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darklydeliciousdesires · 10 months ago

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London Will Burn - Chapter Ten.

Sorry it's a day late, bambinos! Normal posting schedule will resume as of Friday. I wanted to give everyone the chance to catch up since I posted last week's instalment late, too.

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine

Tag list - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed

Words - 4,000

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI.

Absorbing the shock, it was all Sean could do not to storm over to where Rin and her family were gathered and demand she give him answers. It added up, undoubted was the maths in the equation that the child with eyes that exactly matched his own, who would have been about six, meaning she’d been conceived on that weekend he’d spent with her, was in fact his daughter. It fitted. It explained why she’d vanished.

Why the fuck had she kept it from him?

Why the fuck did she still continue to keep it from him?

He knew why, but his anger got in the way of logic. The only thing to penetrate it was the sudden feeling of a wet nose at his fingertips, followed by a familiar miffed grunt. Looking down, he saw Butch, ball in mouth, ready for it to be thrown once more.

As the rage in him subsided, a myriad of emotions began to swirl, taking the ball and throwing it once more, finally tearing his eyes away from the child, dressed in her school uniform beneath a thick, winter coat. His child. He dropped his head and sped up while walking past where they were congregated, hoping the distance from one side of the path over to the small playground area meant he wouldn’t be seen.

That did not mean, however, that this would be something he’d easily let go of. Rin would feel every ounce of his ire, once she’d actually confirmed to him if the child was definitely his.

Setting off over the grass to meet his dog en route back, he took the ball and clipped Butch back onto his lead, being greeted by a look of indignance that playtime was seemingly over. “I am certain that fucking tooth of yours sticks out even further when you’re pissed off.” he spoke, reaching to scratch his forehead wrinkles. “If I sported a snaggletooth, mine probably would be right now, too.”

He took the long walk back to his car, loading Butch in the rear and clipping his seatbelt fastener onto the back of his harness, the dog lying down with a soft snort. The comfy ride of the Audi Q5 meant he was asleep ten minutes into the journey home, only stirring when half an hour after that, the car pulled up in the parking garage back in Canary Wharf.

For the duration of the drive, he’d mulled over how to handle the sight he’d been presented with at the park, wanting to actually make the right choice for once. Good choices and Sean Wallace didn’t always go hand in hand. In fact, more often than not, his impulsive nature dictated that they were the furthest from good.

“Catherine, I need to speak with you. Would you be free for lunch on Friday?”

Civil, to the point, adult like. He was proud of himself. While waiting on a reply, he took a shower, sorting Butch his food before ordering the usual Thai delicacies to satiate his own hunger.

“I’m busy.”

“Next Monday, perhaps?”

“Busy then, too.”

“Any fucking time before Easter, Catherine?” Trust Sean to not take her rebuffing well.

“Can you not just call me to have this discussion?”

“No. It must be face to face.”

It was while he was mid-way through eating a Thai red curry when she finally replied. “I’ll check my diary when I have a moment and get back to you.”

He waited a week for her to do this alleged diary consulting, hearing nothing. The proverbial bull appeared to need taking by the horns, it would seem.

The gates to Mulford Hall’s private driveway still required a check in with security, but the large, middle-aged man who had sat within the small booth the last time Sean had pulled up beside it was now replace by another. A large, Kenyan other, to be exact.

“And you are?” he rumbled, lifting his chin.

“Sean Wallace, here to see Miss Cavanagh.”

The man reached for the telephone, eyes flitting over Sean. “I’ll be the judge of that.” Pressing a button, he waited, leaning back while letting his fingers skim over the semi-automatic holstered at his hip, dark eyes returning to Sean for a second and narrowing. “Boss, hello. I got a Sean Wallace here to see you.”

There was a pause. “She say you must wait for her call and to go home.”

“Tell her that unless she lets me up, I shall start making noise over the identity of her child’s father. Loud noise.”

Marcus relayed the message with a huff, waiting. “Okay, you may go up.”

He smirked, shifting the car into drive as the gates began to slowly open. “I thought she might say that.” Driving through, he reminded himself over and over to keep calm, that losing his temper was the last thing he should resort to, that no matter how enraged he was, calmness was the more conducive approach.

Pulling into the courtyard, he saw Rin exit the house and stride over to the car. The defiance she carried herself with immediately sent his irritation up by a few notches.

“I think we need to talk,” he began, getting out and shutting the door with a heavy clunk, turning to face her. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”

“How did you even find out?” she demanded, narrowing her eyes. “Who the hell told you?”

“Nobody, I saw you both in the park just over a week ago. She looked right at me, and it was my eyes I saw. Doing the calculations over her age, and it points a very definite finger to the fact that I’m her father. If I hadn’t, your lack of a poker face and need to discover if you’ve been betrayed just sealed it nicely for me.”

The sneer in his tone set her on edge, Rin wanting nothing more than to punch him in the face for it. For much more, in fact. Her nostrils flared in annoyance, Sean continuing. “Now, why didn’t you tell me?”

She shrugged, sniffing. “It was none of your business back then.”

His lips tightened, his shoulders squaring. “I fathered your child, that makes it very much my business.”

“Not when you were set to sell out her mother’s dignity for a business deal. Honestly, do you truly think I wanted a man like that near her at the time? Can you honestly blame me for keeping it from you?”

“Yes, I fucking can, because she’s my fucking daughter and I had a right to see her, to know her!” There went his cool, flying far from any tentative grasp.

Her features twisted, fury beginning to pulse. “You had no right at all, Sean! Not after what you did to me!”

“I had to, Catherine. By the end of that weekend, I didn’t want to, but I had to, because...”

“Because if you hadn’t, you’d have lost the capitol you needed to buy a new location to launder through, and the safe port for the fuck load of heroin that needed an alternative dock to port in. Yeah, I know why you had to. You could have just let me talk to him, you know. I’d have convinced him, but no.” Her eyes narrowed, her jaw tightening. “You fucked me over because you wanted to. Get off on it, did you? Taking advantage of an eighteen-year-old, hmm?”

“Don’t give me that shit,” he spat angrily, cracking his knuckles in agitation. “You were far from naive. You were raised by a man just as cutthroat as the one whom raised me.”

Swallowing down her desire to match his anger, she took a breath, sniffing as she thinned her lips between her teeth. “My heart was.” Pausing, she saw it in his face, the very thing she was looking for, but had no real care over whether she received or not. Remorse. It was a few too many years late in the coming. “I suppose I should thank you really, for the lesson you taught me, one that I will pass onto my daughter when she’s older, too. Never let your emotions be swayed by a man who shows all the hallmarks of such deeply entrenched psychopathy.”

He looked accepting of her assessment, shame seeming to veil him as he looked down upon her, sighing sadly. “I am truly sorry for what I did to you. I am. It was a mistake that I haven’t ever not regretted.” He paused for a moment, in her silence of absorbing his apology. “She’s the reason, isn’t she? The other reason you returned me to my former status, the one you said I didn’t deserve to know, back when I first saw you again three months ago.”

“That’s correct,” she confirmed, “but on my terms. I want my daughter to know her father, but most certainly not the man who I watched you become from afar. God fucking knows, I’m probably bordering on mental myself, but I thought maