that?

Ruby:That’s what happens when I leave in the dead of night and running on adrenaline. Like I said before, people were tired. As much as all of you wanted to hoof it, other’s were relying on you. Atlas almost dropped for gods sake. Eventually when you all caught up it was at a good time. Soloing was rewarding but difficult. Fortunately Sun, Neptune, Ilia, and a few other familiar faces were close by if I needed an extra set of hands. My little stunt earned the anger of everyone for awhile.

WBY:Yeah no shit...the leader left.

Ruby:Yang was the most upset, followed by Uncle Qrow, and you Weiss. I was ready for the blowback. Jaune and Nora saw me though and bursted into tears. Hehe, wasn’t ready for that. Felt terrible and cried back. To prevent that stunt again, my Yang convinced Raven to link me. A couple days of apologizing and rest smoothed things over. It also gave time for just a few close friends and colleagues to get together for an assault on Salem’s castle. A few were apprehensive about it at first but at the end of the day I was going. That attitude was infectious apparently. You guys, actually everybody, they started getting this hunger to end it all. Maybe it was the high of victory? Regardless, it sent me racing to the end with those that I loved most.

Yang:You’re a real “my way or the highway” kind of Ruby. I don’t get how that explains what made you so...elite.

Ruby:I’m not sure what to say. A fight needed to to fought so I fought it. A cry for help was heard so I ran to it. A grimm needed slaying so I slayed it. People needed me to win so I didn’t dare think of losing. Dying was never option, even when it stared me right into my eyes. I had things I wanted to do and people I wanted see for years to come. I guess...I am strong because of the fact I want things my way. A moment I’m not giving it 110% is a moment wasted. After all, a huntress is all I ever wanted to be.

A single dream she wanted since birth. The never ending desire to be the hero in stories told to her many nights ago. That’s all it ever was. That’s all it’s ever been. Even in meadow of beautiful red roses, one would be the rose that captured the eyes of many, that bloomed stronger than the rest. As simple as it was, that had to be the answer here. Weiss, Yang, and Blake were in front of that flower. The Ruby Rose that simply bloomed stronger than the rest. The one that clung to her dream as if letting go meant dying itself. The devotion was inspiring, yet also overwhelming. If this was Ruby they had lead them that day in the Emerald Forest, could they have kept up? Could she be the leader they followed? No, they couldn’t have. Something deep down inside them gave them that answer. No matter how she looked and how much she loved, this Ruby Rose was cut from a cloth they simply weren’t off. The same as others, but oh so different.

Weiss:You’re....kinda a monster, you know that right?

Yang:Seriously, I’m so...floored. It’s intimidating.

Blake:Not to mention humbling. I used to think I gave it all I had. Now I’m not so sure.

Ruby:Oh don’t be like that you three! You’re all living proof there was more than way to go about life, this war! Everything you gave was enough because you’re done with it! Nobody failed. Besides, I...am far from ideal. The assault was challenging. Getting around hoards of grimm and making it to Salem was hell made real. Neo tried taking another shot at me but Yang held her off with help. Everyone pushed the obstacles in front of me out of the way as I went to Salem herself. Cinder had been abandoned by her and stripped of a lot of her powers. Angry and desperate, she tried killing me again as a way to prove worth. I beat her. However, I let her walk away.

Yang:What!? Why would-

Ruby:Naive, I was...naive okay? She was all spent and though I hated her, I just couldn’t. Not when I looked into her eyes and saw that same hunger I had to claw and scream at my dream until it was in my hands die inside her. We both knew from this point on there was absolutely nothing she could do where this ends her way. All she worked for turned burned to ash. So I gave her the choice to not burn up with it. Cinder swallow her pride and then fled. A part of me couldn’t help but rationalize killing her didn’t solve or justify any of my beliefs or desires. It would’ve done it because I hated her like she hated me. That was the dumb logic of a seventeen year old who never quite learned to take things slow.

Blake:....I don’t think it’s dumb. Naive for sure, but maybe that’s good? Even my Ruby, she never wanted to act on hate. She didn’t. Salem lives.

Weiss:Mine sent her soul to be at piece instead of passing a cruel judgment.

Yang:As a person who’s seen what you looked like with nothing but vengeance inside, I can say it doesn’t fit you. Before that day you had a warmth inside you to even foes that were somewhat admirable. You chose to leave Cinder’s fate up to those who had that hate and Salem was undone by her own doing at the very end. That’s what really makes you special Ruby. That’s why you’re called an honest soul. Good will is your nature.

Ruby:....Hmm, you sure know how to butter me up. *scratches head* I guess that part of me is uni-I mean multiversal. Strangely, that makes me feel better, to a degree.

Weiss:Do we even have to ask what happened to Salem at this point? I doubt the story ends with you loosing and having to retreat.

Ruby:Who’s to say it doesn’t? I could’ve been beaten to death before the gods themselves descended down to revive me with awesome power.

Yang:....Did you?

Ruby:Wh-No! Haha, I made her an immortal statue.

Blake:I-It was that easy?

Ruby:Well I wouldn’t call rushing into hell’s castle easy, or Salem. I lit her up at least a dozen times. My head pounded from each use, I was tossed around a bunch, magic is annoying, and not to mention running out of ammo. I left nothing to the imagination in that fight. If it were easy then I wouldn’t be rooting my horn and my age doing it. I was so tired I blacked out afterwards. I woke days later with a sore body and the title of “Remnant’s Savior.” Apparently beating Salem had weakened the grimm everywhere and all of you made sure who was to be thanked for it. That’s the tale of how I saved the world with my friends. Love, trust, elbow grease, and a lot of bullets. Before the final battle, Ozpin had struck a deal with everyone involved. In return for saving the world, he’d cut ties with us.

Yang:Seriously? What brought that about!?

Ruby:Good or not, he lied and was a schemer. Sure I was gonna try to save the world regardless of his interference but there wasn’t a person alive that didn’t to finally take a step towards the future after all this. All of us finally had time chase dreams and help the world the way we wanted to before all of this. Blake begin mending hate, Weiss took back her company, if Yang wasn’t with Blake then she was seeking more answers to Raven on wild adventures.

Yang:You mean Raven still left after all that!?

Ruby:In her defense, both of you made everything fucking awkward when she was around. It’s like you both wanted to talk about something but knew any subject was a land mine so you all you ever did was...stare, like weirdos. Glad that’s in the past. She just lives with dad now and you two now to hold a conversation. I dare not ask for more. I’d be a granny by the time I did.

Yang:Sigh...I don’t know what I expected. Shit it the fan several times and children were born before mom and I found solidarity and understanding. What did you do afterwards? Your goal was already met.

Ruby:Like hell it was! I started busting my butt traveling around the world, visiting every place to help in anyways I could. Ren and Nora tagged along for awhile before going off to make an orphanage in Anima near Ren’s old village. That left Jaune and I to do our hero thing.

Yang:As well as other things....

Ruby:Hey, what can I say? We were young and going up in the world. By the time I was nineteen, I was now a married to my partner and best friend.

Weiss:Uhhhh-

Ruby:He’s my partner on RNJR and you’re my BFF, gosh did I really need to explain that hehe?

Weiss:I just had to make sure. Crazier twists could happen.

Blake:Wow you married young. Not that there’s a problem but I’m surprised. Then again you also dated earlier than my Ruby. Hehe, weapons were on her brain for a long time.

Weiss:No kidding. When I learned about you crushing on my brother I was shocked to find out you liked anybody in general. Especially a person who isn’t a weapon nut in the slightest.

Ruby:*shrugs* All you’re telling me is I’m clearly the most impatient or impulsive Ruby you all know. Don’t know how that happened. Maybe I was dropped as a baby or had one too many coffees growing up?

Weiss:I’m willing to bet it’s both.

Ruby:Ruuuuude. So yeah, that’s...the story of how I saved the world and married Jaune. We even built a home just outside Vacou, overlooking the kingdom and neighboring town in the distance where Maria grew up. Yeah, that’s me....more or less. All the triumphant parts anyways. Anything later on is......

.......

Blake:R...Ruby? You okay?

Ruby:Nope, not really. *clenches cross*

Yang:......You know, I never really got religion, especially after learning the truth. It just seemed completely hollow when you learn of the real gods, ya know? However, I changed my tune a bit after being a parent and then some more when uncle Qrow died. It was never really about the truth behind if those other gods were real-

Ruby:It’s the piece of mind in believing in a better place for loved ones and having people watch over you. It’s truly based on blind faith in every sense but that’s okay as long as it gives peace of mind, to stay strong. Yeah....that’s why I wear this.

Yang:If that’s the “why” then I guess the unavoidable question is what happened?

The reaper leaned back in his chair, letting out a long sigh. Ruby brushed her hair out of her face while her face went pale. Then, Ruby’s eyes, her teammates watched a pair of stunning silver eyes dim, becoming akin to a clouded mirror.

Ruby:Being a huntress was all I wanted. The plan of having a family and settling down never appealed to me much. I feel, I felt like being in the field was where I was meant to be. It’s where I was most myself in a way. So the day I learned that I was pregnant was more than a little upsetting and terrifying, until dad and time itself filled me with the most genuine joy I may have ever experienced. Dustin Arc Rose, my first born son. He opened a door to a world and life I never knew I wanted to be apart of. Then...that door was shut minutes after, when Cinder and Neo stole him right from my arms. I couldn’t do a single thing about it other than blackout. That single act of good will I showed, it did nothing but kill me inside. The same way I did to her.

WB:.....

Yang:Ru-Ruby....your eyes.

Ruby:Hmm? Are they clouded? Funny, I would’ve thought your Ruby would’ve had a similar change. Maybe that’s a world exclusive thing, or a testament to the will you Ruby has to endure. Clouded eyes on a silver eyed warrior means the person has lost the desire or rather the mindset of persevering life. Be it their own life or wanting to end another’s life out of resentment, strife. My entire world fell apart when I woke up and learned nobody was able to retrieve Dustin. I was in pieces, Jaune was broken, nobody was the same. There wasn’t a soul we didn’t know that hadn’t tried to find a lead, but we never did. He was just...gone; and I couldn’t cope at all.

Weiss:I don’t think any mother could. Ruby, I’m so sorry that happened to you.

Ruby:I’m sorry too. I lashed out in anger, and shut people out. My eyes clouded and I dove into my work for a little over a year doing nothing but searching aimlessly as I took and every job back to back. The more time went by meant the more people eventually had to go back to their own, and it drove me up a wall inside. No one could reach me. I didn’t want anybody to. Not even Jaune. I....*teary eyed* I left him alone in house. There was no part of me that could even attempt to understand his pain because I was drowning in mine. I was told he tried his best to catch them at the hospital. I never hated him for not succeeding but I...he... I just, I can’t. I don’t know what I thought. All o knew was I didn’t even want him to touch me. How cruel is that? *hugging herself* I made him drown in despair in the same way I was. I wasn’t home so often that I never realized he eventually left it abandoned to live with dad. Yang and Blake I didn’t even show up to your wedding. Jaune did that much. Hell, Raven attended. Ruby Rose as a person didn’t exist any more. I was only a wandering huntress looking for answers or the challenge that might’ve ended me.

Blake:What changed?

Ruby:Oz, he did what nobody else dared to do. He fought me. I don’t think he thought twice about it. He was prepared to accept all the anger I kept inside until I eventually broke down into tears like I’m trying not to do right now. Thinking about that time is still, extremely difficult. Oz let me lament, encouraging me afterwards to finally except the fact Dustin was gone and that I needed to process it properly. First I went to you Yang, in order to have a my big sis to lean on. Can you guess how that went?

Yang:With me holding you tighter than I ever had before.

Ruby:*smiles gently* I don’t deserve you. You and Blake then came to patch with me where everyone else waited for me and helped me face Jaune. That may have been the hardest thing I’ve done. Grieving or not, the fact that I left him in such a state. I know what that does to people firsthand and yet I left. For the first time in over a year we embraced and finally grieved together. The next two years were spent trying to heal and cope. During my time away the world had fully acknowledged me. I even got a proper nickname, but it all felt hollow. Imagine that, achieving your dream but not caring? If that’s not salt in a wound then I don’t know what is.

Weiss:What’s your title?

Ruby:I am the person people want to see when evil comes to cut their story short. I am a symbol that their tale still has more to tell. Remnant has named me The Storyteller. Curtsey of Maria, who spread the name around. Healing was slow and most nights I felt a pain in my heart, but then everything changed. One moment made me dare to try again to open that shut door in my life. *looks at Yang* I held your son in my arms. Sweet little Kovu.

Blake:*smiles* Kovu? Now I wonder who named him?

Yang:*red* Huh...how about that? Hehehe, wish I could meet him. I know he isn’t technically mine but I can’t help but feel all warm now. Also I can’t believe I named him that!

Weiss:I can. Veronica’s middle name is Nala.

Yang:Okay, maybe not marrying Blake was a win? Clearly I can’t be trusted to not name my children after other cats.

Blake:The wrong kind of cat too. I’m a panther faunus, not a lion. Even if they’re blonde that’s still false advertising of what they are.

Ruby:Well Yang was the one giving birth so you lost a majority of the option to complain.

Blake:That is fair.

Weiss:You gave birth to Vee, so I think that solves who picked her first name.

Ruby rested her head in her propped up hands that rested on the table. She felt exhausted reliving that chapter of her life mentally. Still she managed to smile, then smile bigger. Her eyes unclouded and a warm feeling filling her again. What Ruby said earlier about what made her different may have reign true, but her friends could since that there was now more to it. Ruby had spiraled into an unimaginable tragedy, yet was able to bounce back thanks to loved ones. To smile as she does, it was truly a strong sight to see. Even if she wasn’t fully aware of that.

Ruby:Carmine Arc Rose, my second born and the first child to call me mommy. Followed many years later by itty bitty Garnet. He’s my little man, five years old while is big sis is seventeen now.

Yang:Damn! That’s a gap. Oh, also congratulations. Almost forgot that part. I’m glad you got to be the super awesome mom that-

Ruby:I am easily C-teir.

Yang:Oh come on! What!?

Ruby:Listen, I know I got on you all for calling yourselves bad parents, but I will hear no debate about me understand!? I flop a lot of times.

Weiss:That doesn’t make you a C-teir. That makes you a new mom, silly.

Ruby:*grumbling* I agree to disagree but thank you. It’s just a lot okay. Too much to dive into honestly.

Blake:Summarize. Give us an abbreviated version.

Ruby:Ummm so Carmine is real special kid. The absolute love I have for her is unbreakable but gods damnit if she isn’t the most... “me” I could be! In a way similar yet different from myself, Carmine has always had this sense of urgency in her and a love for the world around her. She recognizes that it’s a fragile piece we have and just how hard I’ve worked with everyone to make it. I could tell that from her when she was five. I’d sound crazy, but the fact she used her eyes at the age proves I’m not.

Yang:She has silver eyes!? Why didn’t you bring that up?

Ruby:I thought that was obvious. All of my kids were born with then. Unlike her baby brother though, Carmine was a weird little kid. She didn’t socialize well. Still doesn’t, she’s kinda comes off rude and cold because of her bluntness. She doesn’t really express all her feelings or understand others fully. One might call her a little cold but the passion she had to protect life itself is a testament to how much she cares. Carmine is also a genius fighter. To put in perspective, people use the same nickname for her that they used for Pyrrha.

WBY:Oh....

Ruby:Yeah! It’s not hyperbolic to say ever since Carmine is far beyond any skill I was at her age since she turned thirteen. You called me a monster earlier but no, I merely gave birth to a beast. I mean she could pass the huntsman exam at fifteen if I didn’t make her wait. I can’t call her arrogant, she talks with confidence because she has that right by all means. Still, besides her face, that’s where the similarities start separating; besides terrible grades in general stuff. We’ve never been in step completely. To put simply in her own words, “What I am is a hero, while she is a huntress.” That good will and mercy I try to give everyone isn’t how she rolls. It drives a real wedge that has resulted in us not going on missions together.

Blake:Is she...killing?

Ruby:She has before, and it had valid reasons entirely, but I also know for a fact she is more than capable of bringing down people without taking that step. Not all cases are that intense thank goodness. Her overall aggressiveness is the root of the problem. You don’t have to put you back into it when handling thugs. They aren’t Hazel.

Yang:Ooo okay, yeah I’m seeing what you mean now. It’s like that one comic you always read!

Ruby:Sigh...yeah she channels a bit of Batman energy and I need her to not do that all the time. I suppose being an honest soul isn’t particularly hereditary. It always feels like we aren’t enjoying each other’s company these days. I can’t blame her though. So....you know how all of you have had one serious problem that has both destabilized yourself as well as the kids and their relationship to you? *clouded eyes*

Weiss:Wait...you loosing a child wasn’t that?

Ruby:Oh it was. It just so happened that it never ended. It grew day by day. Night by night. Jaune and I were cautious with Carmine. Going as far to give her contacts and giving birth to her off the record and not at a hospital. Just in case Cinder came back. Well, Cinder and Neo came back, with my Dustin.

Nobody said anything. What do you even say to that!? All they did was let out a stifled breath and tried to gauge Ruby’s look of guilt.

Ruby:Yet again we had gotten too comfortable. It happened when Carmine was thirteen. I don’t think Garnet was even one yet. That’s when the cruelest realization hit me. My son had been alive and hearing about how his so called mother being a person who saves everyone, yet she never came for him. She had moved on, letting his eyes become clouded with such seething hate for the world she did save; the children she had after. It’s been four years since the day he attacked Carmine and helped grimm try to invade Vacou. To this day it’s been a life of staying on gaurd, searching for them as they popped up countless places to tear Remna- to tear me down and I can’t decide what part hurts the most. The amount of anger that prevents me from killing Cinder in a blink of an eye, or looking at my daughter who has told me herself that she is going to kill her older brother because I’m too weak to do so. That I’m in no way as good as the world believes me to be. *puts hood up* Like I said, C-teir mom, at best.

Blake:That’s- you can’t- there’s no way for you to reach him? Maybe if you-

Ruby:He looks at me the same way Neo and Cinder do, Blake. They raised him to hate me. Besides, he hurt Carmine. She’s just not gonna let that slide and frankly I shouldn’t either. Carmine acts tough and for the most part is, but gets terrified like everyone else. In many ways she’s still just a young girl that I wish had never chosen to become a huntress. If I had it my way she’d just be a normal girl with normal knees; but her mother’s weakness and inexperience wrapped her up in yet another war. It’s ironic. I barely remember mom and yet I ended up putting my family in very similar situation as if she lead instruction. Happy endings, I’m not sure if I get-

Yang:You’re better than mom....

Ruby:......

Yang:Yeah I said. Look I love Summer Rose but at the end of the day she wasn’t around, not that she didn’t want to be, but it’s the truth. Several years of pleasant childhood memories and a lifetime of grief is what she left me, and all you got were tales you should’ve experienced first hand. Ruby you have spent seventeen years loving your daughter unconditionally and being there for her no matter if it’s for better or worse. Yeah you might not being doing it perfectly and I have no idea how to even fathom your predicament, but at least you are there trying. Take it from me, that’s all a daughter ever wants from their mother. It’s also what makes a pretty kick ass dad. *smiles* Chin up, hero. Your story isn’t over yet after all.

Silence filled the air and Ruby’s throat ran dry. Ruby pulled out her scroll to go to her pictures and displayed one of her favorite photos for everyone to see. It was Carmine’s fifteenth birthday. Ruby didn’t lie about the resemblance. the girl had short blonde hair that stopped halfway down her neck in the back and was longer in the front, reaching shoulders. Like her mother, the tips of her hair transitioned to red. The beautiful young woman tried to her hide her smile but her gleeful silver eyes were practically twinkling with joy as Ruby hugged her tightly from behind and a tall, more solid version of Jaune was smushing one of Carmine’s cheeks with an overly dramatic kiss to it. A tiny child no older than three at most was in his big sister’s arms. Garnet had his mother’s hair and eyes but something about the chubby face definitely showed Jaune’s features. The child had red frosting on his face and was reaching eagerly for more cake somewhere out of frame.

Yang noticed the girl took page from her father and wore some regular cargo shorts, but clearly didn’t lack flair by wearing a red crop top that showed off a fresh tattoo of the Arc crest on her toroso. Knowing her sister, that tattoo was most likely practical. The family looked happy, proud; and the mother of it currently sat across the table crying with her head face down in her hands cwhile Weiss and Blake hugged her from each side. Roses may have thorns, anyone who knew roses knew a simple truth. They’re still fragile flowers.

Yang:(Carmine Arc Rose. For you and your mother’s sake, I hope things go well)

xxxx

Though Carmine seemed cold by nature, people were quick learn the opposite. The most recent learner of this was a scared little girl that held on for dear life. It was nighttime, nothing but the sound of pouring rain and the distant glow of red and the warmth of Carmine holding the girl against her body while she sprinted through a mud ridden forest. The little payed no attention to the pain in her side, but the glow of roses, eyes, and flames through her tear filled eyes.

Beowulves chased frantically but then severed immediately by something the girl couldn’t understand, but it looked like the person carrying her. The dead beasts brought no comfort. Not when more followed close behind.

Girl:I-I’m sc...scared!

Carmine:Don’t look at them sweetie, it’ll be fine. Just keep being a brave little girl.

Girl:M...Mommy was back there.

Carmine:.....I know, she’ll be just fine. Your village, there are plenty of people there that will be just fine! Huff..... You got a name?

Mary:Mary.....

Carmine:Oh that’s a beautiful name, Mary. You know I was almost a Mary? Yeah my grandma was a really amazing person and I almost got named something similar to her. Mary is a very strong name!

Mary:You’re a liar! I’m sad, not strong. I want my mommy! Everything his dark and hurts and I want her!

The girl began painfully crying as Carmine followed her trail of roses to avoid getting lost. Things were getting worse. The storm raged and she could feel this girl burning in her arms. Not to mention the unsettling warmth the mixed with the cold rain against her body and dripped to puddles below. Any grimm near by could only be dealt with by many copies of her nearby, but that would only go so far when fear was out full force. Carmine’s boots felt like cement, but she still ran.

Carmine:Mary, you know what do when I miss my mommy? I sing! Yeah, my mom sings the best lullabies that made me feel super strong when I was little! It’s a magic song that makes everyone strong. How about I sing it you and they can sing it your mommy later okay!? But you have to close your eyes to really focus on the words!

Mary:*sniffling* Okay....

Baby deathstalkers swarmed the path made ahead as small Nevermores dove at her. Out of options, Carmine broke from the path, trying to rely on memory to go towards the safe zone while also singing lyrics to her favorite song.

Dream of anything; I'll make it all come true.

Everything you need is all I'll have for you~

Carmine never wavered. No matter how badly her lungs her or nearly slipped, she kept singing all the way to her destination where several other clones were seen racing towards with more civilians to injured or young to go themselves. An orphanage where Nora and Ren stood outside rushing people in while Jaune was keeping the grimm at bay. The sight brought a little ease.

Don't worry, I've got you; nothing will ever harm you.

I'm close by, I'll stay here; through all things, I will be near~

Carmine finally reached Nora and passed off the girl who’s grip weakened overtime. A few lyrics in and Carmine knew she was singing mainly for herself.

Carmine:Get her medical attention! I’m gonna go and find more! There’s still-

Jaune:Wait, it’s too dangerous!

Carmine:I know! That’s why I have to go! That fire is spreading and there’s stragglers pinned down! Dad.....I’m pinned down!

Jaune tensed up and looked at Carmine. No scraps on her and her clothes only soiled by others. It didn’t take long to realize. The man resisted the urge to run out to the ruined town and stood firmly.

Jaune:Carmine...end it. We’ll worry about the consequences later.

Carmine:....Okay.

Across the woods amongst the flames the real Carmine stood bleeding and bruised in front of two Beringel that charged over the vanishing corpses of their fallen with more grimm, her sword stabbed into the ground supporting her weight. Behind all living people that remained finally managed to flee. All except for a woman trapped by house debris. The woman watched this young huntsman stand proudly again. She wasn’t sure what happened next. All she heard was one sentence.

“Close your eyes...” before everything went white. Next thing she knew, Carmine was lifting debris off her as rain and wind washed away any evidence. A relief she didn’t care about in the slightest. She neither had the strength, or the time too. Much like Carmine, who began to pant and teeter. It was clear to the woman that whatever just happened didn’t come without cost as she watched the girl fall to her knees. Though she tried moving, Carmine was spent.

Carmine:Don’t worry...we’re safe....let’s-

Woman:Go...

Carmine:Huh?

Woman:I...my legs. Everything...I can’t move. Just go. I d-don’t think I’d las-

Carmine:Don’t talk like that! The hard parts over! I can-

Woman:Barely walk. *smiles* It’s okay. I don’t blame you. You fought hard.

Carmine:.....I...I’m sorry. *teary eyed*

Woman:Say, I know that face anywhere. Your Lady Rose’s kid. Funny, I thought your eyes were red? My daughter, Mary, she loves your mother. Makes me kinda jealous hehe, but hey I love her too. *crying* Do you know if Mary made it? She was wearing-

Carmine:A black dress, pink ribbons in her hair...

Woman:Yes! Is she safe? I saw you- one of you carry her off.

Carmine:...She’s just fine.

Woman:Good. That’s all....that.....

The woman never finished her sentence. Carmine’s body fell limp on the ground, facing the rain. Even with the cold downpour she could feel the warmth of her own tears, containing her emotions best she could as she looked through her clones eyes to watch Nora take Mary away from the survivors and out of sight to not stir further panic.

Carmine wasn’t sure how long she layed there, but it was long enough for Jaune to find her. The man didn’t say a word. The town was in shambles. Grimm were still fading and his daughter looked tired, but not in serious condition. Unlike the those who didn’t make it. Jaune put Carmine in his arms, carrying her away to safety.

Carmine:......Does mom ever save them all?

Jaune:No, but that never stops her from trying; or mourning.

She clenched her father’s shirt and let herself be fragile, to be a Rose.

Carmine:Next time. Mom and I, we’ll both get it right next time. A happy ending for all!

Jaune:Yeah, I know you will. Together....

[contrabandhothead]

Hi! I have a request for Band of Brothers. How Easy company would treat the reader when this person is sick. I hope this works! I love everything you have written, thank you!

in sickness and health - band of brothers

- [ BUCK COMPTON ]

PANICS

this man smothers you with attention

he’s waiting on you hand and foot every single second of the day, and he does not care if he gets sick

he’s literally so sweet, even though he still tries to kiss you

like Buck, no, it’s probably contagious

holds your hand while you wait for the medic

tells the medic all of your symptoms for you while you sleep on his shoulder

he actually learned how to cook just so he could make you some food when you got the flu once

he tells you he needs you to get better so he can take you out on dates and spoil you Buck, we’re in the middle of a war

he acts like he doesn’t spoil you already

- [ CHUCK GRANT ]

will beat your ass if you’re not in bed

don’t even try to resist him taking care of you, he will not be having it

actually super soft as long as you don’t fight him about taking some time off the line

chews people out for being too loud while you’re trying to sleep

brings all of your meals to your room and eats with you, making sure you finish every part of your meal

LOTS OF CUDDLES

he’s quite careful not to get sick though

don’t ever try and deny that you’re sick, seriously

“fine? FINE? baby, i just saw you throw up.”

constantly checks your forehead to make sure you’re not burning up

- [ BILL GUARNERE ]

he has a lot of siblings, he knows what he’s doing

i feel like he’s less aggressive about it than some of the other men, but he’s gonna tell you you’re dumb for getting sick at least 2 times

he genuinely tries to be super sweet when you’re not feeling well, so give him a break

cooks you lots of his mom’s family recipes (how’d he find the ingredients?? we don’t know how, but he did)

you’re gonna eat every meal he makes you or you’re gonna get force-fed

carries you everywhere, even if you don’t ask him to

SO MUCH HAIR STROKING

he loves to pet your head until you fall asleep

expect lots of sleepy cuddles

definitely contracts whatever you had, so expect to get a whiny Bill that wants you to take care of him

- [ BABE HEFFRON ]

PANICS LIKE BUCK BUT EVEN WORSE

constantly has Roe checking on you, making sure that you’re getting better

will indeed rub your back while you throw up, and even hold your hair back if necessary

he’s constantly moping because he wants cuddles and kisses, but he knows he can’t have any until you’re not sick anymore

he’s surprisingly calm on the outside, but on the inside he’s panicking because he’s so worried

brings you tonssss of extra blankets that he collected from the other replacements

this man brings in the whole battalion to help you get better, he’s out here begging everyone for supplies

even though you’re sick, he’s still gonna hold your hand

sorry, but he needs at least a little affection

get ready to be absolutely smothered when you’re no longer sick

- [ JOE LIEBGOTT ]

he’s not as aggressive about it as he would be if you got hurt, but expect lots of teasing

he’s gonna call you a dumbass at least once, okay?

will NOT leave you alone for a single SECOND

he’s worried that you’re gonna start throwing up when he leaves the room and then choke to death on your own vomit

gives you all of his food, even if you don’t want it

don’t try and act like you’re not sick, he will yell at you (he’s not playing around)

gets so frustrated with you when you won’t take your medicine, so he has to have Roe give it to you

he doesn’t like being super soft in front of the guys, but if you have the chills, he will not hesitate to cuddle you

he’ll literally let you get away with ANYTHING if you’re sick

like i’m not even joking, he’d literally let you use his shirt as a tissue if you needed to

- [ CARWOOD LIPTON ]

SO SOFT

yells at the guys to be quiet so that you can get more sleep

if a trooper isn’t whispering while you’re trying to sleep, no one will ever find that man’s body

LOTSSS of forehead kisses

will not let you do anything

not even if you bring up the time that he got a pneumonia (he just glares at you until you yield)

he makes sure that everyone treats you with extra caution, especially if it’s hard for you to walk

he gets soooo worried if you have a coughing fit

he just panics whenever it happens while rubbing your back and offering you water

lets you burrow into his chest while you rest

- [ GEORGE LUZ ]

tries to make jokes so that he can help you feel better

i feel like George has absolutely no idea what the hell he’s doing

asks Roe a million questions about what he should do to help you

if this isn’t your first time being sick around him, then he’s already gonna have a set plan on how to help you get better

steals a lot of extra food for you, especially hershey bars

whines that he doesn’t get any kisses now that you’re sick

he thinks it’s his job to take care of you, so he feels really bad that there’s not much he can do

he does get supplies from replacements, but unlike Babe, he steals them

will kiss you regardless of if you’re contagious or not

now you have to take care of him while he whines and complains about how stuffy his nose is

- [ DONALD MALARKEY ]

so SOFT UGHHHHH

he takes over your duties as well as his own just so that you get enough time to recover

brings lots of blankets, the softest ones he could find in the whole entire town

holds your hand a lotttt

he spoons you (which is rare because Don Malarkey = little spoon) when your sleep schedules match up, and he buries his head between your shoulders

omg if you have something bad like a pneumonia he’s literally so scared that you might die

like you wake up to him sobbing into your back, and when you turn around he just tells you to go back to sleep

but you just pull his face close, and tell him you aren’t going anywhere and that you’ll never leave him

he feels a lot better after that, and he does his best when taking care of you

he’s literally so happy once you’ve fully recovered that he picks you up and twirls you around

- [ JOHNNY MARTIN ]

acts like he’s annoyed that you got sick, but he’s secretly very concerned

he makes some very passive aggressive comments at first, but once he realizes how awful you look, he feels really bad

starts treating you like a princess after that

he keeps you slightly isolated from the rest of the men, as he doesn’t want you to accidentally give them whatever you have

brings you anything you could ever need, you’ll never have to take a step out of bed

checking to make sure your fever is gone

he restrains himself from PDA during this time, so expect absolutely no kisses until you get better

he tells you that it’s your “punishment” for getting sick

if you tell him you’re sore or something aches, expect a massage

give him a kiss for all his efforts afterwards, you’ll see a rare smile cross his face

- [ SKIP MUCK ]

like George, he tells you jokes to help you get better

unlike George, however, he tells you shitty ones so that you’ll get better faster because absolutely no one wants to listen to them

not gonna lie to you, this little bastard is not very helpful

Malarkey and Penkala tell Roe about it once Skip finally realizes how bad your illness is getting

he feels really awful later on because he realizes if he told Eugene sooner then you wouldn’t be lying in bed, coughing your lungs out

spoils you after that because of how bad he feels

he won’t give you his own food, but he will steal extra meals for you

honestly he’s more mad that you’re sick than you are, he wants you to get better IMMEDIATELY

tells you about his day immediately after you’ve woken up from your nap

expect cuddles, kisses, hugs, and other physical affection he should not be giving you while you’re ill

- [ LEWIS NIXON ]

literally offers you alcohol at the beginning of your sickness

the man can’t even take care of himself, how the hell is he gonna take care of you

asks Winters a lot of questions, to the point where it’s basically Richard taking care of you

it’s fine, they come as a pair

lets you sleep in his office while he does whatever he has to do

gives you his most expensive blanket to keep warm

is actually very worried even though he puts on quite the humorous facade

he just wants you to be okay

he eventually calms down though, he knows a virus wont take you away from him

not even a war or an entire ocean could, so what’s the flu gonna do?

- [ FRANK PERCONTE ]

he probably thinks you’re sick because you forgot to brush your teeth ONE TIME after you were drunk

germaphobe to the MAX

sorry, but you’re not gonna see this man until you are in 100% healthy condition

he feels bad about it, but he doesn’t want whatever you have

he doesn’t believe Doc when he says it’s not contagious, which is stupid because Roe is literally a MEDIC-

i’m not even joking, this man will literally have Luz deliver you the hershey bars he wanted to give you

he’s basically quarantined you and there’s nothing you can do about it

everyone’s like: .... bruh... isn’t this a little too far???

but he’s just like: i have no idea what you’re talking about

it’s fine, he makes it up to you by literally smothering you once you’re all better

- [ SHIFTY POWERS ]

KING OF CODDLING

practically waits on you hand and foot for an entire week

blows on your soup to cool it down before feeding it to you

he’s scared you’re gonna burn your tongue, then you’ll be sick AND have a burnt tongue

lets you clutch on to his hand when your chills get worse

probably thinks you’re dying, which just makes him FREAK OUT

brushes your hair off your face when your fever is running high

always has a wet washcloth to place on your forehead

lets you burrow into his coat after your fever goes away

he rests his head on top of yours when you’re bundled up in his coat

- [ EUGENE ROE ]

HOVERS LIKE A GODDAMN MOTHER HEN

constantly taking your temperature, giving you more blankets, feeding you, making sure you stay hydrated, etc.

OH AND YOU BETTER STAY HYDRATED

throws a hissy fit that you got sick because he needs you to take better care of yourself

not extremely touchy because he doesn’t want to catch whatever you have, which is like actually painful for him

constantly giving you tea & other hot beverages to drink

spoon feeds you because he doesn’t want you to lift a single finger

will tie you to the bed to make sure that you rest

don’t test him, he’s serious about your speedy recovery

“mon amour, you need to rest or else i won’t be able to give you kisses”

- [ BULL RANDLEMAN ]

gentle giant

makes sure you’re eating lots of healthy food (or the healthiest you can get) & staying hydrated

does tasks like cleaning your bayonet and your gun so you can go to bed earlier

lots of forehead kisses when you wake up from sick naps

instructs all of the replacements on how to take care of you while he’s away

they’re actually very helpful and you treat them all like your kids

when Bull comes back and sees this, he thinks it’s adorable

but then he realizes that you’re sick and they might catch the same thing you have if they get to close

spends a lot of time shooing people out of your room

rubs your knuckles to lull you to sleep

- [ RONALD SPEIRS ]

oh god, he tries to act like it’s all good but he’s falling apart because you just look so fucking tired

SUPER SOFT with you

carries you to bed, even though you try to tell him you’re fine

steals a tonnnn of supplies for you, especially the finest quality cough drops he could find

whispers to you how much he cares about you when he thinks you’re asleep

spoiler alert: you’re not, but the stuff he says makes you feel so warm and fuzzy inside that you don’t want him to stop

thinks he has a superior immune system and that he won’t get sick, so it doesn’t matter if he kisses you or not

oh and he DEMANDS kisses even though you’re sick, he just can’t live without ‘em

he didn’t get sick, and you’re still bitter about it

he’s so doting, it’s the only time you’ll ever see him this soft

- [ FLOYD TALBERT ]

he’s so smug that you’re sick and he’s not

it’s genuinely annoying, but you get back at him by revoking his kisses because you’re sick

he is super bitter and will not talk to you for the first few days

around the third day, he’ll start to cave in, and he’ll be spending every waking moment at your side

it’s mostly him whining that you won’t give him any smooches, but he’s actually quite helpful when you ask him to get you things

finds only the BEST materials for his baby to get better

he will settle for nothing less

he has Trigger stay with you when he’s gone, just so that he knows you’re safe

when you’re finally better, he will not stop kissing you on the lips

the other men keep telling you two to get a room, but he genuinely does not care... he just tells them they’re all jealous

- [ JOE TOYE ]

the most surprisingly doting out of all the men

constantly asking you “are you okay? can i get you anything?”

will beat up anyone that tries to take your extra food or blankets

very wholesome, spoons you when you sleep

lots of neck and shoulder kisses because he cannot kiss you on the lips

constantly making sure you’re comfortable

not at all opposed to giving you piggyback rides so that you can get to places faster

plus, it’s a good opportunity for him to show off his muscles and strength to you

gives you all of his chocolate

kisses your nose because it’s red

- [ RICHARD WINTERS ]

tucks your blanket around you so that you are all cozy when you sleep

tries to dote on you as much as possible, but it’s very hard with his busy schedule sometimes

also lets you sleep in his office, you just have a big pile of blankets and pillows

no one else comes in there anyways so like... who cares?

does basic things that you don’t feel like doing (ex: brushing your hair) for you

assigns a paratrooper to look over you when he’s gone

it’s usually Tab, but sometimes it’s someone else

the only person he doesn’t assign is Nix, and that’s because Nix is a human train wreck

anyways, he wants lots of snuggles in your pile of blankets

i hate the way this turned out, but i’m not gonna beat myself up over it because i tried. i hope you liked this at least, sorry i’m a little slow with my requests right now. there’s a lot going on, but i’m trying my best. i should be posting a lot more in the next couple days! thank you for your patience and for your request 💕

[defensefilms]

Defense Films Lists His Favorite TV Characters Of All Time

5. Chris Partlow- The Wire

The ending of The Wire paints Chris Partlow as something closer to a serial killer. 

He wasn’t. None of his hits were done out of pleasure, curiosity or even impulse. Every one of those bodies helped the Stanfield organization become what they became, even the one on Michael’s stepdad.

What Chris represents is reliability and capability. The ultimate “get shit done” guy. Out of all the characters on the show, none were more dependable or crucial to the success of the institution they served. 

Lester Freeman was capable but not a good politician and ultimately a nuisance to his superiors. Bill Rawls was incredibly capable at his job but he was power hungry and ambitious. In season 5, Gus Haynes is the most capable man in the news office but the problem was that Gus questioned authority and didn’t “go with the flow” when the office decided the paper needed a “refreshing” of how they cover the local news.

Chris didn’t have any of these handicaps impeding the people he served.

He recruits the foot soldiers for the Stanfield crew, even training them himself and Marlo had something akin to a small army at his disposal as a result. He organized his sub-ordinates, handled all surveillance when Marlo’s crew was under investigation at the start of season 5 and took care of incoming shipments after they established a direct line to the Greeks. 

When the task required finesse or subtlety, like the time he stole Sergey’s picture from the court office, he was more than capable of that too. When Marlo is questioning how to address the murder of one of his dealers, he listens to Chris and chooses to retaliate on the perpetrator directly rather than targeting everyone on his corner. 

Marlo truly comes to rely on Chris in matters concerning Omar Little. Every step of how Marlo wants to get back at the near mythical larcenist, is first passed by Chris. Chris takes this as his number one job throughout the show. Anything concerning Omar is handled with brutal efficiency, tact and an almost out ouf place  sense of professional pride. 

That’s Chris’ most endearing quality. Through all the blood, guts, scheming, lying, betrayal that comprises Baltimore’s underworld, all of which Chris is very much a part of, he has a pride in how he approaches the day to day business aspects of what he does. 

Stringer Bell is arguably the best second-in-command in the show’s run but he was dishonest, ultimately harming the survival of the institution he served and damn near going rogue. 

Chris doesn’t share such qualities as blind ambition or selfishness. He understands that trust is all he has in this game. When the indictments eventually come down and Chris is facing a life sentence he doesn’t complain or even raise the possibility of turning state witness. Instead he ends up on the yard along side Wee-Bay. Marlo in turn makes sure that Chris’ people are taken care of financially.

Many of the men that serve in the various institutions depicted in the show could learn a thing from Chris Partlow. When the time came, he fell on his sword and did so in full acknowledgement that this is where it all leads. There’s a kind of honor in that.

4. Tony Soprano- The Sopranos

One of the biggest misconceptions about The Sopranos was that it was a story about a gangster. It wasn’t, or at the very least, that would be an over-simplification of what the story actually contained.

What it was was a story about a man and his family, both biological and criminal. That’s the tie the binds all of the story’s narratives together.

Another way of looking at Tony’s story is one of leadership. Having ousted his Uncle Junior from the seat of power, season 2 and onwards, as far Tony’s criminal life is concerned, focuses on what happens once you get to the top. 

While the show’s creators gave you plenty of grizzly, violent scenes, what leads to those is the story of a man struggling and failing at leadership. 

In every season, Tony has to deal with a problematic figure, employee or subordinate. 

Season 1 was his Uncle and the idea of old fashioned leadership. Then in season 2 it was the ever-acerbic Richie Aprile, representing a generation older than Tony’s, that still feels entitled to something. Seasons 3 and 4 gave us Ralph Cifaretto, the only one among the men I’m mentioning that actually earns his status and then in season 5, it was his cousin Tony Blundetto.

Each of these problems is uniquely stressful for Tony because of how they pull at the threads of both his family and criminal life. With the exception of his Uncle Junior, he kills all of them.

By that metric, Tony is in fact a very poor leader. 

He doesn’t really deal with the Richie Aprile problem because his sister beats him to it. He doesn’t willingly promote Ralph Cifaretto even though Ralph earns it and is the only one among the candidates with any real intellect and business savvy. In both the cases of Christopher Moltisanti and cousin Tony Blundetto, Tony allows favoritism and nepotism to cloud his judgement and ironically both those men die at Tony Soprano’s hands.

This paints a picture of a tyrannical man, slowly devouring everything around him because he’s got to be in control. Worse yet, his need to be in control doesn’t actually lead to smarter long term decisions or better people management.

Tony’s relationship with Ralph in particular is built on professional envy. He feels entitled to Ralph’s race horse winnings because “why should his subordinate benefit more from anything than he does?”. He then proceeds to take ownership of the racehorse itself without assuming any of the costs of owning the animal. Then to top it off, he steals Ralph’s girlfriend purely because he has the status to do it, even digging in to Ralph’s personal life in order to justify doing so.

Textbook mismanagement. Every type of managerial violation you could imagine.

So how does Tony handle it when an employee is actually being a problem on a criminal/business level?

He rewards Tony Blundetto’s deception after the Joey Peeps killing by letting him run an already profitable gambling joint. He promotes Christopher to “made guy” even with his drug problems being well known, and he promotes Bobby Baccalieri, partly at his sister’s behest and partly out of spite.

 It was fun to watch on screen but you’d hate to work for Tony Soprano.

How does that translate to his family? What kind of leader is Tony at home?

Season 3 does well at examining Tony as a father/paternal figure starting with his relationship with Jackie Jr, which is built on concern at first. Then later it starts to make Tony anxious. Before Tony decides to push nature towards taking it’s course, when Jackie runs afoul of men in Tony’s charge.

His relationship with AJ is also a bigger part of the show as the seasons go and it’s not much better in as far as the leadership or guidance that Tony offers. We can waffle on about AJ’s failings as a spoilt teenager but the real problem is that Tony doesn’t see himself in AJ. 

That’s the first step to any failure of leadership. An inability to find common ground or identify with the people you’re leading.

We won’t go in to how hypocritical it is because the entire way that Tony entered the mob life is because he himself was a mob prince and his father’s status definitely paved the way for him. 

Hypocrisy. That’s the other key to failure in leadership. 

All these negatives added up to make the most fascinating television character in over 20 years. A constant stream of contradictions and watching a man say one thing but do another was it’s own experience and you didn’t realize what a horrible human being you were watching until you saw the show over and over again. A scary observation that implies people are either blind or really comfortable with evil and narcissistic behaviour.

3. Noah Solloway- The Affair

Out of all the characters on this list, this one was hurt most by writers hitting a ceiling in how much they could say about the character or how much they wanted to say.  Divorced men don’t really have that much representation, so if you’re writing a character that so strongly linked to that one particular event in his life, you may hit a ceiling if you don’t actually have real life examples to work with.

They had the right actor, the right story and it was the right time in human history to tell this story, it just felt like they didn’t follow through on really speaking on the plight or rise of guys in Noah’s situation.

Anytime I watched The Affair, and unlike most, I was pretty loyal to it despite what reviews told me, I identified with Noah. All those other characters didn’t make sense to me the way Noah did.

The story begins with my man being stuck in a rut, the kind of middle age funk  married men tend to fall in to, so he drives out to visit some folks and while he’s there he happens to meet a baddie. Story of every man’s life. Only he does what you’re not supposed to do and sacrifices everything he has so he can be with the bad-bad. 

Then my mans starts popping off with his book writing, gets a publishing deal and in his 40′s, he starts achieving his highest career peaks. See this is important because it shows that the writers understood the subject matter really well, as well as the demographic they were talking about.

Then the next season, they go in to some murder mystery plot, Noah ends up in jail somehow, almost as if the writers and producers didn’t feel confident that they could tell Noah’s story without the theatrics/murder mystery element. 

The other danger that the writers probably didn’t want to indulge was rewarding the character with any kind of happy ending or positive outcome. Noah’s infidelity serves as the jumping off point to all of the story’s unfolding plots, mostly depicting the impact on the lives of his immediate family, a handful of which play out in sad dramatic fashion. So the writers likely felt like Noah couldn’t win at the end. 

In the 1930′s when gangster films were first being made, they would commonly feature PSA messages at the start warning against criminal behaviour. 1931′s “Little Caesar” starring Edward G Robinson, features a warning at the end that makes it clear the film’s producers and writers needed the character to go down in flames at the end, to prove the moral point that “crime doesn’t pay”. 

A writer’s moral obligation and the times in which they live can lead some to write the ending that makes a moral point rather than writing the most dramatic or honest ending. I think Noah Solloway kind of suffered from this.

I don’t know. 

There was a chance to explore modern men in a way that most stories fail to. They had the foundation. They knew enough about who and what they’re talking about. However it didn’t manifest in the telling of the story. 

I’m not saying Noah needed a positive ending, it’s just that the one we got was not the most fitting nor did it wind up ending the story honestly or even dramatically.

Noah Solloway should have got the Tony Soprano treatment in as far as how much the writers explored his inner world but instead the show’s creators decided it didn’t matter. They didn’t answer the question of why this happens to modern men.

If nothing else Noah Solloway can be a blueprint or foundation for those telling this story in the future.

 2. Ciro Di Marizio- Gomorrah

About as slimy and as low down as a television character can possibly be. Ciro represents Machiavellian criminality pushed to it’s extremes. 

When writers plot a character’s trajectory, they often fill it with moments that make the character more endearing. Exploring the relationship the character may have with a child, friend or spouse that makes you see the character’s more genuine/compassionate/likeable side. The writers of Gomorrah did plenty of that with Ciro.

However, they didn’t hesitate to show you just how off-the-rails and downright evil Ciro could be. 

What’s funny is that Ciro is defined by loyalty and servitude when the story begins. He is a capable captain and rises to 2nd in command when the Savastano family needs him to. However the death of his close friend and mentor changes him for the worse and he goes ham. 

What follows is betrayal and Ciro basically masterminding a coup of the Savastano clan but the levels of paranoia that his new found power push him to, make him question whether it was all worth it. The world burns around him and a kind of justice is restored when Gennaro is able to take back power and restore the Savastano name. 

That’s one aspect of the show that Ciro truly exemplifies in that he rises to the top but the throne never truly feels like it’s his.

He is Iago-like in his ability to understand the weaknesses of people around him. He proves himself more cunning, capable, strategic, murderous and even business-minded than almost every other character. Every character except for Pietro Savastano (the man he betrays) and Gennaro Savastano. 

The show goes to great lengths to put forth the idea that crime families in Naples are on the same level as the pope. True modern day monarchies. Royal families that have the power to benefit or harm anyone around them. People bow their heads to them when they walk in public and use reverential terms when addressing them. They will often have salons, jewelers  or restaurants cleared out so they can enjoy the establishment in ostentatious privacy. 

When you look at it like that, Ciro was always an outsider. The difference between just sitting on the throne and being born of the throne. 

In that way maybe Ciro’s story is about redemption. 

He eventually sides with Gennaro Savastano again, helping him get his wife and daughter back after they’re kidnapped. He does this by essentially lying to/duping a crew of young dealers from Florence to fund this hostage rescue and then he offers himself as a sacrifice when the Florentines demand blood.

At his best Ciro served the clan and went to great lengths to restore what he had destroyed. 

1. Marlo Stanfield- The Wire

Is there any greater?

Sure there are characters like Tony Soprano whose world and whose inner thoughts the audience gets more familiar and intimate with. Within the same shared universe as Marlo is a character like Stringer Bell and the writers of the Wire go to great lengths to understand and convey his moral conflict as a drug kingpin turned wannabe real estate tycoon. 

Marlo is something purer though. 

You don’t need to know his inner-most thoughts like Tony because his utmost desire is simple, he wants to be the top kingpin of Baltimore. What more do you want?

He does not share Stringer’s moral complexity because unlike Stringer he is not conflicted at all. He’s not a drug dealer playing businessman, he’s just a drug dealer and that’s all he ever wanted to be.

From the start of season 3, it was fascinating watching this man move about on the screen with a confidence reserved for the richest and most talented. Indeed Marlo proves he has both in bundles. 

He outwits the older drug kingpin in Stringer Bell by maintaining independence from the Co-Op. He matches Avon Barksdale’s war effort step-for-step after Avon comes home from prison. He outsmarts the wily, Proposition Joe in order to learn how to launder his money and then get access to the Greeks.

It was fascinating watching Marlo avoid pitfalls, monopolize Baltimore, out-think his older counterparts and grow his empire to the scope that he did. 

There’s a youtube video that compiled all of Marlo’s scenes from his 3 seasons on The Wire and it pretty much plays like a feature film. Watch it here if you dig Marlo as much as I do.

You’re not watching a drug dealer become a kingpin, or at the very least that’s what I believe. It has more to do with watching the younger generation upset the order, and in a lot of ways that’s what Marlo represents. From the moment Marlo shows up, all old agreements are null and void. He does this over and over again throughout his story. Constantly upsetting the order and establishing his own. 

Indeed Marlo isn’t aware that this is what he’s doing. He’s acting on ambition, arrogance and naivety. 

It speaks volumes that most of the characters on this list have on-screen relationships that explore their personalities, like the aforementioned Ciro’s relationship with his daughter. Marlo has none of that.

Marlo’s most revealing relationship is his rivalry with Omar Little, a man he only ever encounters once. The continuation of their feud happens because Marlo refuses to let any perceived slight towards him slide. One way of looking at what this shows is that Marlo is both egoist and perfectionist, the latter of which is actually very prized personality traits in today’s business environment. The combination of the two is actually commonly seen among CEO’s and top executives.

Marlo shows every weakness and drawback of youth while exposing the follies of the more seasoned and experienced in his field. A walking contradiction in that way.

[anistarrose]

Summary: Winters running the Mystery Shack are difficult, but two unexpected guests improve Stan’s day.

Characters: Stan Pines, Mabel Pines, Dipper Pines, Ford Pines

Relationships: Mabel Pines & Stan Pines, Dipper Pines & Stan Pines, Dipper Pines & Mabel Pines & Stan Pines

Happy Holidays, @halogalopaghost! I'm your Secret Santa, here to mash together a couple different prompts through the power of time travel (and Mabel)!

***

It doesn’t take Stan many years to learn that winter’s no good for the rural Oregon tourist business.

Granted, he can hardly blame the tourists — he has to drive on Gravity Falls roads himself, much to his disgust. Between the paved, plowed streets that always turn slick with ice where you least expect them, and the winding gravel roads that you might as well ignore when road and wilderness alike are under identical four-inch blankets of snow, he knows no gallery of fake haunted paintings or taxidermied coyote’s ass is worth the trip in these conditions.

He’s on his third winter in town, now — not counting the first, worst one he arrived at the tail end of — and if there’s a right way to run a business this time of year, he hasn’t found it yet. He always scrapes together just enough to pay his bills, thanks the occasional local who wanders over to purchase a seasonally appropriate if overpriced snow globe — but he’s lucky if he breaks even in December, and knows January through March are a lost cause before they begin. He’ll make it back within the next year, sometimes even before summer ends, but it stings to know he’s about to fail at his one goal for the next three to four months straight, and there’s nothing he can do to change it.

It might sting less if he had another way to spend these winters — if he had a good reason to formally close the Shack for a few months, like an experienced business owner making a grounded and responsible decision. But he can’t even search for Ford’s journals in this weather — he’s learned from his mistakes, his countless brushes with frostbite, throughout those cold, desperate months in the wake of the portal shutting down.

He’s useless right now, and worse, this season’s shaping up to be the bleakest yet. His usually-scammable neighbors have already lined their shelves with winter knicknacks from Mystery Shack visits past, and the bulk of Stan’s meager sales have come from shivering out-of-towners who’ve never tried to take a Pacific Northwest road trip in December before, and probably won’t be keen to try again.

What seasonal merchandise hasn’t he sold yet? Bumper stickers for miscellaneous holidays, maybe — but neither timely bumper stickers nor the usual selection of tchotchkes will convince people to visit the Shack in the first place, under these road conditions. He can’t even walk around selling merch door to door, for the same reason he can’t look for the other journals — he’d freeze to death, presuming he could make it through the snowdrifts to somewhere worth visiting in the first place. Even with snow chains on the Stanmobile’s tires and a bucket of salt in her trunk, grocery runs alone are perilous enough.

Damn it, Ford, he thinks, why couldn’t you have gone missing in Florida?

He could always do what he does best and lie, maybe — send out word that there’s free hot chocolate or something with every purchase at the Mystery Shack, and hope that people hand over their hard-earned cash before they pick up on the false advertising. He might draw in some local customers that way, and even if he loses their trust for the next few months, they always seem to forget about his cons eventually — as if he never scammed them, and they’ve never so much as heard the words caveat emptor.

He’s just about to dial the local paper’s number on the phone, hoping to flatter Toby into letting him run another ad for free, when he hears a telltale knock at the gift shop door. The bell atop that door doesn’t ring, which means that despite the hostile winds and snow they braved to get here, his visitors are still out loitering on the porch — or so Stan thinks for a moment, before it dawns on him that he doesn’t even remember unlocking the door this morning. He’d just been that pessimistic about even seeing a customer.

“Hello?” someone calls — a fairly young voice, probably approaching the tail end of puberty. “Are you there, uh…Mr. Mystery?”

“On my way!” Stan shouts, throwing on his fez and bolting for the door. His neighbors in Gravity Falls might forget and forgive a lot, but he doesn’t want to risk the wrath of a parent whose teenage kid froze to death on the local grifter’s doorstep, so he unlocks and flings open the door as fast as he can. “Welcome, travelers! Prepare to be baffled and bemused by our mind-boggling boreal mysteries, here at this last refuge at the edge of the Arctic we like to call the Cryptid Cabin!”

His visitor — no, his two visitors — both blink slowly, proving to at least be baffled, if nothing else. Both are bundled up in what Stan assumes to be several sheep worth of wool garments, lovingly knitted into sweaters, hats, and scarves.

“But you call this place the Mystery Shack,” the girl speaks up, and the boy nods.

“Yeah, and we’re nowhere near the Arctic! This is Oregon, not Alaska!”

Stan groans — the only customers he might see all week, and of course they’re teenagers. “Look, punks, business is slow these days! I’ve had a lot of time to think about a seasonal rebranding, and not a lot of chances to workshop it, alright?”

The teens’ expressions instantly soften, and the girl exclaims: “Well, you can workshop it with us!” She grabs the other kid — her brother? — by the hand, and pulls him into the gift shop.

Maybe Stan’s judged them too quickly — he’s still not thrilled to have strangers pitying him, of course, but he’ll take it over strangers mocking him any day of the week.

“Dang, you’re right,” the boy comments once inside, and face-to-face with shelves of untouched merchandise. “It really is empty in here in the winter.”

With little light coming in from the windows, and a flickering bulb overhead that will soon need replacing, the often-bustling room is now dim and eerie — aside from the junk food wrappers on the floor, which Stan hastily kicks under his desk.

“Look at all the lonely snowglobes in need of homes!” the girl pipes up, swiping a glass-encased antelabbit off the shelf and giving it a hearty shake. “Good thing I’m here to adopt this lucky little guy — how much is he?”

Stan takes a second to run the numbers — the maximum amount of money a teen would have on hand, versus what Stan needs to charge to make a profit — and replies: “Twenty-nine ninety-nine and nothing more. We don’t do sales tax here, ‘less you’re a cop.”

“Bet there’s a lot of other taxes you don’t do, either,” the boy snorts, rummaging through a shelf of hats until he unearths one with the old Murder Hut logo on it. “Aha! Now here’s a collector’s item!”

“Oh, did you come here before the rebrand and forget to grab a souvenir?” Stan asks. He doesn’t remember these two, but it’s been a couple years since he painted over the last Murder Hut sign — and they do seem pretty familiar with the building, not to mention Stan’s whole… business model.

“Oh, uh, that’s a funny story, actually! Real funny!” the boy stammers with a whole lot more trepidation than the topic should’ve warranted, and looks to his sister for help.

Sure enough, she steps in. “We lived here for a while — in Gravity Falls, I mean! Not here in the Shack, obviously — wouldn’t that be ridiculous, if we lived in your house for months without you knowing? Could you imagine —”

“That is to say, we still visit sometimes!” the boy supplies. His eyes are a whole lot more fixated on the snowglobes than with anything in Stan’s general direction. “You probably don’t remember us — we weren’t in town for very long, or anything…”

Stan sighs. They’re lying, obviously — but hey, there’s no cops in the Mystery Shack, and he doesn’t have a dog in whatever fight compelled the duo to spew this bullshit. He’ll keep an eye on the cash register, of course, but these kids are tolerable company when they’re not being suspicious as hell — so if they want to invent a bad cover story for a low-stakes tourist trap visit, more power to them.

“Well, the hat’s vintage, so that’ll be double price. Twenty bucks,” he announces matter-of-factly, and the boy groans — but there’s a smile behind it, like he’d expected this and now he’s just playing along. If there’s one thing Stan’s willing to believe, it’s that these kids have been to the Mystery Shack before.

“You’re a highway robber, old man, and I’m the coward who’s gonna let you get away with it,” the boy declares, and Stan can’t help but laugh. The kid reaches under several layers of sweaters to pull out a wallet, with a blue pine tree embroidered on, and miscellaneous charms of fantasy characters hanging off a chain on the side. Stan doesn’t recognize any of them, but they still tug at his heartstrings, because he can tell they’re the exact kind of nerdy references Ford would love.

He does take note of the pine tree design, though — it’s generic enough that slapping it on some shirts and hats wouldn’t quite be plagiarism, and in Stan’s eyes, those are always the best souvenir designs.

The kids put their money forward, hovering awkwardly as Stan rings up their items — the girl busies herself attacking a loose string on her brother’s scarf, nimble fingers tying it back in its approximate place, while the boy twiddles his thumbs and stares at the snowy, gray scene out the window. At the moment, only light flurries fill the air, but tomorrow night promises a blizzard… and Stan, grump with a soft side that he is, can’t help but hope that if these kids are really on vacation, then they aren’t planning to drive anywhere tonight.

With it being winter, and him running the business that he does, he doesn’t have much charity to give — but, if he’s going to play along with his customers’ little lie, then he should probably at least bring up the topic.

“You’re not hittin’ the road any time soon, are you?” He makes eye contact only with the green illustrated presidents in his hands, so not to come across as overly invested. “Weather forecast says tonight’s gonna be a doozy.”

“Aww, you’re worried about us?” the girl coos, because apparently both parties here are damn good at picking up on each other’s lies. “That’s so sweet — but you don’t have to be! Our great uncle’s waiting for us in town, and he’ll… well, let’s just say he’s planning to bring us back home before the blizzard hits.”

“He’s, uh — he lived here back in the seventies, so he knows what he’s doing,” the boy adds. “On the roads, that is. Mostly.”

“Well, you two take care,” Stan tells them, hastily adding on: “So you can come back when the weather isn’t terrible and buy more keychains, that is.”

“Oh, we will.” The boy grins, sharing a conspiratorial glance with his sister. “Maybe don’t count on it being next year — or the year after that, even — but you can count on it.”

“Well, uh…” Stan stops himself, resisting the impulse to divulge things he really shouldn’t. “You just shouldn’t count on me running this place forever. Be sure to get your novelty cryptid pins while they’re hot, y’know.”

He’s never really wondered what he’ll do with the Shack when he gets Ford back — and yes, he has to believe that statement deserves a when, not an if — but he figures the Shack’s fate will depend more on Ford’s own whims. If reality lands somewhere between the nightmares of Ford wanting him gone and the fantasies of finally sailing around the world, if Ford doesn’t hate him but still wants to spend more time with Important Science Experiments than with his brother, then Stan could see himself returning to a mediocre life in his moderately successful tourist trap… but with the search for the journals still coming up empty, Stan can only try not to think about the future, and accept that he’ll just cross — or burn — that bridge when he comes to it.

“Okay, Mr. Mystery,” the girl suddenly declares with a tone that frankly reminds Stan of his mother, “you look like you could use a pick-me-up!”

“What?” It’s starting to freak Stan out how well she can read him, and there’s no telling whether it’s just a sharp intuition, or something significantly more Gravity Falls-y. “If I look tired, kid, it’s because it’s December in Oregon, I haven’t seen the sun in a week, and I am tired. Only pick-me-up I need is for you to get out of my hair, and let me go back into hibernation like nature intended.”

“Okay, but counterpoint: you hear us out,” the boy insists. “We’ve got a little something up our sleeve to really light up your winter —” He winks at his sister. “Don’t we?”

“You bet we do!” She pulls a bag of marshmallows out of not her sleeve, but her backpack, and grins. “Prepare to be amazed and astounded by the natural wonders of this town, and also the miracle that is processed sugar and gelatin!”

“Are you imitating my sales pitches?” Stan asks, dumbfounded. “And do you carry those on you at all times?”

“In winter in Gravity Falls, I do!” the girl replies, already heading for the exit with her brother. “C’mon! If this doesn’t put a smile on your face, nothing will!”

“We all know you’ve got time to spare, Stan,” the boy adds, cracking open the door. “Get a move on!”

“Spare time doesn’t mean I’ve got spare limbs to lose to frostbite,” Stan grumbles, but follows them anyway. There’s something captivating about these little punks — not so much this mysterious phenomenon they’re trying to sell him on, as if they could really out-charlatan Mr. Mystery himself, but rather the way they’re not put off by his frigid facade. They see right through him, showering him in alternating kindness and acerbic wit.

Stan can’t help but wonder if their uncle’s kind of like him — tired, bitter, and pretending to be indifferent, but secretly soft on the inside, like a marshmallow that’s burnt on the surface but melted within. It would explain why they’re so good at calling him on his shit — but then again, Stan and this mystery guy can’t be too alike, because if Stan had a niece and nephew like these two, he’s sure he’d be living his life a whole lot differently.

He exits the Shack, and all his questions are immediately replaced with new ones when he sees the teens just hurling marshmallows towards the edge of the woods. The wind’s in their favor, so some of those sugary little fuckers fly far.

“Okay, so I’ve already got a couple concerns,” Stan tells them, shivering. “First off, what the hell?”

“It might take a couple minutes before one shows up,” the girl admits, as if it’s a totally reasonable stand-alone explanation for whatever the hell’s going on here. With about a third of the marshmallows now blending into the snow on Stan’s lawn, she and her brother stop with the throwing, though they still hold onto the bag. “Our grunkle theorized that they move slower in winter, to save energy — oh wait, never mind! Here comes one now!”

“Sorry, what? And where?” Stan squints out into the woods, terrified to lay his eyes upon a woodland monster these kids just lured to his doorstep — but all he sees, at first, are a few wisps of smoke dispersing in the wind above the trees. He’s not even convinced it’s smoke, really, because these aren’t the right conditions for a fire — but to his surprise, he glimpses an orange light within the woods, glowing steadily brighter until the trees and bushes around it are all casting faint shadows.

When it steps into the clearing, Stan realizes he has seen something like it before, albeit only from the overcautious distance he tries to keep from all anomalies. It’s an otherwise normal campfire perched on wooden, spiderlike legs, and it melts a path in the snow as it trots forwards, then lowers itself to the ground to absorb the first of a dozen marshmallows.

It lets out a satisfied little sound — a low, steady crackle that sounds almost like a purr — then scampers up to the next morsel of food to repeat the process.

“It’s called a Scampfire!” the girl explains, beaming. “There’s a bunch of them out in the woods, and they’ll always wander over if you leave out enough campfire food — especially sugary stuff! Isn’t that cute?”

“Our great uncle figured out this amazing trick when he used to live here, and he passed it down to us!” the boy adds, practically bouncing up and down in place. “If you leave them a trail of food, they’ll follow you around until you run out — which means they can clear your driveway, warm your hands, even save your car if you drive into a snowbank! Or help you make s’mores, of course.”

“Our grunkle says he even skipped paying his heating bill a couple winters,” the girl adds with a grin, “but I dunno if we can recommend that in good conscience.”

As the scampfire draws a closer, continuing to purr as it consumes more of the sugary trail, the boy slaps a handful of marshmallows into Stan’s palm. “Give it a try!”

Stan’s not thrilled about bringing a fire onto the wooden porch attached to his wooden house, even as cute as said fire is, so instead he tosses his ammunition at something much more disposable — the golf cart, since if this one croaks, he can always just steal another from the insufferable rich family up on the hill. His aim isn’t great — he blames his cold fingers — but exactly one marshmallow lands right in the cart’s driver seat.

The scampfire breaks course from its path towards the Shack, clearing a path through the snow before it crawls into the cart, absorbing the final morsel and curling up atop crossed legs. Nothing explodes, and in fact, a few of the icicles on the awning start to melt, dripping water into the patch of bare muddy ground surrounding the cart.

“Huh,” Stan mutters. Dozens of harebrained schemes flash before his eyes — if he could find a slingshot, or even better, some kind of cannon to mount on the cart’s front hood, then he’s sure that with practice, he could entice some scampfires to clear a path through any snowdrift…

But no matter his exact solution, it’s a way to get into town consistently. He can finally go door-to-door selling knickknacks, instead of sitting in the gift shop every day and hoping some poor soul would get bored enough to brave the roads and visit. He can actually work out a way to line his pockets even in the winter, instead of constantly waking up from nightmares about getting foreclosed on —

“See? They get food, and we don’t freeze — classic mutualistic symbiotic relationship!” the boy declares, and his sister gently socks him in the arm.

“Nerd!”

“Hey, you knew that too! We’re in the same biology class!”

It’s familiar, but the kind of familiarity that Stan doesn’t treasure anymore. It’s more like the kind that he hides in the basement or in boarded-up rooms whenever he can, and grins and bears with a heavy heart when he can’t, like every time he looks in the mirror or hears someone call him Stanford. He comes so close to asking these teens if they’re twins, because he figures the answer can’t be worse than wondering — but the question dies in his throat, and he tells himself it’s for the best.

“Is your uncle who invented this trick the same one who’s waiting in town for you?” he asks instead.

“Yep!” replies the girl. “He probably won’t get worried about us for like, ten or fifteen more minutes, though — I’m sure he’s got his nose buried deep in a book right now.”

“Do me a favor and let him know he’s a lifesaver,” Stan says. “Also tell him I’m glad he moved out, because he sounds a little too smart to fall for the fake monster wares that I peddle.”

The kids exchange a look that Stan can’t even hope to comprehend, though he’s damn sure it’s worth a thousand words to the two of them. Twins or not, he’s getting an “inseparable” kind of vibe from these two, that’s for sure.

“I’m not sure he’d like the Shack at first,” the brother muses, “but I’ve got a hunch it would grow on him.”

“He does like cryptids — sometimes even fake ones!” the sister chimes in. “Oh, shoot — we still need to grab a souvenir for him! I knew we were forgetting something!”

“Huh.” Stan throws a few more marshmallows in the direction of the woods, and the scampfire stumbles off the cart before trotting along on its merry way back to the forest. “I can get you something, no problem — I don’t call this place a gift shop for nothing, y’know. But for the love of Paul Bunyan, let’s talk about it inside.”

He’s not great at mental math, but he doesn’t have to be to know he owes a lot to these teens and the mysterious uncle he might never meet. Hell, even forgetting the business perspective — he can actually look for the journals in winter without risking frostbite, if he gets one of his fiery neighbors to tag along. Even if he finds nothing, even if he only winds up with more failures to contend with, he’d rather rule out locations than be useless to Ford for months at a time.

None of this weird family that he might never see again, these three benevolent strangers that he can only put two faces to, could possibly know how much they’ve just changed for him — and he can’t tell them, as much as his oversized heart promises he can trust these snarky kids who remind him so much of himself. But he does owe them, so when he reenters the gift shop, he goes straight for a seldom-opened and never-advertised box of knickknacks that he has no intention of charging them for. It’s got the dimensions of only about two side-by-side shoeboxes, so he lifts it onto the counter with hardly a grunt, and opens it up.

“Got lots of goodies in here — mostly stuff that I made or, ahem, acquired in bulk, so they never quite sold out by the time everyone and their mother in town had already bought their own. Take a gander.”

He knows that gander will reveal some Murder Hut-branded shirts with the words written on in marker, plastic six-sided dice with a different cryptids pictured on each side, cheap whistles purported to attract Bigfoot, cheap flashlights once advertised for attracting Mothman, exactly three cool rocks that Stan found in the woods… and the pièce de résistance, a little wooden Mystery Shack-shaped music box, which chirps out a pleasant tune when Stan flips up the roof. That last one’s a rare knickknack that Stan really put effort into personally crafting, back at the height of last winter’s monotony, through cannibalizing parts of premade music boxes and sticking them into brand-new shapes — but he couldn’t sell them for enough to be worth the cost of making more, and could never sell this last one at all.

“Oh, wow!” the girl gasps, clearly delighted. “How can I even choose between —”

“No, take it all. It’s on the house — but don’t you dare tell anyone about this, you hear me? I’ll know if you blab, ‘cause people will start asking me if they can get free crap, too, and I don’t wanna hear a word of that nonsense.”

“Free stuff at the Mystery Shack?” The boy narrows his eyes. “Are you feeling okay, old man?”

“Kid, stuff only goes in the Free Bullshit Box when I can’t sell it anyway.” Stan crosses his arms with a huff, even though he’s technically telling the truth. “The only catch is take it before I change my mind.”

A sudden spark of recognition in the brother’s eyes morphs into a grin on his face, and he nods. “Oh, we will. Don’t worry.”

“I think our grunkle will love this! Especially the dice,” the sister adds. “Hey, maybe we could give all this to him piece by piece for Hanukkah! There’s enough here for a new surprise every night!”

“Whoa, there is! Man, the look on his face the first time we bring out a Bigfoot whistle is gonna be great —” The boys eyes dart to the watch on his wrist, and he coughs into his hand. “But we should probably get a move on, huh? Don’t want to get caught in, y’know, the blizzard tonight.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Stan returns the lid and hands the box over. “You, uh, need a ride back to town? ‘Cause being a man of mystery and all, I know this neat trick to clear a whole road with just a bag full of marshmallows —”

The kids both start cackling, so hard that the box almost escapes the girl’s hands, and Stan laughs with them — not because he thought his joke was that funny, but because the kids’ laughter is absolutely priceless. The isolation’s definitely getting to his head and his heart, but he’ll take whatever reprieve he can get.

“I think we’ll manage on our own,” the boy finally wheezes out, “but thanks for the offer, Mr. Mystery. Thanks for everything, really.”

“See you later!” his sister adds as they leave. “Don’t let the feral gnomes bite!”

“You take care, too,” Stan replies, not nearly as loud — but he figures that the kids can read his lips. They can read so much about him, and know so much about the town, that he’s honestly a hair’s breadth away from assuming they’re two more anomalies from the woods themselves, just in more recognizable shapes than most…

Though if Stan’s honestly considering that theory, then more of Ford must’ve rubbed off on him than he likes to think about — which is to say, it’s a good a reason as any to stop thinking about it. What or whoever they were, the duo were actually pretty tolerable for teenagers, and Stan’s pretty sure they didn’t put a curse or whatever magic mumbo jumbo on him — because if they could manage that, they could definitely tell some less conspicuous lies, right?

He kinda likes the idea of one goddamn supernatural force in this town that’s actually benevolent, actually watching his back when his mood’s at its bleakest, and coming to his rescue with — no, he’s dropping that train of thought. No baseless hoping, just letting himself down easy before he gets up.

It does occur to him, several minutes after the gift shop door swings closed, that Hanukkah has already come and gone this year. Which probably just means the kids are prepared to hide that box for another twelve months… but maybe, when Stan finds the other journals, he’ll double-check for entries on helpful teenage cryptids who can’t lie. Just to be sure.

***

Mabel, Dipper, and Ford barrel into the living room so suddenly that Stan almost drops his mug of hot chocolate. They’re all covered in a ridiculous amount of snow, considering how briefly they were just outside, and Ford looks awfully delighted for someone whose glasses are someone whose glasses have just turned opaque with fog.

“Grunkle Stan!” Mabel shouts. The cardboard box in her arms has seen better days, but she’s cradling it like an infant. “You’ll never guess when we just were!”

Dipper points a gloved finger in the air. “You mean, when we just — oh wait, did you already —”

“Yeah, I beat you to it this time!” Mabel pumps her fist. “Anyways, Grunkle Stan — you’ll never guess who we just visited!”

[giftofshewbread]

Gone            (Prophecy Update)

 By Daymond Duck    Published on: September 26, 2021

After Moses died, Joshua became the leader of the Jewish people. Joshua led them across the Jordan River, took them to a place called Shiloh, and gave Shiloh to the largest and most powerful tribe called Ephraim. The Jews erected a Tabernacle there, priests served there, offered sacrifices there, felt God’s presence there, and it was a special place to God for more than 300 years. But the Jews eventually abandoned God, started worshipping a false God, angered God, stirred His wrath, and He destroyed Shiloh (Psa. 78:56-67).

Those that think that God won’t destroy a nation should go and look at Shiloh (Jer. 7:12).

Those that think that God won’t destroy a city should go and look at Sodom and Gomorrah.

On Sept. 16, 2021, several members of the media reported on an interview that former White House Press Sec. Sean Spicer had with former Pres. Trump.

Trump said, “Our country has gone really downhill in the last eight months like nobody’s ever seen before. And we’re not going to have a country left in three years; I’ll tell you that.”

Is Biden really the end of America?

Will America’s Deep State and the global Deep State succeed in bringing about the demise of America before 2024 and the establishment of a godless world government and religion by 2030 or sooner?

Perhaps, it is time for the Lukewarm Laodicean churches and those that think that God won’t destroy a godless world government and religion to go and look at the tower of Babel.

Without God, America is gone.

Consider the following:

Vice Pres. Harris was part of a group that raised funds to bail rioters, looters, and arsonists out of jail, and one has now committed murder.

The Biden administration knows that human traffickers, drug dealers, terrorists, and people infected with Covid are crossing the U.S. border with Mexico, but they are ignoring it or, in some cases, assisting it.

Biden said he would not leave American citizens in Afghanistan, but he has left hundreds there.

Biden let Taliban terrorists have up to 80 billion dollars of U.S. weapons.

The FBI destroyed Hillary’s cell phones for her.

Biden lied about his knowledge of Hunter Biden’s alleged crimes (he boasted about threatening the Pres. of Ukraine if he didn’t fire the man investigating Hunter; e-mails on Hunter’s laptop have been confirmed to be legitimate), but that is okay with the Democrat Party, and the FBI and DOJ have done nothing.

Pelosi, Schumer, and the Democrats impeached Trump over something he didn’t say in a phone call to Russia, but they are ignoring Gen. Milley’s treasonous calls to China, even though he could have endangered the security of the U.S.

Biden has been warned that too much spending can collapse the U.S. economy, but he continues to propose multi-trillion-dollar stimulus packages.

The U.S. Supreme Court has ruled that mandated vaccinations are unconstitutional, but Biden is trying to force people to get one.

The Biden administration is trying to force average citizens to get vaccinated, but he has exempted Congress, their aides, the DOJ, the U.S. Supreme Court, and postal workers.

Fauci lied to Congress about funding Covid research in Wuhan, China, but the Biden administration supports him.

The above list shows that the America most of us grew up in is already gone, but there is no need to worry because the Church will soon be gone (Raptured) too.

FYI: Trump’s slogan was “Make America Great Again” (Strengthen America don’t weaken it). Biden’s slogan was “Build Back Better” (Get rid of the old America and build it back with a different America. That is what he is doing). Obama called it “The Fundamental Transformation of America”).

This writer believes the length of the above list could easily be doubled, but readers will get the point, and there are other things that need to be mentioned.

One, concerning the decline of the U.S. and the establishment of the Ten Kings: on Sept. 20, 2021, it was reported that the Community of Latin American and Caribbean States (CELAC) met to discuss weakened ties to the U.S. and the restructuring of CELAC into a block of nations patterned after the E.U.

Ten groups of nations patterned after the E.U. with a leader over each group (Ten leaders or Ten Kings) that would eventually cede their power to one leader has been a globalist goal for many years.

Also concerning the decline of the U.S.: Biden’s surrender to the Taliban in Afghanistan has triggered calls for the E.U. to establish a military that does not have ties to NATO.

Also concerning the decline of the U.S.: France has recalled its ambassador to the U.S. for the first time in history over a deal the U.S. and U.K. made to provide Australia with the technology to build submarines.

Two, concerning world government: the globalists have weakened America, and now China wants to replace America, take over the New World Order (NWO) and dominate it, not submit to it.

The globalists are just as much against China dominating their New World Order as they were against America dominating it.

George Soros and some of his globalist buddies are now getting worried about the growing power of China. They are even trying to cut off investments in China to weaken China like they weakened the U.S.

According to the Bible, the E.U. will be the main power in the coming world government, not China.

Expect China to resist and invade the Middle East as one of the Kings of the East, but don’t expect China to defeat the Antichrist and head up the coming world government.

Three, concerning the Mark of the Beast: it will be a global mandate to identify and track everyone on earth, and it will go into effect at the middle of the Tribulation Period.

There is good reason to believe that Covid-19 vaccine certificates are on the way to becoming a global mandate to identify and track people.

On Sept. 15, 2021, it was reported that 35-40 nations (Israel, the E.U., and other nations that want to join) will have a digital system in place by early October to identify and track those that have been vaccinated and those that have had Covid-19 and recovered. Those that get an approved certificate will be allowed to travel, enter restaurants and other venues, but those that don’t get one will not be allowed to do these things.

Four, concerning Israel and Jerusalem: America’s Deep State has manipulated Pres. Biden into many mistakes since putting him into office.

It seems that God is willing to let America’s Deep State and Biden weaken America because He said He will allow them to establish a godless world government and religion for seven years.

But now, these godless people appear to be preparing to weaken Israel by reopening America’s special consulate for the P.A. in Jerusalem and canceling America’s recognition of Jerusalem as the undivided capital of Israel.

God will allow them to do this for three reasons:

He is letting Israel learn to trust Him and not the nations.

He is letting the nations choose their own judgment (what they try to do to Israel will come back on them; Zech. 12:3).

He is letting the world know that He is God, He restored Israel, and Israel cannot be destroyed (Amos 9:11-15).

FYI: America’s Deep State apparently does not know, believe, or understand the story about Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego in the fiery furnace (a type of Israel in the Tribulation Period). One like the Son of God delivered them out of it (Dan. 3:25), and all Israel, all that believe in Yeshua, will be saved in the wilderness (Matt. 25:16-22) by a Deliverer out of Zion (Rom. 11:26).

Five, in May of this year, terrorists in Gaza fired more than 4,000 rockets into Israel, but many were shot down by Israel’s anti-missile Iron Dome System.

Israel needs to replace and boost her stock of Iron Dome missiles.

In June of this year, U.S. Sec. of State Lloyd Austin told Israel’s Defense Min. Benny Gantz that the U.S. plans to replace Israel’s Iron Dome missiles. On Aug. 27, Pres. Biden met with Israeli Prime Min. Bennett and said the U.S. will replace Israel’s Iron Dome missiles. Nancy Pelosi recently put $1 billion to replace Israel’s Iron Dome missiles in a bill to raise the U.S. debt ceiling, but the Squad and other leftist Democrats strongly objected to spending money on the defense of Israel. Pelosi removed the money but promised to put it in a later bill.

The Biden administration has made many mistakes (Afghanistan, border with Mexico, etc.), but nothing could be as bad as abandoning its promises to defend Israel.

Six, concerning the division of Israel and the Battle of Armageddon: on Sept. 21, 2021, Pres. Biden repeated his support for the Two-State solution in a speech at the U.N. (but he did say it will be a long time before it happens).

Seven, concerning wickedness and corruption at the end of the age: on Sept. 16, 2021, Special Counsel John Durham got an indictment against a Democrat lawyer for creating and giving false information (lying) to the FBI to smear Pres. Trump during the 2016 Pres. Campaign. According to the indictment, the lawyer’s lies were used to suggest that Trump was colluding with the Russians.

In 2016, the FBI questioned him about it, and he gave the FBI false information while claiming to be an ordinary citizen and denied that he was being paid by anyone to give the FBI a false story.

It is now 5 years later, and the FBI says it has proof that the Democrat lawyer was billing the Clinton campaign, and Clinton’s group was paying him for his work. There are now rumors that Durham plans to go after Mrs. Clinton, but this writer is skeptical. It would not be surprising if Durham goes after some of Clinton’s aides, but Clinton is a prominent member of America’s Deep State.

Some say George Soros is destroying America, and Obama is in his third presidency, but nothing is ever done about what they are doing. Why?

The DOJ and FBI appear to be treating America’s Deep State as a protected class of people. If this is not true, why haven’t they been prosecuted for some of the things they have done? If it is true, it means the DOJ and FBI are protecting the wickedness, corruption, and treason of America’s Deep State (like in the days of Noah when the wickedness of man was great).

FYI: Here is some good news.

If (a big “IF”) God allows the Antichrist to confirm a 7-year covenant with many for peace in the Middle East by 2030, Jesus will be sitting on the throne of David in Jerusalem, and the Kingdom of God will exist on earth by 2037. Christians will be here in new bodies with their loved ones; Christians won’t get sick or die; there will be peace, justice, and righteousness on earth; no Covid, etc.

The bad things mentioned above are signs that a new world is coming soon.

Eight, concerning a falling away in the Church: on Sept. 21, 2021, LifeSiteNews reported that Pope Francis has a history of praising pro-abortion politicians, he supports serving communion to pro-abortion politicians, and he has endorsed gay civil unions.

Pope Francis has the spiritual qualifications of the False Prophet (supports world government, world religion, etc.), but he is getting old. If he is the False Prophet, the Rapture could be very soon.

Before closing, here is a personal message.

I get a little uncomfortable when other ministries ask me to publicize what they are doing because if they or some of their people go astray, I don’t want it to have a negative impact on Rapture Ready or my ministry. Having said this, a Christian group called Tactical Civics is seeking God-fearing patriots that want to restore America. I am thankful for (and support) anyone that wants to restore America. A member of the group has asked me to encourage people that Love Jesus and America to watch the 11-minute video at this link: www.tacticalcivics.com/video

The group wants more people to know what they are doing and perhaps get involved.

Finally, are you Rapture Ready?

If you want to be rapture ready and go to heaven, you must be born again (John 3:3). God loves you, and if you have not done so, sincerely admit that you are a sinner; believe that Jesus is the virgin-born, sinless Son of God who died for the sins of the world, was buried, and raised from the dead; ask Him to forgive your sins, cleanse you, come into your heart and be your Saviour; then tell someone that you have done this.

[adenei]

Day 13: January Word Challenge

A/N: I hope you’re ready for some angst! Here’s a one shot of Ron showing up at Shell Cottage...the first time.

*****************

Tea

Ron stumbled in the door of Shell Cottage, looking up to see Bill and Fleur sitting at the small table in their kitchen. Bill immediately stood up, his wand in hand and pointed at Ron. “What are you doing here?” he asked instinctively.

“You’re supposed to ask me a question only I know,” Ron said weakly.

“How were you so lucky the night of the battle at the Astronomy Tower at Hogwarts?” Bill asked.

“Harry gave us his bottle of Felix Felicis to split. I shared it with Ginny, Neville, Luna and Her- Her-” Ron broke down in tears. 

He’d left them. He fucking left them, and he couldn’t find them again. His fists were swollen, his eye most likely black and puffy. There was blood all over his clothes. He was sure he looked a mess, but he didn’t care. All the bones in his body could be broken and the only thing he’d still be focusing on was getting back to Hermione.

“Where are Harry and Hermione?” Bill asked, his wand still at the ready.

At the mere mention of Bill’s words, Ron broke down further, falling to his knees, and covering his face with his hands. Bill finally put his wand down, realizing something was very, very wrong. He walked over to his brother.

“Tell me they’re not dead,” he said quietly as he placed his hand on Ron’s good shoulder, not that Bill knew which was which. When Ron didn’t answer, Bill became more frantic. “Ron, please, tell me they’re not dead!”

Bill moved his hands to grip Ron by both shoulders now, in an attempt to get Ron to look at him square in the face. He immediately let go when Ron yelped in pain at Bill’s touch of his injured shoulder.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Bill asked as Fleur rushed over now as Bill’s hands flew backward and Ron grabbed the splinched shoulder. 

“Ron, you’ve got to say somezing. We want to help,” Fleur said gently.

“I- I left,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. 

“You what?” Bill said, the tension in his voice cut through the still air of the cottage like a knife.

“I wanted to go back as soon as I’d apparated out of the wards,” Ron said as another round of sobs racked his body. 

“I’ll make some tea,” Fleur said immediately.

“And get some food out. It looks like you haven’t eaten in weeks,” Bill added.

“No! If they can’t eat, I won’t either,” Ron said stubbornly.

“Ron, you have to eat something!” Bill argued.

“I can’t! It’s bad enough I already left them. It’s not fair. I need to get back to them. I need to find them!” he was becoming more and more hysterical.

Fleur moved back to Ron after setting the tea kettle on the stove. “Ron, you must calm yourself. You will not be able to find zem if you cannot calm your mind.” Fleur’s gentle voice allowed Ron to finally take deep breaths and settle himself slightly. “Zat is good. Now, I know there is a lot that we want to know. Can you start with your shoulder?” she asked.

The tea kettle started to whistle as Fleur made her way back over to prepare cups for everyone. Ron took that time to get himself under control. The last twenty four hours had been an absolute whirlwind, and he hadn’t had time to process much of it. For now, he was safe, but Harry and Hermione were still out there, and he needed to get himself together if was going to figure out a way to get back to them. He was no help right now, blubbering on like a buggering idiot.

Fleur walked swiftly back over to the table and set a cup down in front of Ron. She didn’t say anything more as she waited for Ron to speak when he was ready.

Ron eventually took a deep breath in. “You heard about our Ministry break-in in September?” Ron asked as Bill and Fleur nodded. “Well, we were staying at Grimmauld Place, but Yaxley caught hold of us as Hermione apparated us back and compromised the location. She was able to shake him off and got us to safety, but in the process, I was splinched.”

“On your shoulder?” Bill asked as Ron nodded.

“May I see it?” Fleur asked gently.

Ron took a sip of his tea before reluctantly shedding his jacket. Taking off his sweater was still challenging. He felt a stab of pain in his heart as he thought of Hermione helping him undress in the tent. Fleur sensed his need of assistance and moved around the table to help him. Once his sweater was removed, it revealed the awful tear that Hermione had done her best to mend using the dittany. 

“Oh my!” Fleur said in shock.

“Ron, that looks awful,” Bill said as he shook his head.

“I know, but there wasn’t much we could do. Hermione-” her name caught in his throat, “she did her best to fix it, but we only had dittany. There were no other potions, and we had no means of getting anything else. We couldn’t take the risk after the Ministry debacle. So she’d apply dittany and I wore a sling.” Bill and Fleur looked at him, confused by his last word. “It’s a muggle thing to help stabilize the shoulder,” he explained.

Fleur disappeared up the stairs, no doubt to get potions and supplies to help the healing process. Ron sipped more of his tea while he waited for her to return. When she reappeared, she looked at him concernedly.

“I do not know how much zis will help, seeing as how it ‘as been over a month since ze injury, but I will do my best.” Fleur took one of the vials out. “Drink this first. It eez a blood replenishing potion, and you likely need it the most.”

“Why?” Ron asked. 

“Your body does not replenish its own blood after eet ‘as been lost. By ze looks of the wound, you lost a lot of blood, and zere has not been any replenishment yet. Drink,” she said sternly.

Ron did as he was told, and then took the other bottles Fleur had given him. Once she was satisfied, she pulled out one more bottle that had some sort of cream inside of it. “Zis may hurt, but it is necessary to help start ze healing process.”

He closed his eyes as Fleur rubbed the salve into the deep gash on his shoulder. She was right, it did sting significantly, but Ron powered through it with a grimace on his face.

“Now, I cannot say you will not scar, but zis will at least allow you to heal fully. You should apply a small amount twice a day.” Fleur placed the lid back on the container and handed it to him. 

He reached for his sweater, and Bill helped him put it back on. “Can you tell us what you’re doing here now?” Bill brought the subject back around to Ron’s presence at Shell Cottage.

“I- I can’t tell you everything, Bill. Just that- we’re dealing with Dark Magic. Really Dark Magic, and it got inside my head. Harry and I got in a fight and when he told me to leave, I- I did.” Ron was so ashamed of himself. “I need to get back to them! I should have never left! That wasn’t me. It wasn’t! How am I supposed to find them again?” He looked desperately at his brother.

Bill didn’t give much away. Ron could tell he was angry over what Ron had done, but anger wouldn’t fix this. “We’ll help you find your way back to them. Lee’s wireless show may be able to help give us clues. But Ron, you need to promise me you’ll stay here until you’ve healed or you’ve found them. It’s too dangerous to go disappearing out there on your own.”

Ron nodded. He appreciated his brother’s words, but at the same time he knew how monumental of a task it would be. Hermione had taken every precaution in her protective enchantments. He was sure they’d be travelling under the invisibility cloak, and even if they did slip up, how would he know where they’d be? It was impossible.

“I have one more question before you should sleep,” Bill said.

“What is it?” Ron asked.

“Did your fight with Harry get physical?” Bill asked.

“What? No! Why would you say that? We just yelled a bunch of shit at each other,” Ron defended. He knew his best friend. Harry would never intentionally hurt him, with or without magic.

“Then how did you come across that black eye?” Bill pressed.

“Oh, er, I ran into snatchers when I apparated away from the campsite.”

‘You WHAT?” Bill said angrily.

“Ron, you could have been captured and killed! What were you thinking?”

“How was I supposed to know they’d be in Diagon Alley?”

“They’re everywhere, Ron! I thought you were smarter than that!” Bill was angry, and it showed on his face and in his words. It took Fleur’s touch on his shoulder to ground him. He inhaled slowly. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. Honestly, you’re smarter than I ever thought of being at your age.”

Ron snorted. “Yeah, right. I know it was stupid. I didn’t know where else to go. If I went home, they’d know Mum and Dad were lying about the Spattergroit.”

“You know they’re being watched?” Bill asked, somewhat surprised.

“Yeah, Harry saw Umbridge’s notes when he raided her office. He was the one who tipped Dad off in the lift.”

A look of understanding crossed Bill’s face. “Ah, that does make sense now. Dad suspected it must have been one of you, but he had no proof. They did a good job covering things up quickly.” Bill looked at his brother. “So, you fought your way out, then?”

“Er, yeah.”

“How many were there?”

“Five, I think. Managed to get one of their wands, too,” Ron said as he pulled it out of your bag.

“Hold onto it, you never know when you’ll need it,” Bill told him.

“You should get some sleep,” Fleur said as Ron finished his tea. “I will show you to the guest bedroom upstairs.

“Thanks,” Ron said. He slowly stood up and grabbed his rucksack. Ron began walking toward the stairs when Bill called to him.

“Ron,” he asked hesitantly. He didn’t continue until Ron met his eyes. “The snatchers didn’t use any Unforgivables on you, did they?”

Ron stared at his brother for a few moments. He owed it to Bill to not lie to him. Merlin knew he already couldn’t tell him enough because of the secrecy of the hunt. 

“Yeah,” Ron said quietly. 

He turned and walked up the stairs before Bill could question him more. Ron didn’t want to talk about it anyways. He’d never wish the Cruciatus Curse on anyone. He knew the Death Eaters would use violence, but he still wasn’t prepared for it. 

In all honesty, Ron allowed himself to believe he’d deserved it. If he’d never left, he wouldn’t have been in that position. Maybe it was punishment. Ron pushed the thoughts from his mind. He couldn’t dwell on that. The most important thing was to get back to Hermione and Harry. 

He belonged with his best friends, and he knew that now. The information he’d gained from his short stint on the street would be a matter of life and death for his best friends. Harry and Hermione would inch closer and closer to capture the longer it took Ron to get back to them. Of that he was certain.

[skinks]

had the unfortunate experience recently of my friend having sex in the same room as me while she thought i was asleep after a night out and i cant stop imagining reddie doing that or late twenties living in an apartment with other losers and having really loud sex when they thought no one else was home while bev just whisper scream/laughs the entire time and when they finally finish and come out bill just shouts “RICHIE TOZIER FUUUUCKS” extra points if this is how they find out theyre together

oh my GOD well first off big giant rip to you that you had to hear your friend fuccin

but holy shit what if reddie room with some of the others, and everyone always hangs out at their apartment. They have separate bedrooms of course, but they’re always sneaking into each other’s rooms in the middle of the night and then back out again before Mike or Bev wake up. Like a) they want to keep this thing as just Theirs while it’s still so raw and big and b) they’re worried about messing up the Loser dynamic. Not that it would, not seriously or for long, they’re just idiots

The rest of the gang come home and eat takeout and drink until they’re all near-comatose on the floor — nobody even thought to turn on the main light after the movie’s brightness faded into VHS static and eventually a blank screen, so they’re all lying whispering in the sleepy darkness when the apartment door bangs open and Richie and Eddie come stumbling through it. They all know Eddie picks Richie up from his bartending shifts across town, that’s why they’d headed to their place first after the power went out at Stan’s, they knew the TV would be free of PlayStation tournaments and the couch would be free of pushy limbs and Cheeto dust. But they didn’t know about this. The flypaper yellow light from the hallway flickers over Richie and Eddie’s unmistakable shapes and they are making out, they are making out hard.

Like, late night Skinemax makeouts.

Like, Eddie bending Richie backwards to get at his mouth and his hips simultaneously, Richie whining and pulling Eddie’s hair type makeouts.

The others lie there, not knowing what to do because like, hadn’t Richie been teasing Eddie just last week about the hot chick who came into the Blockbuster where Eddie works who’d given him that hickey? And Eddie had insisted it was just a rash? They’re all too stunned to say anything to alert the doofuses to their presence, and they’re talking anyway. Well, gasping between wet, gross-sounding kisses. They can hear Eddie’s voice low and affronted, like he doesn’t wanna wake anyone up but he still needs Richie to know how aggrieved he is.

“Do you have—any idea what your fuckin’ shoulders look like in that shirt when you play pool?”

Something clatters, they knock something over. “No,” Richie mumbles, and he sounds like he’s drunk, but he never drinks when he has shifts at the bar. Someone kicks the door shut. “Why don’t you tell me?”

“You look—Christ, Rich, you make me so fucking hard c’mon—you look like someone who got dressed in the fucking dark.”

Laughter from both of them. Happy and hot, and the other five stare at each other from their dark hidey-floor positions. “S’not what you said after Bev’s birthday,” Richie croons. “Remember?”

“Shut up, someone’s gonna hear—”

“Had to fucking gag you with this shirt.”

Bev’s shoulders shake, and she mouths my birthday??? to Ben from behind her muffling hand. Her birthday was months ago. The boys are writhing closer to Richie’s room like something dark and tangled and many-limbed at the back of an aquarium, and Eddie’s teakettle laughter bubbles through his hisses. “I’ll give you something to gag on.”

“Promise?”

A bang, the kind of bang a wall makes when a back collides with it. Richie moans, then, and Bill is wild-eyed as he goes to stand for the lightswitch, but the others all dogpile him before he gets any further.

“You betcha, hotshot. Gonna gag you so good you won’t be able to talk for a week.”

“Nah, you’d m-miss it,” Richie pants.

The bedroom door clicks shut, and they can’t hear Eddie’s murmured response but the tone, the tone is what has them all shushing each other, like people witnessing a natural wonder. Eddie doesn’t hook up or date, they all know his mother’s insidious hooks still hold Eddie back from acknowledging he’s a sexual being at all, regardless of the fact they’re all twenty-three years old. Through that thin piece of wood though, Eddie sounds downright flirtatious. Soft and sly and gritty-salted-sweet, like when you let a mouthful of cotton candy dissolve into a tough little sugarlump on your tongue, the kind that can still break teeth. The Losers gawk at each other and come to the same exact realization at the same exact time; this is serious. Richie only laughs like that when he feels like he’s got nothing to prove, no one to impress. There’s a thump. Then the creaking twang of Richie’s shitty bed frame, and the distinct, loopy peal of Richie’s happy voice, loud even through the door.

“Jesus shit, you look—Eds, you look like someone who’s gonna get fucked in the dark.” Then another thump, more laughter.

They get right down to it. Mike and Bev nudge each other and clamp down on their giggles so hard the effort makes them weep, they’ve been sharing an apartment with these horny dumbasses for two years and haven’t been any the wiser. How, they don’t know, when the noises are so loud and evocative as to make anyone blush, all arrhythmic creaking and punched out ah-ah-hah-ahs and swearing and wet suction and filthy breathless conversation and at one point, someone blowing a definite raspberry. Ben sits with a small smile on his face and his hands over his ears, more out of respectful politeness than anything like distaste, and Stan starts gathering up the bowls of popcorn and chips like nothing’s out of the ordinary. The racket pitches in intensity. Bill lies on the floor, checking his watch with increasing disbelief. They’re all too drunk to go home, they’re stuck.

Eventually the sex crests, and crests, and crests like a giant wave that turns white and frothing and powerful well before it finally slams ashore and lessens. They hear the muffled wandering whimpers of someone who sounds a lot like Eddie feeling something too good for almost too long, like the time they took him to a monster milkshake place for his first birthday since discovering he wasn’t lactose intolerant, where he guzzled til he was pink and groaning. And then it finally gets quiet. There’s some more gentle murmuring, and hearing that feels more invasive than knowing what Richie sounds like when he comes.

A few more minutes pass, and the others gather themselves up to lie in wait on the couch and the two threadbare armchairs Richie and Eddie always fight over, even though they’re exactly the same. Bev managed to dig out some leftover party-poppers and confetti from the Congrats On The NPR Guest Spot party they threw for Mike last month (they like parties, ok) and Stan very studiously hits play on the shitty little boom box when the bedroom door swings open. It’s The Bad Touch, by the Bloodhound Gang. Nothing but mammals, bay-bee.

Richie hobbles out in nothing but briefs and bruises, bow-kneed with his mouth kiss-swollen. “No, I’m pretty sure we still have some chicken pasanda in the fridge from Saturday, man,” he says over his shoulder, “I’m just gonna—oh shit.”

His limbs startle everywhere like a frightened giraffe at the cheering toots of party horns, and at Bill’s best-straight-bro cameraderie holler of “Richie Tozier fucks! You bet your fur he does, holy shit!”

“Uh,” Richie laughs, and rakes a hand through his hair, which already looks like he’s been dragged through a hedge backwards. “Uh, hey guys?”

Then Eddie appears from behind him, sheened in sweat and drowning in Richie’s hideous boxing-kangaroo patterned shirt. He hooks his arm up around Richie’s shoulders, and obviously orgasms do wonders for disintegrating that pesky build-up of inhibition, because he beams drunkenly at them all and says, “Actually, Eddie Kaspbrak fucks.”

[devnicolee]

Into the Light (1)

Warnings: none yet! 

Summary: Wesley Parker is a smart, political genius with years of policy experience. After working at the Wakandan Outreach Center in Oakland for over a year, Erik Stevens, Wesley’s longtime friend, offers her the opportunity of a lifetime: move to Wakanda and serve as an international policy advisor to King T’Challa alongside him. For reasons even Erik doesn’t know, she jumps at the chance and immediately leaves her Oakland life behind for a new one in the elusive, secretive nation. Like her friend Erik, she is a recluse and a loner, determined to focus on rebuilding her life and keeping her secrets her own. However, when she meets a certain Mountain king, she realizes that her life in the darkness doesn’t always have to be so. But is stepping into her light that easy? Or will the fear of trusting others keep her stuck? 

Word count: 4,509

Enjoy!

***

Wesley took a tentative step down the ramp of the Royal Talon, the smoldering African heat immediately hitting her in the face. 

“Parker!”

Her face immediately lit up when she saw him, standing separate from the rest of the Royal Family. She hadn’t expected all of them to be waiting to greet her. 

“Stevens.” 

It came out as almost a quiet sigh of relief instead of the upbeat, jovial tone she usually had. After days on edge, the reality of seeing him, stepping her feet on Wakandan soil was like stepping under the warmth of a thousand suns. She couldn’t even hide how relieved she was. It certainly felt better than her impromptu move back to Oakland a year ago. She quickly fixed her face to mask her relief and put on a neutral smile, more of an expression he would expect. 

As soon as she was in arm’s length, his strong arms wrapped around her midsection to pull her into a tight hug. She hesitated for a moment, surprised at his greeting, before her arms rested on his broad shoulders to return it. Even after rekindling their friendship over the past year, she still wasn’t used to this new version of him. He was more inviting… more warm than he used to be. Wakanda had changed him, just not in the ways he originally intended. 

He pulled back, eyeing her up and down as if she had managed to acquire some injury in the last week without his watchful eye. 

“You good?”

“Yea, the flight was great… you know, I just slept through most of it.” 

Her eyes tried to take in everything: the silent planes whizzing above her head, the guards lining the landing pad around them, the grandiose palace towering above them, the sounds of bustling city streets outside the palace gates. Wesley had done a decent bit of traveling in her time and this was truly unlike any city she had ever seen. 

“Aight. Good, good. Come inside, sis… get you situated.” 

After a quick introduction to the Queen Mother and hellos to the rest of the family, all of whom she had met and worked with at the Outreach Center, Erik ushered her inside to show her the room she would be staying in. She knew the accommodations were only temporary, until she got settled and could find her own place. But she certainly was not complaining. 

She tried to listen to Shuri as she rattled off information about the different areas of the Palace, what her new bracelet did. But Wesley knew she would retain none of it. She was too excited, too anxious, too nervous.  

Her professors and old colleagues called her a budding prodigy. Everyone knew Wesley Parker was going places. But she knew what they all also called her now: a waste of talent. After graduating from Harvard, she spent years working her way from government office to government office, trying to work her way up to the upper echelons of the political sphere. She was poised to be a leading voice in foreign policy, one of the few young Black women in the field. And then, over two years ago, Wesley just walked away. From her cushy life in D.C., her high-paying position, a new job offer with the U.N. She abandoned her dream, leaving it stranded in the road for an unexpected detour. And she always looked back, always wished she could get back there. 

And here she was, as she walked down the opulent halls of this palace tucked away in Africa. This was the break in the trees illuminating her path back to her dream. This was her chance, her shot to rebuild what she lost… and this was the only place in the world she could do it. She couldn’t mess it up. She wouldn’t. 

****

“You like it?” 

Wesley laughed, rolling her eyes, “Yea nigga… this is bigger than my whole apartment.” 

Her feet sunk into soft taupe carpet blanketing her bedroom floor. She shuffled her feet, feeling the plushness between her toes. She flopped down on her bed, which felt sinfully good and soft. She propped herself up on her forearms to look at Erik, who looked amused by her childish antics. 

“Good. How you feeling?” 

Wesley sighed, rolling her eyes as she pushed herself back to her feet. The question was vague, as many from Erik were, but she knew exactly what he was referring to. She walked toward him, arms folded in annoyance at his overprotective and overbearing nature. 

“Stevens… you gotta stop asking me that. I am fine. That was, what? A week ago? I’ve been through worse, I’ve seen worse. I am good - I’ve moved on.” Her beautiful face scrunched up in a frown, “I am honestly sorry I even brought you into all that. It’s not a big deal.”

His eyes widened slightly, “The fuck? Wes. That was a big fucking deal. And lying to me about it don’t change that. You need to talk someone… you need to talk about it. And you need to tell me what ha-” 

“Erik. I am begging you… drop this. Leave it alone. Please.” 

She knew he could hear the exasperation in her words, the pleads. She didn’t like thinking about it, one of the many things from her past she flew halfway around the world to escape. The thin fraying ropes holding her up were starting to unravel again, and it took all her power not to collapse, fall right here in front of him. 

He nodded, raising his hands in surrender, knowing that she was serious if she chose to use his first name. 

“Fine. I’ll let you keep your secrets… for now. We all got ‘em. When you’re ready, I’m here. You know, I’d kill for you. I gotchu always, Wes.” 

And that’s the problem. 

“I know… you’ve killed for less.” 

Wesley was one of the few people, outside of his new family, that knew about his past, knew the road littered with blood and bodies he traveled to reach his paradise… his home. 

After her parents died in a tragic accident, 15-year-old Wesley was sent from her home in Charlotte to live with her aging grandmother who had little time or interest in raising a rambunctious teenager. However, she did have time for her friends, Ms. Louise and Mr. Franklin, the old couple in their building who had been fostering a 17-year-old boy, Erik. 

She and Erik became fast friends, developing a close brother/sister bond. Already exhibiting a penchant for violence, Erik was a good friend to have around as a young girl. He was always there to fight for her, protect her. Even when he left for MIT, everyone in the neighborhood knew she was the wrong girl to mess with. 

He looked after her when she joined him in Cambridge during his last two years at MIT. Harvard and MIT were demanding for the pair but they still spent as much time together as they could, studying their respective disciplines. As she kept her nose to the ground and worked on the Hill in D.C. after graduating and Erik started his career in the Navy, they still remained close, talking or seeing each other anytime Erik was available. For every high and every low, Erik was the one constant in her life. 

However, when Erik decided to fall deeper into the life of espionage and violence, the calls came less frequently and, eventually, stopped all together. And there was no one to call, no one to check in with to see if he was ok. And so, Wesley lost the remaining family she had in this world, the only family she thought she would ever have. 

When their paths fatefully crossed 12 months ago outside a black-owned coffee shop near the Center, both thought they had seen a ghost. They hardly recognized each other, mere shadows of the teenagers that ran through the streets together. Part of her wanted to be angry with him, but she couldn’t. One brief conversation reminded her what it was like to have family… someone who cared. And she jumped at the opportunity to have him back in her life - with the promise that he would never leave her again. And it was clear how much his life had changed. He had found home and safety while she was still fumbling in the dark, desperately searching for both. 

It didn’t take long for him to “convince” her to take a position as a consultant at the Outreach Center, lending her policy experience to help them bridge the gap between them and local policymakers in the state. It was better than what she was doing before, preparing to apply to a bookstore to pay her bills.

“Fair enough. See you for dinner? I’ll come by and scoop you… you’ll be lost in this place for days tryin’ find it yourself.” 

“Yea, yea. That’s cool. Thanks. See you then.” 

Wesley chewed her bottom lip as she watched his back retreat out her door. She hated how overprotective he was… how much he actually cared. Most people heard “I am fine,” and accept it as fact. Not Erik… he wanted the truth. 

She flopped back down on the bed, this time out of frustration and guilt, not childlike amusement. Her hand covered her face as tears stung the back of her eyes. 

“You are not fine,” she whispered out loud. But she couldn’t bring herself to tell him that… or the real reason why. 

****

“Does this look ok?” She smoothed the front of her dress. 

Erik told her dinner was casual and she tried to follow that but she also refused to look like an idiot in front of the Royal Family. This was casual enough but still stylish and cute. And purple, paired with gold jewelry, as Erik told her those were the colors of the Panther Tribe. While her relationships with Erik, Shuri, and Nakia extended beyond professional pleasantries, she could not say the same about King T’Challa, who she had only really spoken to a handful of times. She couldn’t show up to dinner looking any type of way. 

“Yea… I told you it was casual tho?” 

And he looked casual and comfy, sporting a pair of black joggers and a t-shirt. 

“This is as casual as I am gonna get. Some of us aren’t royalty, Stevens… Or should I call you Prince N’Jadaka?” 

He rolled his eyes.

“Nah you shouldn’t if you wanna know where dinner is.” 

“Stevens or Erik, it is,” she vowed quickly, not wanting to smart mouth her way out of a meal. 

“The tribal leader of Jabariland gon’ join us to by the way. Name’s M’Baku.” 

Wesley tilted her head, racking her brain for the bit of knowledge about Wakanda she learned from Shuri, Erik, and Nakia during their long sessions at the outreach center.  

“Jabariland, Jabariland… Jabari… Oh, that’s the group in the mountains right? Gorilla god, snow, just started talking to y’all again like last week?” 

“Tribe,” he corrected. “But yea, that’s the one. He is cool people tho. The only council member I like.” 

Wesley didn’t really understand why she was so nervous. After a year helping them launch the Outreach Center, she was, at least, friendly with everyone at varying degrees. But here? She was a stranger, feeling an intense desire to prove herself and fit in.

“Ms. Parker!” T’Challa stood as she entered the dining hall. It was set for seven, four of the people already seated and waiting. 

“King T’Challa,” she rose her arms in the X she had seen others do around him for a year. He smiled brightly, an encouraging sign on her end. “And you can just call me Wesley or Wes.” 

“Of course, of course. And just T’Challa will do as well. Please sit. We are just waiting on Lord M’Baku.” He gestured toward one of three empty seats available, the one with a mysterious small gift box sitting on the chair. 

“You all did not need to get me anything,” she muttered as she picked up the box. It felt heavy as she fiddled with the edge of the wrapping paper. 

“Nonsense. We are so excited to have you here. N’Jadaka and Nakia believe you will be a great asset as we determine how to situate ourselves on the world stage and I concur. This is just a token of our appreciation for your willingness to join us here and we hope it makes your job a bit easier.” 

“Thank you. And believe me, I am so appreciative of the opportunity.” She prayed no one could see the light tremble in her hands as she started to tear the paper off. However, before she could, the double doors to the hall burst open. 

“Apologies for my tardiness, my king! Issue in the mountains.” 

Wesley looked up to find a giant walking toward her, that was the only way she could think to describe him. She almost wondered if he was an enhanced person, like T’Challa. For she had never seen a “regular” man quite his size. 

You’ve never seen a man as gorgeous as him either. 

If she could have, she would have rolled her eyes at herself. It was true, he was a sight to behold. He entered the room with an aura of power and strength that would have, once upon a time, had her lusting after him. But that was hardly what she was there for. 

“No worries, M’Baku. We were just welcoming our guest, Wesley Parker. This is Lord M’Baku, tribal leader of the Jabari.” 

Wesley smiled brightly, offering him a polite wave. Her smile wilted slightly under his unreadable gaze. She watched as his eyes traveled up and down her frame, lingering on her for a few moments before he seemed to catch himself and the awkward silence filling the room.

“The American… Welcome to Wakanda, Ms. Parker.” 

Wesley bristled slightly at his words as if being called an American was an insult to her, and in many ways - it was. She turned her head to her right where Erik sat, rolling her eyes and mouthing “the American?” sharing her disdain with the only person in the room who would understand. To which he just chuckled lowly and shook his head. She fixed her face to hide her annoyance before turning back toward him as he sat down in the seat left of her. She supposed she should ready herself for that reaction.

“Uh.. thanks? I guess.” Her voice trailed off a bit as she spoke. Turning her attention back to the half opened gift sitting in her lap, she ripped the rest of the wrapping paper off. 

She gasped as she pulled a shiny, state-of-the-art tablet out of a box. 

“Oh… I can’t accept this! Thank you but I can’t.” 

It was sleek and beautiful, she had seen them all with it over the last year. And she knew no amount of money would afford her something as high tech as this. But she didn’t feel right accepting it.  

“Really, it is nothing.” Shuri waved her hand dismissively, completely ignoring the woman’s protests. “And it will work better with our tech here. It syncs to your beads, the easiest file transfers you have ever seen. You will love it.” 

“It’s a losing battle, Parker. Just say thank you,” Erik whispered out of the corner of his mouth. 

“Thank you,” she responded meekly. 

T’Challa motioned for a servant to take it from the dinner table, letting Wesley know it would be brought to her room. 

“Thank you! It’s too much, really. But I appreciate it. I am sure it will work better than mine.” She thought back to the broken and beaten iPad tucked in her bag, the screen partially shattered and many years past its prime. 

Small conversations commenced throughout the group as Wesley sat watching. Shuri and M’Baku were engaging in a lively debate about the merits of vibranium vs. Jabari wood? Whatever that was. Hushed whispers past between T’Challa and Nakia on the other end of the table. And Erik listened, albeit reluctantly given the look on his face, to the Queen Mother chastise him for missing yet another council meeting.  

Wesley sat, eating her second course of only God knew how many, just listening to all of them laugh, bicker, and poke fun at each other. 

This is nice, Wesley thought. She knew they weren’t her family. But even being in their presence lifted her spirits more than she could have known. More than sad for what she didn’t have, she was filled with joy for what Erik found. She was curious how they found a way to accept him, forgive him… love him after all he did. But she was glad they had. He deserved it. He deserved happiness after losing so much for so long.

And you don’t. 

She shook her head lightly, as if she could shake the negative orator out of her mind. But she knew she couldn’t. That voice was always there, always reminding her to never get attached. Everyone leaves, everyone hurts you. Because nobody wanted her. 

“Wes. Wes!” 

At the sound of her name, Wesley pulled herself out of her thoughts, directing her attention at Shuri. It was clear the young girl had tried and failed to get her attention multiple times. 

“S-sorry, princess. I-I got lost in my own thoughts there. What did you say?” 

“No problem. I just asked how the date with Jason went?”

Wesley blinked a few times in confusion before it hit her. Fuck. Jason was a gorgeous and accomplished volunteer at the Outreach Center who taught engineering to the students with Shuri. He had his eye on Wes since the day she literally ran into him in the staff lounge but Wes never really paid him much attention. Shuri had tried incessantly to play matchmaker with the pair. Wesley had almost forgot she lied and told Shuri she had agreed to go on a date with him. She had no intention of doing such a thing; she just didn’t want to be asked about it again. 

“O-oh we ended up not being able to get it scheduled before I moved. Y-you know, it all happened so suddenly.” 

Shuri seemed crestfallen for a moment but immediately perked up. 

“Oh, well good thing there are soooooo many eligible men here. And cute too! Nakia and I will find you someone, don’t worry.” 

She wasn’t worried or interested. But she appreciated Shuri’s enthusiasm and good intentions so she just nodded and smiled. 

“It must have been hard, moving away from home so quickly,” the Queen Mother interjected, thankfully moving the conversation away from Wesley’s nonexistent love life. “We were surprised you wanted to move so soon.” 

“I-I hadn’t been in Oakland long. Just a year so I hadn’t put down too many roots. Wasn’t too difficult to make the move.” 

“Still, your friends and family. It must have been hard to say goodbye so fast?” Shuri asked. 

“Yes, it was.”

She picked up her wine glass, taking a long sip, which confirmed the finality in her clipped and short response. This conversation was over. 

Everyone returned to their separate conversations and their food. Awkwardness slowly seeping into her as she questioned whether she should have just lied to keep the conversation going and be polite. 

“Do not feel awkward. Shuri and the tribal leaders in Jabariland have been trying to play matchmaker with me for the last year. I just ignore them.” 

Wesley laughed, directing her attention to the owner of that deep baritone voice. “And they haven’t caught on yet?”  

M’Baku brought his glass of wine to his lips. “Of course, not.” 

“Well, I could use some of your tips then. The Princess is quite persistent. But I suppose that is what makes her the genius she is,” Wesley mused. 

“Happy to share my insights anytime.” 

“You live in the mountains, right? I didn’t even know it could snow here.” 

M’Baku smirked, “I imagine there is quite a lot you do not know about Wakanda yet.” 

Wesley took the bait, he was not wrong. There was so much she didn’t know about this country she was now meant to help lead. 

“Well, tell me something about Wakanda you think I should know.” 

And his answer to that question carried them through the main course and on to dessert. She mostly listened as he talked about his home, Jabariland, and the people there. It was very surface level, but it made her want to learn more, as much as she could. He explained the differences between the Jabari and the rest of the country. As he spoke, Wesley felt at ease for the first time since she sat down at the table, felt glimmer of her old eager and passionate self peaking through the thick walls she had stacked up. Talking to him felt like talking to an old friend, someone she had known all her life. 

“So you come down here often?” 

“A few times a month. T’Challa and N’Jadaka lean on my counsel often.” 

Wesley nodded, “So we will be seeing quite a lot of each other then, I suppose?” 

“Oh, I am counting on that.” 

The flirtatious tone in his voice was not lost on Wesley, even if no one else at the table was paying them any attention. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, seeing him wink at her before smiling. If her deep, warm brown skin could, her cheeks would have turned a rosy pink. There was a lot about this face that was gorgeous beyond belief. But his smile drew her eye, pulled her in. She could tell he frowned a lot, his resting face throughout dinner had looked generally disgruntled. However, his smile lit his whole face up, made him look even more beautiful - as if that were possible - and more youthful.

“All, I must retire for the evening. Attend to some tribal business. I will see you all in the Council meeting in the morning. My king.”

He saluted T’Challa who returned it and offered him a head nod. He offered Wesley a lingering glance and and a small smile before leaving.

What the fuck was that? She imagined he did that with a lot of women. Harmless flirting that meant nothing at the end of the day. She knew a man like that would never go for someone like her. 

“U-uh I should head to bed as well. I have quite a bit of reading I wanted to do before bed, actually. Thank you for dinner. It was amazing.” Wesley wiped the corners of her mouth before folding her napkin and placing it by her dirty plate. 

“Let me walk you,” Nakia offered. “I am headed in that direction anyway. T’Challa and Erik have some business to discuss.” 

A sense of longing washed over Wesley as she watched the intimate, subtle touches that passed between the pair as T’Challa kissed her hand and squeezed it before letting her go. Once again, she shook her head, internally stamping down the emotions that did not serve her cause. 

She offered them all thanks again and said good night before following Nakia. There was silence for the first minute or two as the events of dinner tumbled through her head. 

Was he actually flirting with me? 

Does it really matter? She debated with herself. Even if he was, which seemed highly unlikely, there were about 1,000 reasons she couldn’t pursue him. Wesley pushed that aside quickly, deciding that he was simply a flirt and she was simply a fool so starved for love that she would fall for his flirtatious nature so easily. 

And then that awkward moment with Shuri and the Queen Mother. Wesley hated questions about her personal life. Not because she found them intrusive, but because she did not have the standard cookie cutter answers people actually expected when they asked those questions. She couldn’t tell the truth and all that left her with was lies and she had enough lies… enough secrets for one person. 

“I can almost hear you overthinking, Wesley.” 

Nakia broke their silence, stopping in front of a large bay window that looked out into the palace gardens. The moonlight illuminated Nakia’s face, which carried a concerned expression on it. 

“Dinner went well. Everyone is excited to have you here, truly. Don’t stress over tomorrow. The Council will like you.” 

The tension building in her chest dissipated almost immediately, thankful that this was the path the conversation was taking. 

“Y-yea I’m sure you’re right. I’m good, really. Just need to get some of the nervous energy out I guess.” 

Nakia nodded before turning to resume their trek back to her quarters. More turns and long hallways than Wesley could count later, they were standing outside her bedroom. 

“You and M’Baku seemed to have hit it off.” Nakia’s face was filled with interest and excitement. “And that is saying something… there are few in Wakanda as cold as Lord M’Baku. Pun intended.” 

Wesley chuckled, tucking a stray black hair behind her ear. Her small frame leaned against her closed, deep mahogany doors as they talked. 

“He was nice! Well… everyone here is nice. But I am sure he is like that with all the ladies, just a charmer.” 

“Oh I can assure you, he is not. He likes you.” 

Wesley’s face must have been a lens into her inner skepticism for Nakia immediately started to laugh. 

“I am serious!” 

Wesley’s hand fumbled for the door knob, slowly opening it before saying, “I doubt it but it doesn’t really matter. I am here to work, I don’t have time for much else.” 

Nakia tilted her head, almost examining her. She imagined it was from all the spy training but Nakia was almost impossible to read, which frustrated Wesley to no end. Half of being good at politics was simply being able to read people. Nakia always made her question that skill. 

“I find that people only make drastic moves like you have for two reasons. They want to start over or they are running from something. I don’t know which one brought you here, Wesley. But you won’t find your escape or new start behind a mountain of paperwork. It is out there.” Her hand pointed behind her at the stained window across across from her door. 

“What are you saying?” 

“I am saying is that Wakanda is more than its political agenda. Wakanda is its people, its culture. To succeed here,” she gestured around her, “You have to know what’s out there. You have to experience what is out there. You have to live, Wesley.” 

Silence. 

“Just something to think about. Good night, Wesley.” 

***

Tag list: @muse-of-mbaku​ @allinhishands​ @ms-reader​

A/N: Thanks for reading! Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list. 

[orangeoctopi7]

A Negligible Price

I guess it’s becoming a tradition for me to add another chapter to A Minor Inconvenience every year for @stanuary . I swear I didn’t mean for this to happen. It’s just that the prompt “Sacrifice” got me thinking about this story and where I thought it could go, and then I got writing and I started coming up with ideas for how I could actually put a finish to this story. So yeah, hopefully it won’t be another year before I post chapter 4, but not promises!

Also, first time I’ve had to do this, but:

CONTENT WARNING: DISCUSSION OF SUICIDE/MARTYR COMPLEX AND SUIDICE ADJACENT THEMES.

* * *

Bill rushes to gather himself together again. Now that Sixer and his idiot brother have caught on, he knows they’ll probably be making a move against him soon. The time for lying in wait and keeping a low profile has passed. He’s been getting faster, better at finding the tiny flecks of gold scattered into the dark abyss below. 

Unfortunately that also means that he’s noticed that some missing pieces just never turn up. As an interdimensional being who’s existed in countless dimensions across innumerable timelines, Bill likes to think he knows himself pretty well now. What he’s made of, how much power he’s accumulated, what he’s capable of. And if he had to estimate now, which he does, he’d say he’s been reduced to maybe a third of his power. Roughly two thirds of him are missing. 

What happened to those missing pieces? Were they simply deleted by that memory eraser? Did he leave some of himself behind in that physical form he left to enter Stan’s mind in the Fearamid? Bill can only guess, but really, in the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t matter. What matters is getting out of this moron’s brain and starting again on his path to a universe free of rules.

* * *

Stan recovered from his latest memory lapse quickly, despite the fact that it was the worst one he’d experienced since he sacrificed himself to the memory gun last summer. The experience had clearly put Ford on edge, and as much as he tried to bottle up his emotions and remain calm, Stan could practically feel the panic coming off him in waves. 

They were both relieved when they reached Spitsbergen. There was a hospital in Longyearbyen, where Ford insisted they stop to give Stan a check-up. Stan felt fine, but if it helped ease Ford’s nerves, then he could sit through a check-up.

Explaining Stan’s condition to the doctor was a struggle, considering English was not his strongest language. They definitely got across that Stan was experiencing memory problems, but the doctor seemed to be under the impression it had been caused by an injury to the head in an accident, rather than a purposeful exposure to a memory-erasing device. 

Eventually, Ford had lost his patience and just asked if they could use the CT or MRI machine themselves. The doctor spoke enough English to tell them that the nearest CT or MRI machine was in either Iceland or Russia.

The elder Pines twins left the hospital in low spirits. Ford kicked at little pebbles as they walked down the street.

“There’s a research facility in Ny-Ålesund. Perhaps we could sail up there and commandeer some equipment to rig up our own CT scan…”

“I think it’d be easier to just hop on a plane back to the States at this point.” Stan suggested.

“If we’re going to hop on a plane somewhere, it’ll be to Reykjavik, where we won’t have to pay an arm and a leg for any treatments.”

“Yeah, we’ll just have to wait half a year.” Stan rolled his eyes. “I don’t think they’re gonna take ‘revived demon in my head’ as an urgent need.”

“Probably not…” Ford admitted.

“And you’re sure you didn’t figure anything else out the last time you were pokin’ around in my head?”

Ford grit his teeth. The truth was, he was afraid what would happen if he tried to revisit that memory. The cold flames of the memory eraser had felt so real, even just revisiting it in Stan’s mind, and they seemed to be the trigger of his latest memory lapse. Would they have a similar effect within Ford’s own memory?

“Nothing I’ve been able to make sense of.”

Stan grit his teeth. “So what now? Just leave that jerk in my head?”

Ford sighed. “I want to do some more research into what we’ve learned so far. Perhaps a trip to the library will help me find some insight. But truthfully… I may have been too hasty with punching out Bill, when I encountered him. He’s a liar who can’t be trusted, but he’s also a braggart. If I’d just let him run his mouth a little longer, we may have learned something about what he’s up to.”

* * *

Longyearbyen’s library wasn’t any bigger than the public library in Gravity Falls, and had significantly fewer books relating to Bill and mind magic, but it did at least have access to several library databases that Ford couldn’t typically log into from the Stan’O’War II. (According to Fiddleford, these databases could be hacked into quite easily, but Ford didn’t have the time or the wherewithal to learn how) It would have to do for now. Ford took a seat at a computer, and with a little help from a librarian, he was soon scrolling through peer-reviewed articles from different archeologists and anthropologists and folklore experts and descendants of the Aztecs and Mayans debating who Xolotl was, what his role was in the Aztec religion, how much his lore changed from Pre- and Post- Colombian invasion, and so forth. 

What he’d learned so far was interesting, to say the least. The things that most people agreed upon was that Xolotl was a god of death, fire, and lightning. What caught Ford’s attention was the fact that they were also the god of twins and deformities. He glanced down at his twelve fingers, which rested awkwardly on the small keyboard meant for people with just ten. It seemed odd that Bill would call on this particular death god, when they seemed far more likely to be a patron to Stan and Ford. 

While Ford puzzled over this new information, Stan browsed the library, looking for something to entertain himself while he waited. Unsurprisingly, there weren’t a whole lot of English books in this Norwegian library. Luckily, it wasn’t long before he stumbled upon an extensive comics section. Even though he still couldn’t read most of them, the pictures were at least enough that he got the gist of what was going on.

 European comics were very different from American comics. They featured a lot less costumed superheroes punching bad guys and a lot more weird, quirky characters setting out on adventures and exploring the world. They also seemed to lean more heavily on comedy rather than drama. Stan decided he liked them.

He’d been looking at a story about some rich duck when he noticed he felt odd. He didn’t know how else to explain it other than to say that his brain felt itchy. The more he concentrated on it, the more it faded away, but when he went back to looking at the comic and got absorbed back into the story, it came back.

After almost an hour of the feeling coming and going, Stan decided he was not imagining the sensation. He stuffed a tissue into the comic as a bookmark and got up to see what Ford would have to say about it. Almost as soon as he laid eyes on his brother, a wave of anger washed over him. Just like the itchy brain feeling, it went away almost as soon as he stopped and thought about it, but it had been so strong, that he couldn’t deny it had happened.

“Hey.” Stan tapped his brother on the shoulder as the old researcher skimmed an article about why the Aztecs associated lightning with twins.

“Hmm?” Ford acknowledged him without looking away from the screen.

“Am I forgettin’ to be mad at you about somethin’?”

That got Ford to turn and look at him. “Are you having a memory lapse!?”

“I don’t think so, but just a second ago I looked over at you and I felt really mad all of a sudden. Can’t really think of a reason why, though. I’m just wondering if maybe the other day, when I had the big blank-out, maybe we missed somethin’?”

The old researcher’s face contorted with guilt. “You have ample reason to be mad at me. I didn’t stand up for you when dad kicked you out. I never reached out to you for over ten years. I expected you to drop everything and help me with my problems without any explanation. I refused to thank you for saving my life--”

“Yeah, no, none of that stuff.” Stan shook his head. “I remember all that stuff, and I’ve already forgiven you and junk. Mmmm… did you try to enchant the mop again and not let me remember it?” But even as he joked that the underlying reason must be the latest chapter in a minor argument, he knew that couldn’t be right. The sudden bloom of anger had been much more deep-seated and horrible than that. It had felt like… it had felt like Ford had ruined everything. 

To be fair, there had been a long period of Stan’s life when he had felt like Ford had ruined everything. But Stan was over that now, and this brief brush with anger had felt even more heated than that.

Ford gave him an appraising look. “Were there any other memories or emotions associated with this feeling?”

“Oh yeah, my brain was feelin’ itchy right before that.”

“Have… you been using shampoo?” Ford asked, unsure of what to do with this information.

“Not my scalp, genius, like the actual thinking part of my brain!”

“... I can’t even begin to guess what that means.”

“Ugh, I don’t know how else to describe it, ok? It’s like somethin’ was squirmin’ around in my mind!”

The brothers wore twin expressions of realization as the words left Stan’s mouth. 

“We need to get back to the boat.” Ford stood from the computer desk abruptly.

“Yep.” Stan set the comic he’d been reading down on the desk, not even bothering to remove his improvised bookmark. 

* * *

Bill throws his hands up and roars in frustration. He can’t seem to take control, even when the moron’s mind is zoning out, losing himself in some stupid comic book. He’s already in the mind! He’s been here for months! He knows his way around here. So why isn’t it working? Is it because he never made a deal with this guy? That shouldn’t matter! The last thing they did before the whole memory gun thing was shake hands! 

There's no time to waste complaining, though. Sixer will be poking around here any minute. Bill needs a plan. Before, he'd spent millions of years in the Nightmare Realm planning. Now he's making everything up as he goes.

It's clear that Bill can't just take control of Stan like he'd been counting on. But do the other two know that? He might still be able to use that to his advantage.

If Bill is going to trick these losers and get out of here, he needs to play his opponents right. Luckily, he's got years of experience fighting against Sixer. It's the Big Mackerel that he worries about. 

Before, Bill hadn't paid much attention to Stan. He thought he understood what made the simple con man tick. But then, in the end, he found he didn't understand at all. Even after months of being trapped in his mindscape, Stan is very much still a mystery to Bill.

But there is one thing about Stan that Bill does understand.

He’s willing to sacrifice himself for his family.

* * *

Once they were back aboard the Stan’O’War II, Stan allowed himself to relax, just a little. At least here his surroundings were familiar, and the only person he had to worry about was his own brother.

Under normal circumstances, “the only person he had to worry about” meant he didn’t have to look over his shoulder for law enforcement or old criminals who might recognize Stan from his drifter days. 

Today “the only person he had to worry about” meant the only person he could possibly endanger if Bill was able to take control of him. Ford was the last person Stan wanted to put in danger, but he also had to admit, his brother knew more about the demon than any other living being on the planet. 

Stan may have been able to relax a tiny fraction once they were back aboard their boat, but not Ford. Ford was in full-blown panic mode.

He frantically searched around the storage room for something, anything, that could help protect his brother from Bill. Unfortunately, they hadn’t thought to bring unicorn hair or moonstones on their voyage. He did have titanium, but he wasn’t confident enough in his emergency medical knowledge to perform cranial surgery on his own, and he doubted they’d be able to find a doctor crooked enough to do it for them. Currently, his best idea was to build an updated version of Project Mentem, but that would take time. Time he wasn’t sure Stan had.

“I can re-enter your mindscape and shatter him again.” Ford decided, pulling out the candles again. “That should at least buy you a few days.”

“Ok.” Stan nodded. He’d definitely prefer to know Bill was shattered again, and not moving around in his brain. “But it’s not like he’s doing anything right now.”

“He’s probably trying to get us to lower our guard.” Ford assumed. “I’ll need to tie you up. He usually makes his move while his victim is asleep.”

“If I need to fall asleep for your spell while tied up, we’re gonna be waitin’ a long time.” Stan warned. “I dunno if I could even fall asleep right now if I had the world’s most comfortable bed.”

“Fair point.” Ford nodded. “I may have to drug you.”

“You gotta be kidding me!” It was abundantly clear that Ford was not kidding in the slightest.

“Would you rather be used as his puppet!?” The old researcher shouted. The outburst rang in the air for a few seconds while Ford tried to steady his breathing. “Stan I… I’m sorry, I just--”

“It’s ok.” Stan pulled him into a hug and tried his best to calm his brother down. “I know you’re just scared.”

“I’m not scared for myself.” Ford explained in a small voice. “I’m scared for you. Waking up to find that you’ve hurt someone, it’s-- I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, least of all you--”

“Stanford, look at me. We’re not gonna let that happen. What if we do it while I’m awake, like we did with the memory before?”

Ford nodded meekly. “That… that could work.”

“You can still tie me up if that makes you feel better.”

The old researcher bit his lip. “...It shouldn't be necessary...”

“Ford.”

“...But it probably would ease some of my fears, yes.” he admitted.

“That’s what I thought. I’ll go get the rope.”

Still unwilling to let his brother out of his sight, Ford followed Stan up to the deck while he retrieved said rope. Once they were back below deck, he wrapped Stan tightly in a large blanket before sitting him down on a chair and tying him up, to ensure he was as comfortable as possible while still restricting his movement.

“How do you feel?” Ford asked as he lit the candles.

“Like I’m about to be shipped back to Oregon in the mail.”

“And Bill…?”

“I haven’t felt anything else from him since we left the library.”

The lack of activity should have reassured Ford, but instead it just added to his general unease. At least he was able to compose himself enough to perform the incantation.

Just as last time, after a flash of light, he found himself on the deck of Stan’s mindscape, with Stan himself standing beside him. This time, though, Bill was floating there, waiting for them.

“I KNEW YOU’D BE BACK HERE AFTER I GOT YOUR ATTENTION IN THE LIBRARY!” The demon taunted. “OH, AND LOOK. STANO HERE EVEN MADE A MENTAL CONSTRUCT OF HIMSELF WITHIN HIS OWN MIND JUST SO YOU WOULDN’T HAVE TO FACE ME ALONE! HOW CUTE!” He prodded Stan in the stomach like he was the Pillsbury Doughboy.

“Back off, bucko!” Stan threatened. “We’re here to break your whole face!”

“WHAT, YOU COULDN’T WAIT UNTIL TONIGHT TO DO IT IN YOUR DREAMS LIKE YOU ALWAYS DO?” Bill asked, voice dripping with false innocence. 

“We’re not able to risk the chance of you parading about in Stanley’s body.” Ford growled.

“HA! YOU SHOULD KNOW BETTER THAN ANYONE, FORDSY, I ONLY DO THAT TO STUBBORN KNOW-IT-ALLS WHO WON’T WORK WITH ME WILLINGLY.”

“If you think I’m gonna work with you willingly, then you’re an even bigger idiot than I thought.” Stan grunted.

“HEAR ME OUT, MAC! WE BOTH WANT THE SAME THING HERE! ME, OUT OF YOUR SAD PATHETIC MIND!”

“You can’t leave!?” Ford asked in surprise.

“WHAT, YOU THINK I ENJOY SPENDING TIME IN THIS BOZO’S MIND? YOU THINK I WAS PLOTTING MY REVENGE?”

“Honestly, yes.”

Bill gave a long, mocking laugh. “AHAHAHAHAHA! YOU REALLY THINK I CARE ABOUT A COUPLE OF INSIGNIFICANT FLESH SACKS LIKE YOU?”

“We’re the insignificant flesh sacks who killed you!” Stan reminded him.

“WELL, YOU KNOW WHAT THEY SAY. THE BEST REVENGE IS LIVING WELL.”

The brothers exchanged a suspicious glance. They highly doubted Bill actually believed that adage.

“BUT I CAN’T EXACTLY LIVE WELL TRAPPED IN YOUR MINDSCAPE. I MIGHT GET BORED AND DECIDE THE BEST REVENGE IS KILLING YOUR ENTIRE FAMILY WITH YOUR OWN HANDS.”

Ah yes, that was more along the lines of what they expected from Bill.

“So you’re saying you’ll just let bygones be bygones if I cooperate with you?” Stan asked skeptically. 

“WE’LL GO OUR SEPARATE WAYS, NEVER TO MEET AGAIN!”

“And what are you planning on doing once you’re free?” Ford asked coldly.

“NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS, SIXER.” The demon waved him off. “NOW ARE YOU GONNA HELP ME OUT OF HERE OR NOT? THE SOONER THE BETTER. YOU TWO AREN’T GETTING ANY FURTHER AWAY FROM THE AVERAGE LIFE EXPECTANCY OF A HUMAN MALE, AND FISH FACE HERE DOESN'T EXACTLY TAKE GOOD CARE OF HIS BODY.”

“Hey!” Stan shouted indignantly.

“Why should Stan’s life expectancy factor into this?” Ford asked.

“HMMM? OH, NO REASON.” Bill said evasively. “I’M JUST, Y’KNOW, IN A HURRY.”

“You’re an immortal, extradimensional being. You’ve been trying to find a way out of the nightmare realm since before multicellular life developed on this planet. If you’re so sure we’re close to the end of our lives, why not wait until we’re out of the way? You must realize we’ll try and stop you from starting Weirdmaggedon again!” Ford reasoned.

“WHO SAID ANYTHING ABOUT STARTING WEIRDMAGGEDON AGAIN?” Bill denied. “AND MAYBE AFTER A BILLION YEARS, I’M TIRED OF WAITING!”

“Unless you aren’t immortal any more.” the old researcher concluded.

“YOU’VE SEEN FOR YOURSELF, FORDSY, EVERY TIME YOU OR YOUR IDIOT BROTHER SHATTER ME, I PULL MYSELF BACK TOGETHER.”

“Immortal in the mind, perhaps. But what happens when the mind you’re occupying finally dies?”

“ALRIGHT, YOU FIGURED IT OUT!” Bill sneered. “I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN A GENIUS LIKE YOU WOULD. YEAH, MY LIFE’S TIED TO THE BIG MACKEREL’S NOW. SO WHAT? YOU GONNA KILL YOUR BROTHER JUST TO GET RID OF ME?”

“Of course not!” Ford barked.

“Hey, I’d be more than happy to take you down with me if it meant making sure you never hurt anyone else ever again!” Stan challenged the demon.

Ford stared at his brother with wide eyes. “Stanley, no!”

“Hey, relax, I’m not talkin’ suicide or anything.” Stan assured him. “But he’s right about one thing. I’m not gonna live forever.”

I’ll only do it if I have to. A stray thought cawed overhead.

Stan cussed under his breath as Ford gaped at him with a mix of alarm and pity.

“I’m not gonna take it back.” Stan insisted after a moment. “If that’s what it comes down to, to keep him from hurtin’ you or the kids, then I’m taking him down with me.”

Ford placed his hands firmly on Stan’s shoulders and looked him straight in the eye with all the intensity he could muster. “We won’t let that happen!” 

Bill laughed at them cruelly. “RIGHT, CUZ YOU’VE HAD SO MUCH SUCCESS STOPPING ME IN THE PAST.”

“I’ll find some other way!” Ford insisted.

“I’M SURE YOU COULD, WITH TIME.” Bill agreed. “BUT I’M GONNA STRANGLE YOU IN YOUR SLEEP BEFORE THEN!”

Not if I strangle myself first! Another one of Stan’s stray thoughts called.

Ford gave his brother a frustrated shake. “No! Stanley, I swear to you, that won’t be necessary!”

“Alright, that’s it. We’re not havin’ this conversation in my brain, where you can hear all my unprocessed thoughts.” Stan decided.

Suddenly, Ford’s form and everything around them flickered and began to fade to white. Stan and Bill were the only ones who remained solid and whole. Stan was waking up? But he’d never been asleep before the spell in the first place!

“Don’t you try any funny business!” Stan pointed an accusing finger at Bill. “I’m coming back to shatter you into a million smaller pieces as soon as I fall asleep tonight!”

[pogueshomecoming]

Bruises (part two) x JJ Maybank

requested? yes: there were multiple! I can’t find them all on my blog now but thank you to everyone who asked for this. I hope it meets your expectations!

the original request, “jj gets drunk and starts being aggresive but when he’s sober he sees the injuries he has made on you and asks where they have come from (not knowing he was the one) and john b/ the other pogues have to tell him. :))))) (@jjjmaybank)

fill out this survey to join my taglist(s), here’s my masterlist, and requests are open

warnings: crying, angst, but also soft toward the end

word count: 2.5k

here’s part one icymi! idk how you could’ve since I haven’t shut up about it

++

After that day you left JJ on the ground, you distanced yourself from the Pogues. It felt like the right thing to do, considering you weren’t around before you started dating him. It also broke your heart because the four of them had become your family.

Without them, you became more independent. You ran newspaper routes in Figure 8 to keep the lights on in the little shack you called home. It was good for you to establish a routine.

Still, there were those days that you pedaled a little faster past the Maybank residence, so you didn’t have to think about JJ for too long. You don’t hate him for what he did, but you know he does. It put you in a hard position.

Knowing that you’re the only person who could convince JJ that he wasn’t terrible, and knowing you aren’t ready to face him caused emotional turmoil. So, you had to not think about him.

Occasionally, you’d see the Pogues around, minus JJ. You never stayed long enough to have a conversation, but you always acknowledged their presence. JJ was their friend first, they needed to be there for him before you’d think about going back to them. Taking yourself out of the group eliminated them from choosing between you and JJ, it was simple.

Until it wasn’t simple anymore. You’d called in an order at the Wreck after paying your bills to treat yourself. It was early, right as the Wreck was opening when you got there. The plan was to get your food and go home because spending time alone had come to be your favorite thing recently.

Entering the restaurant, you go straight to the bar to let them know you were here. Only after that do you look around, spotting Pope, Kie, and John B sitting still a table in the corner. They’re already looking at you, but grabbing your food and going isn’t an option because the lady hasn’t brought it back yet.

So, you walk over, giving them a smile and a wave. “Hey, guys.”

“Hi, Y/N. You doing okay?” Kie asks, but something is off with them. Pope’s eyes are focused on something behind you. John B and Kie keep cutting their eyes to the side.

“Yeah, I’m good. How about you?” You ask any of them that will answer, looking between the three.

“Uh, yeah, we’re good too. That’s good, glad to hear.” John B says, but it’s rushed, and he’s not looking at you now.

“What is going on? Are you guys okay?” You twist a little to glance around the dining room. Nothing seems out of the ordinary until you turn back to the table, looking at the empty chair that your hands were resting on. There was a cup on the table in front of it.

“Oh, you’re expecting someone.” You say quietly, and suddenly they’re all looking at you again.

“JJ is in the bathroom.” Pope blurts, causing Kie and John B to look at him.

“What? She should know before he comes out, right?” Obviously, they’d talked about this situation before.

“I’m on my way out, it’s not a big deal. It was good to see you guys.” You wave them off, but Kie stops you from turning around.

“You don’t have to rush off, that’s not what we want. We just-“

“I know, Kie. It’s okay. There’s no sides or anything, but I’m going to go anyway. See you.”

You give a small smile before turning around. The smile quickly fades when you’re now standing in front of your ex-boyfriend. Suddenly, your palms are sweaty, and your heart has moved to your ears. Your emotions are overwhelming you because you can’t get yourself to move or say anything.

JJ physically looks good, he looks like he always did. However, his face has softened upon realizing that it’s you. His eyes are starting to get shiny, and his brows are pinched together ever so slightly. To top it all off, the corners of his mouth seem to be pulled down toward the floor by an invisible string.

“Y/N, your order is ready.”

JJ flinches, hearing someone say your name. You don’t say anything, you step around him. Every ounce of his energy went into not reaching out for you, but that was all he wanted to do.

You grab the paper sack off of the counter and immediately exit the restaurant, afraid that you were going to suffocate if you didn’t. You’re panting by the time you reach your bike, setting the food into the little basket, and swinging your leg over the seat.

Seeing JJ confirmed all of your worst fears. He hadn’t forgiven himself or even thought about it. JJ couldn’t look at you without being reminded of what he did to you.

But the worst fear? The worst part? You realized you still weren’t ready to talk to him. Feeling yourself freeze up in front of him was exactly how it felt when you were tensing, your muscles to prepare for his blow. You hated yourself for that because he didn’t mean it. JJ wouldn’t do it again, you didn’t have to talk to him to know that.

So instead of enjoying your celebratory meal, you threw it away and cried.

+

Three days later, you’re holding your bike while standing beside it, looking at the Maybank house in front of you.

Your hands are shaky as you lay the bike in the grass. JJ’s dirt bike is in the front, but his dad’s van is not. If there was any time to do this, it’s now.

The front door is opened slightly, so you don’t knock as you enter. Trash litters almost every surface, but that was normal around here. Music is coming from behind JJ’s bedroom door.

Another deep breath. This time you do knock, but you don’t wait for an answer.

JJ is lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. His chest rises and falls slowly with his breathing. For a second, you think he’s asleep, but then his chest expands as he inhales harder. That’s when you realize he’s crying.

“JJ?” You ask softly, you’re still in the doorway with the doorknob in your hand.

He sits up immediately, wiping at the tears that streak his face. That’s not what you’re worried about, you’re worried about the dozen bruises all over his upper body. His lower abdomen is so bruised you can’t tell what color his skin is supposed to be.

You gasp, covering your hands with your mouth. JJ follows your gaze, looking over his body, but he shrugs your reaction off.

“Don’t Y/N. This is what I deserve for what I did to you.” JJ shakes his head. His voice is shaky and barely audible.

“What on earth are you talking about, JJ?” You don’t move. For some reason, your feet are planted right where they are.

“I’ve been picking fights with my dad. Purposely getting him worked up so he’ll hit me. I want to feel the pain I caused you for every day of my life.” JJ can’t look at you. He can hardly speak he’s so upset.

You tilt your head back, looking at the ceiling for just a moment while you think. A sob that leaves JJ’s mouth is what pulls you back, and even though you’re still trying to figure out what to say, your feet start moving toward him.

He looks up at you just as you open your arms and take the last step you need to reach him. As you close yourself around him, JJ doesn’t try to fight you, he accepts you.

The two of you stay like that for a few minutes, at least, each of you squeezing with a good and constant amount of pressure as if you’re afraid to ever let go. Eventually, though, you gather your thoughts, and you’re ready to talk to him.

You pull your arms out from underneath his and move your hands to his face, making him look at you.

“Listen to me, JJ Maybank. I want this to get through your thick and stubborn skull, got it?” You wait for him to nod before you continue, blinking the tears out of your eyes. “You are not terrible because of a mistake you made. It doesn’t define you, it doesn’t mean you deserve punishment, it only means that you had a lapse of judgment.”

“But I hurt you. I can’t forgive myself for that.” JJ’s blue eyes are so pretty when he’s crying, but you like them much more when he’s smiling.

“Yeah. You did hurt me, JJ, but I forgive you. I’m not excusing your actions, I’m not saying it was right, or that I’ll forgive you if it happens again, but I’m saying that I forgive you. Do you want to know why?”

He looks back to his lap but nods. “Because even though you hurt me, you’re the one that I wanted to heal me.”

“Really?” JJ makes eye contact with you again, and for the first time, he doesn’t look completely miserable. His frown is a little less droopy.

“Because I believe with my whole heart that you’d do anything in your power to take back your actions and prevent even the slightest chance it could happen again.���

JJ reaches up, cupping your face in his hands. “I would, and I am. I don’t go to the keggers anymore, I don’t even help John B and Pope pick it up. No more kook parties for me, either. I’m trying to do the right thing, baby, I really am.”

He’s full-on sobbing again as he clings to you.

“I know you are, sweetheart. I never doubted you, I just needed some time.”

You hold him for a little bit, rocking him back and forth until he’s calmed down. After his breathing has returned to normal, he pulls you onto the bed with him and lays you down.

“Can... can I see?” He asks, nodding toward your torso. The bruises weren’t there anymore, but you give him permission anyway.

Slowly, JJ rolls your shirt up, starting at the bottom. He stops when he meets your bra, tucking it under so it’ll stay out of his way. His breath fans over your body as he observes you for a few moments, and you watch him carefully.

JJ leans over you, opening his nightstand and digging around for a moment. When he finally finds what he wants, you recognize it as a pen.

“What are you doing?”

“Can you show me where they were?”

Even though they’re gone, you remember where exactly where they were. The image the mirror reflected the day after has stayed with you. So you trace the odd shapes with your fingertips, and JJ follows your finger with the point of the pen.

The one that used to be on your shoulder is the last one he draws, then he sits back for a few minutes. JJ’s eyes rake over your body, but not at all in a sexual way. You can tell he’s letting the negative thoughts back in, so you grab his hand to squeeze.

JJ leans down and presses a kiss to each spot. He lets his lips linger each time, giving you chills from feeling his breath. Your heart swells at the gesture, and tears prick your eyes once again. Finally, he locks eyes with you again.

“Now you should go. You can’t come back until the ink is gone, and no scrubbing it off in a day. I can’t let you forgive me yet, it’s too soon for that. I didn’t do anything to deserve redemption.” JJ has a bad habit of mumbling when he’s upset, so it’s a good thing you’ve known him long enough to understand what he’s saying.

He rolls your shirt back down to its place, and you sigh. “I don’t agree with you, JJ, but if it’s what you want, then I understand.”

You watch him roll away from you, his way of finishing the conversation. With a sigh, you get up and make your way to the door. An idea comes to mind before you’re out of his room.

Turning on your heel, you speak, your voice strong and firm to let him know you’re not playing around. “No, JJ, I’m not letting you decide when I forgive you. This should be on my terms. Come with me.”

One hand is outstretched to him, waiting for him to roll out of bed and accept it. After a few moments, he does. JJ’s movements are slow because of his soreness, and you can tell he’s trying to make it seem like he’s not hurting.

Your boyfriend places his hand in yours, knowing he can’t argue with you, so he follows without a word. However, you don’t take him far. You lead him down the hall and into the bathroom.

JJ shuts the door behind you two as you turn on the sink, letting the water run until it’s warm and grabbing a washcloth from the cabinet below. You push yourself up onto the counter next to the sink and hand him the rag, then you pull your shirt over your head.

He watches your shirt fall to the floor, turning the washcloth over in his hand. When JJ looks up at you, he’s got that tortured look on his face. The one where his eyebrows are pulled together just enough to create a line between them. The one where his eyes are red and brimming with tears. The one where the corners of his mouth are pulled into a permanent frown.

“Wash the ink off.” You lift your arms, making the marks on your skin more visible.

“What?”

You take his hand and put it under the faucet. “Because you said you haven’t done anything for redemption. I’ve spent weeks thinking about this, about what happened. It was hard, but I came to terms with it, and I forgive you, JJ. That doesn’t do us any good if you can’t forgive yourself, so I need you to wash the ink off. Show yourself that I’m healed, and we can move forward.”

Tears well up in both of your eyes, and slowly, JJ starts gently wiping the ink on your skin away. You reach up every now and then to wipe his tears off of his cheeks, each time you see a corner of his mouth lift in a small smile to show his appreciation.

When he’s finished, JJ places his hands on the edge of the sink and leans his weight into them. You think maybe he’s trying to hide that his hands are shaking, but the closer you look at him, his whole body is shaking.

Gently, you tug on his elbow until he’s standing between your legs again. All you can do is take him into your arms and let him cry. You did what you could, and the rest is up to him. Maybe things won’t be the same between you for a little bit, but that’s okay.

The only thing you can guarantee him is that you’ll be there while his bruises heal.

++

thank you for reading! don’t forget to reblog if you liked it or send me feedback :)

jj maybank taglist + ones who asked to be tagged: @wlwkie , @jjjmaybank , @shawnssongs , @hopelesswritingxd , @newsiestrash123 , @millie-753 , @thatsonobx , @jjtheangel , @obxkie, @baileysb1tch, @ohbx , @babysbestlife , @psychicforest , @fanficscuziranout , @maebanks , @diverdown06, @pogue-writings , @maybankdreams , @thelocalpogue , @maybe-maybanks , @dpaccione , @teenwaywardasgardian , @extratragic , @pixelated-pogues , @kitluvs1 , @a-brooding-bird , @ilovejjmaybank , @damonsalvawhore27 , @beth-winchester21 , @danicarosaline , @sunwardsss , @outerbanksbro , @collecting-stories , @thebendslikebendover , @maybebanks , @jjxobx

(also just want to say that I posted part one a little over a month ago and I only had one person on my taglist, now look at all of you! thank you 🥺)

[slytherinliththorne]

Lith Thorne’s Profile

New Template by  @cursebreaker-lilith​​

~BASICS~

Name: Ailith Thorne Rosas.

Nicknames: Lith, Witchling.

Name Meaning: Idk man I don’t remember :b

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/her

Age: 16

Birthday: December 10

Zodiac: Sagittarius

Blood Status: Half-Blood

Sexuality: Biromantic asexual

Ethnicity/Nationality:  Mexican

~APPEARANCE~

Body:

Height: 1.65

Build: Slim

Eyes: Golden

Hair: White

Skin: White

Misc:  She has a rune in her chest product of her curse. A small scar in her forehead from when she was little and fell, it’s almost unnoticeable.

Material Items:

Clothing: Hogwarts uniform mostly. Lith has almost no fashion sense, so she resorts to comfy hoodies, plain shirts and jeans. She also owns a few stylish and girly clothes, but won't use them unless necessary.

Accesories: An amethyst earing in later years, a necklace with a feather of Talbott’s and a teeth of Jacob.

In their school bag: Her sketchbook, pens, pencils and chalks, a deck of cards, her wand, a woven bracelet,  her amethyst charm that becomes an earring in later years.

Reference:

Face claim: None

Voice claim: None

~PERSONALITY~

Traits:

Positive:

Lucky: For some reason, Lith has super good luck for the most trivial things, like managing to get a cauldron just before Potions class starts because she forgot hers. She assumes it must be the universe’s compensation for cursing her.

Resourceful: To any problem she encounters, from a forgotten homework to escaping death, she will always have a set of solutions already elaborated in her mind. They might not always work as she wants, but they certainly save her ass.

Intelligent: She is a nerd and an overachiever. She enjoys learning and hyperfixates on a lot of interesting subjects during the course of her life.

Neutral:

Introverted: While she can handle big groups, Lith gets stressed out quickly. She prefers being on her own or with a few friends.

Daydreamer: Lith’s head is always on the clouds, she has whole worlds inside, but never actually gets to express them, not that she minds. She also has a very vivid imagination.

Negative:

Insecure: She gains more confidence as she grows older, but she will always doubt her abilities and her own worth.

Workaholic: No matter what she does, she has to give her best. That causes many sleepless nights and some eyebags once in a while.

No emotional intelligence: When it comes to matters of the heart, she has no clue how to proceed. She finds it difficult to read the mood of a room or identify when someone is feeling down. In the same way that she has a hard time figuring out her own emotions and naming them.

Description:

Something something I’ll write it later

Other:

Likes: Solitude, art, books, muggle trinkets, sweets, winter.

Dislikes: Blood supremacy, loud places, summer, heat.

MBTI: INTP

Alignment: Neutral Good

~HOGWARTS~

Hogwarts House: Slytherin.

OWL CLASSES:

Astronomy: E

Charms: O

DADA: E

Flying: A

Herbology: A

History of Magic: O

Potions: A

Transfiguration: E

OWL ELECTIVES:

Care of Magical Creatures: A

Apparition: O

Divination: A

NEWT CLASSES:

Charms: O

Transfiguration: A

History of Magic: E

Extracurriculars:

Art

Muggle art

Best Classes:

Charms: Lith was taught charms by Jacob since he began Hogwarts when he noticed his sister had a particular proficiency with them, so when Lith arrived she was a bit ahead of her peers and continued to hone her skills on more advanced charms on her own.

History of Magic: Lith has always been a History nerd and History of Magic was a class she enjoyed and easily excelled in. Not much because of the Professor but Rowan and the study groups they would organize.

Worst Classes:

Flying: When in her human form, she is terrified of heights and hates flying.

Herbology: Lith and plants is something that is just not meant to be.

Favorite Professors:

Silvanus Kettleburn: He is eccentric, he is encouraging and he cares not about the world except for his beloved magical creatures. Lith admires his dedication and appreciates a non conventional teacher like him.

Patricia Rakepick: While Lith never fully trusted the curse breaker, she would be lying if she said that she did not enjoy Rakepick’s classes. She was probably the best professor of DADA she ever had.

Least Favorite Professors:

Severus Snape: Despite being her Head of House, Lith never liked Snape. He could mean well and she would be grateful for that but please be at a minimum distance of 6 feet apart. His attitude was the opposite of encouraging and she hated it.

Madam Hooch: She is scary :(( please don’t yell at her for not knowing how to fly she doesn’t need a broom anyway ;-;.

Affiliations/Organizations:

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Slytherin House

The House of Thorne

Circle of Khanna

The Werewolf Support Squad (with Jae, Talbott, Chiara and Rowan)

The Silver Coven (with Summer Charn and Catherine Stark)

Professions:

Freelance curse breaker.

Independent Rescuer.

Part-time artist and painter.

~MAGIC~

1st Wand:

Willow wood

10

Surprisingly swishy

Unicorn hair core

“Willow is an uncommon wand wood with healing power, and I have noted that the ideal owner for a willow wand often has some (usually unwarranted) insecurity, however well they may try and hide it. While many confident customers insist on trying a willow wand (attracted by their handsome appearance and well-founded reputation for enabling advanced, non-verbal magic) my willow wands have consistently selected those of greatest potential, rather than those who feel they have little to learn. It has always been a proverb in my family that he who has furthest to travel will go fastest with willow.” (Pottermore.)

2nd Wand:

Macpalxochitl wood

113/4

Slightly Yielding

Huactli feather core

Disclaimer: this is my own lore.

Macpalxochitl, or the Devil’s Hand Tree, became a popular wood to make wands out of when the afrancesamiento of Mexico began. Old chroniclers would often refer to this tree as “worthy of any castle and palace”, so it was sought by wizards of high status. Nowadays it’s existence is very rare and only a few wandmakers are allowed to handle this tree. Wands of this wood tend to be stubborn, but they will remain loyal to their first owner. It is said that it’s better suited to healing magic, but that doesn’t mean it’s not able to turn to the Dark Arts.

The Huactli  is a strange eagle-like bird that feeds on snakes. Its peculiarity is that it’s is able to speak the language of men and predict their future. It is said that if you hear it laugh, it means good luck, but if it mutters sadly, it can translate in danger, sickness and death. Wands of this core make powerful spells, but are often unpredictable and difficult to tame. Their loyalty is easily gained and easily lost, though this may vary depending on the wood. 

Boggart 

Form: A big twisted grackle like humanoid with bright golden eyes.

Riddikulus: The grackle suddenly doing the chicken dance.

Amorentia

What they smell: Hot chocolate, books and oil painting (turpentine lmao).

What they smeel like to others: Mint, paint and parchment.

Patronus

Form: Jaguar (for Jacob), Eagle (after Talbott).

Memory: Family reunions on her Mother’s side of the family. All her cousins running around while the adults played cards.

What they see in the Mirror of Erised: Jacob and her, side by side, with the marks of their curse erased from their chests. As the years pass, more people are added into the picture behind them, like Chiara, Rowan, Talbott and Jae. After Rowan dies, their image takes Jacob’s place by Lith’s side.

~FAMILY~

Father: Daniel Thorne.Pureblood wizard.

Curly white hair (not due to the curse tho), white skin and golden eyes. Her dad is her greatest supporter, anything she wants to do he is right behind her cheering for her. He is a little bit eccentric but he loves to indulge his children's interests and spoil them. However, he is not available in the emotional department, he doesn’t know how to deal with those problems.

Mother:  Perla Rosas Villareal.

Muggle. Curly brown hair, brown skin and brown eyes. Her mom is strict but loving. Lith always seeks her for emotional support, she listens patiently and offers help only when asked. She is the one who makes her question things and they often get into arguments because of that.

Brother: Jacob Thorne Rosas

Half-blood wizard. The reason for all this mess. Curly silver hair, brown skin and golden eyes. An introverted and sweet guy, but very naive and trusting. The relationship between the Thorne siblings had always been good. Sure, they fought and argued, but they got along pretty well. After the Vaults, Lith became wary of her own brother, but when it all ended they began to reconstruct their relationship, though it will always be damaged.

Pets:

Onyx (Grackle): He is not exactly her pet, he is the other half of her soul aka her Companion.

Nox: A black cat that stayed back at home with her parents.

~FRIENDS~

Best friends:

Rowan Khanna

Chiara Lobosca

Jae Kim

Good friends:

Badeea Ali (they are art rivals but in a friendly way)

Charlie Weasley

Bill Weasley

Tulip Karasu

Friends:

Penny Haywood

Barnaby

Murphy

Andre

It’s Complicated:

Love Interests:

Talbott Winger (he is the only one I have a description for atm, the others are in another post if I remember correctly lol)

They met when Lith was trying to break her curse via the animagus potion, a thing that obviously didn’t work.

After the failure of the potion (of which Talbott is not aware), they began to notice they shared similar hiding spots, such as the Owlery, and started to acknowledge each other’s existence by simply saying hello.

Then Lith started to get closer again, asking him about the potion and being an animagus. He got suspicious and ended up discovering Chiara and Lith were trying to turn Jae into an animagus to accompany them during Chiara’s werewolf transformation.

He agreed to help them and became a member of the Werewolf Support Squad, a little bit against his will but he warmed up to them eventually.

They started to get close during those night escapades. They hung out more together (with the Squad) even after the full moons.  

Recovering Talbott’s necklace was the first time they got close one on one. It was also the moment they began to develop feelings for each other, even if they couldn’t name them yet.

They like being alone together, and started acting as a couple before they actually became one.

The moment Talbott realizes he has fallen for Lith is a morning after the full moon, when they are all in the Room of Requirement trying to get some sleep and the only thing he can look at is her.

For Lith it takes more time to realize her massive crush. It happened when Talbott fell asleep in the library while studying together. Tulip comes in and says something like “could you tell your boyfriend to wake up, Lith Thorne? We are having a House meeting soon.” Lith’s like “he is not my boyfriend tho??” and Tulip just answers “Really? Thought you were dating for months.” And leaves. That’s the moment when Lith looks at sleeping Talbott and omg he is cute and we certainly do look like a couple oh fuck.

Yet neither of them thinks the other is interested, so they continue like normal.

Until they stay behind in the Room of Requirement one time and they accidentally confess and bam guess they are a real couple now.

They graduate. Talbott gets his own place and works as an auror, Lith travels the world as a curse breaker. They meet sometimes and go on dates.

The year of Voldemort’s uprising, they have a fight and they both go their separate ways, though they never once mention breaking up.

They reunite in the Battle of Hogwarts, Talbott almost dies and they apologize to each other.

Lith moves in with Talbott after that and they marry and adopt two kittens.

Dormmates:

Merula Snyde

Ismelda Murk

Rowan Khanna

Doesn’t interact:

Merula Snyde

Ismelda Murk

Diego Caplan

Bea Haywood

Enemies:

Merula Snyde (formerly)

Patricia Rakepick

R

~STORY~

Childhood: 

Lith was born in a middle low class family in the Valley of Mexico, with a malediction in her blood. Her early childhood consisted of playing with the children in the same street and Jacob. Since insecurity was still not that high in the city, her mom would let them go out of the house on their own. They attended a public elementary school until Jacob received his letter. After that, Lith couldn’t bother with school anymore but was forced to attend. As she grew up, children started to distance themselves from her, all the neighbourhood thought it was suspicious that her brother had gone to a boarding school when they barely had the money to pay for all their expenses. It got worse when Jacob disappeared.

HOGWARTS:

1st Year: Befriends Rowan, Ben, Chiara and Penny. Makes enemies with Merula. Finds Ice Vault. The Werewolf Support Unit is formed by Chiara, Rowan and Lith.

2nd Year: Ben Cooper disappears. Befriends Bill Weasley. They enter another common room. They open the Ice Vault.

3rd Year: Befriends Tulip, Barnaby and Talbott. Tries the Animagus potion. Attempt to turn Jae into an animagus. The Werewolf Support Unit becomes the Werewolf Support Squad with new members Jae and Talbott. They open Fear Vault.

4th Year: Befriends Charlie Weasley. Patricia Rakepick arrives at Hogwarts. Sleepwalking curse. Open Forest Vault. Goes to the Celestial Ball with Rowan and on a “date” with Talbott.

5th Year: Befriends Jae Kim, Badeea Ali, Liz Tuttle and Diego Caplan. Detention in the kitchens. Beatrice Haywood is trapped in the portrait. Rakepick becomes the new DADA teacher. Lith realizes she has feelings for Talbott. They open the Portrait Vault.

6th Year: Ben goes dark. Lith and Talbott start to date. Rowan dies. Meets Ty Blackwood and finds out they are related. Circle of Khanna.

7th Year: Who tf knows?? :))

ADULTHOOD:

After graduation: Lith goes to become a cursebreaker, taking jobs others would not. She quickly gains a reputation among shady witches and wizards. She lives like this for a year, not having a stable place to stay and traveling from country to country carrying only her backpack. She grows tired of it and decides to drop it all. She goes back to Mexico and moves in with a few muggle roomies. She studies plastic arts at a university and graduates early. She goes back to England to return to her curse breaker activities when Voldemort comes back.

Order of the Phoenix / 2nd Wizarding War: Lith never joins the Order of the Phoenix. She becomes an independent Rescuer, working by herself or for third parties (the Order included) to rescue Undesirables and get them out of the country. She even crafter fake papers to get them out. She does get in contact with members of the Order sometimes, like Carewyn Cromwell, who is one of her main contacts within the Ministry. She fights in the Battle of Hogwarts and saves Talbott’s life after reuniting with him.

Post-War: She decides she has had enough adventures for a while and moves in with Talbott, who quits as an auror and becomes a poet. They get married in a small ceremony which basically was just signing the papers and getting dinner with friends afterwards. After Jacob dies and her nephew Icarus is left orphaned, she takes him in with Talbott and they all move in with Ty at his much bigger home. Lith returns to her curse breaking job to support the whole family, since she doesn’t want Ty to pay for all of their expenses. Charlie moves in too after dating Ty for a while, which was a surprise for all. And they all live together whoo.

Old Age & Death: After retiring definitely, Lith dedicates the rest of her life to art. She even sells some of her works. She paints until her hair starts to turn black and she grows feathers, she paints until her arms don’t obey her anymore. She dies on her bed, with her precious Companion resting on her chest, as they both merge together, accompanied by Talbott, Icarus and her loved ones.

MISC

When they were children, Jacob lost one of his fangs during a sudden transformation and a collision with the door. Lith keeps it as a necklace charm and gifted Jacob one of her own feathers. Because of this, she believes the first black quill is the one he carried as a necklace charm too.

Before they start dating, Lith gives Talbott one of her feathers, which he wears alongside her mother’s. Lith also wears one of his as a necklace, but when she grows older she turns it into an earring. This is one of the reasons why people believe they were already together.

Lith has a habit of drawing on her skin, which is why she sometimes has her legs covered in little doodles. She later starts drawing on her friends.

She hoards art supplies.

She is a gambling addict, so she will get intense during exploding snap games. She knows a lot of card games from her Mother’s side of the family, challenge her at your own risk.

She never learned how to drive.

She learned a bit of mexican magic from her cousins, who attended Aztlán (the mexican wizarding school) created by @tsikuri.

She definitely sings in the shower, but not during her Hogwarts years.

Her taste in music is broad, listening to almost anything except banda.

She has a sweet tooth and cannot stand spicy food, causing the teasing from her whole family, who all, as proud Mexicans, eat chili with everything.

After she graduates, her schedule shifts entirely. She wakes up at 2 pm and goes to sleep at 3 am.

Her love languages are physical touch, but she is too shy and hyper aware to actually approach people and touch them, and gifts.  

If you give her food, you will now be on her “Good human, Angel from Heaven :-:” list. 

Her wand core comes from a bird that can predict death and misfortune, this curiously can be linked to her manifestation of the curse.

Most people think her new wand is ugly, and she did too. But she had to carve it herself to obtain it from an old Mexican wandmaker. The form is also inspired in the flower from the wand wood tree.Lucky: For some reason, Lith has super good luck for the most trivial things, like managing to get a cauldron just before Potions class starts because she forgot hers. She assumes it must be the universe’s compensation for cursing her.

[love-sapphirerose]

Yashahime: Princess Half-Demon Episode 23

https://www.animenewsnetwork.com/review/yashahime-princess-half-demon/episode-23/.170583

For me, a key part of writing these weekly reviews is breaking down the plot and themes of each episode. Now, I'm trying my best, dear readers, but more so than even the worst of the episodes that preceded it, “The Princesses Strike Back” really does feel like a bunch of random scenes that were haphazardly slapped together with no rhyme or reason to speak of. I'd be lying if I told you that I fully understood what was even going on, by the end of things, but I guess I'll give it a shot?

We open in the present, with Mr. Kirin bumping into Sota and his little family to ominously inquire about Towa's whereabouts. Here is where I will be as fair as I can possibly be and highlight the one moment of the episode I liked, where Sota blames Towa's extended absence on a medley of random illnesses, just like Kagome's folks did back in the day for her. That was a cute callback, and what I wouldn't give for a version of Yashahime where we got more connections to the original series like it. Mr. Kirin also takes a moment to point out the spooky demon comet in the sky to Sota, but Sota can't even see it, so the only reason this scene exists is to establish that Kirinmaru has some kind of cross-temporal connection with his…what? His doppelganger? Descendant? Time clone?

Who cares! The show definitely doesn't, since it immediately transitions to Kirinmaru meeting up with none other than Sesshomaru's Mother, whose name is…”Sesshomaru's Mother”. Very creative. Anyways, here is where Kirinmaru and Sesshomaru engage in some incredibly vague conversation that nearly explains what our villain's motivations are beyond simply murdering SesshMoMaru's grandkids, but nope. That would make too much sense, so the show decides to skip all of that and introduce the Windmill of Time, which as best as I can tell is a completely new thing that is not a holdover from InuYasha, and all of my Googling of “time windmill” only turned up some obscure non-fiction books. What is the Windmill of Time? I don't know! All that Kirinmaru mentions is that Sesshomaru has been seeking something called Akuru's Pinwheel. What is that? I don't know! Later on, we see a kid named Akuru with a pinwheel that Sesshomaru completely ignores so…yeah, no, I've got nothing.

Now, here's where we need to double back a bit; this episode is titled “The Three Princesses Strike Back”, right? What are they striking back against? That one, at least, is simple enough to track: The girls are taking the fight back to Zero, and Setsuna even has the mysterious “Blood Blade” to add to her fighting repertoire. The last fight with Zero was a relative highlight of the series' back half, so at this point I was still wondering if the show could manage the same trick of being sort-of decent twice in a row. It turns out the exact opposite happened, instead; once the girls arrive at the burnt-out ruins of the old Grampyasha manor, the episode takes a full nosedive in quality and basically devolves into utter nonsense.

Here's the shakedown: After a bunch of lame banter between the girls, Zero, and Riku, the pirate boy eventually reveals that, now that Moroha and Setsuna have arrived with their Red and Gold Rainbow Pearls, he's gathered every one of the lost gems to return to Zero. She was apparently unaware that this plot was even in place, and reacts very angrily, though she ends up taking the Rainbow Pearls back anyways. Now, the show has repeatedly claimed that the Pearls are the source of her demon powers, except she's had demon powers this whole time, and when she finally does reunite the collection of off-brand Infinity Stones that Yashahime has been building up for twenty-three weeks now, the grand result is…Setsuna killing her in less than a minute, with a single blow from her Blood Blade.

I'm not kidding. After all of the hullabaloo Yashahime raised over “Rainbow Pearl, this” and “Rainbow Pearl, that”, Zero ends up getting one-shotted by Setsuna and dying in Riku's arms. Does…does Yashahime realize how inconceivably stupid this looks from the audience's perspective? It gets worse, too: When she dies, Zero's spirit is whisked off to the underworld, where she gets into a very long back-and-forth with SessMoMaru about the respective pain they suffered over Grampyasha's stepping around over the years. The conversation doesn't go anywhere at all except for Zero freaking out when SeshMoMaru accuses her of indulging in petty “human” emotions. Oh, I guess there's the teensy detail that we learn of how, when Zero dies, Rin also must die, so Sesshomaru pops in to use the Tenseiga's life-giving powers on Zero's corpse.

In all of this chaos, Rin wakes up with the goofiest look on her face for all of five seconds or so, and then immediately dozes off without a single word when Zero comes back to life. Rin isn't the only victim of the episode's truly terrible artistic gaffes, though; there's one shot of Zero's dead body that literally looks as if someone cropped a JPEG of the character from a different scene into the frame, and then flipped it on its side to make it look dead. It has to be seen to be believed:

Look, I know it's COVID times, and I know that animation is one of the most difficult and underpaid jobs pretty much anywhere, but for real. Yashahime. What the heck are we doing here? And then, when Zero wakes up and angrily demands the Rainbow Pearls from Riku, despite them being just a couple of feet away on the ground, only to have the about-face interrupted by Kirinmaru descending from heaven like some kind of Hot Topic Emo Demon Jesus? I ask again: Just what in the heck are we doing, Yashahime?

The preview for “Sesshomaru's Daughter” has an ominous mood that goes so far as to foreshadow that Setsuna is going to die, and it bills itself as “The final episode”. On the one hand, please God, yes, let this finally be over! On the other hand, there is no universe wherein Yashahime can satisfactorily wrap up its story in a mere 22 minutes. We're one week away from the finale, and I'm not even sure that the story has started, yet. I don't know what I fear more: The possibility that Yashahime might truly attempt to conclude this terrible, terrible story for good in just one week, or the possibility that there might be more weeks, months, or even years of Yashahime yet to come…

Odds and Ends

• I damn near forgot to mention that, when Zero is revived and raging at Sesshomaru, Towa's inner-monologue pops in, and she muses, “Living in the world is hard. If you don't follow the set rules, you're treated as an outcast. I was so tired of it when I was in the other world. What Zero is feeling now is probably like how I felt back then.” This is, generously, one of the most inane and incompetent bits of writing I've seen in, God, I don't know how long. It's even worse than that wretched non-sequitur about Towa being too addicted to her cellphone from Episode 14, and that's really saying something. I'm far more accustomed to Yashahime's flagrant, spiteful disregard for “making sense” and “letting its characters sound like functional human beings”, so I guess it didn't hit me quite as hard.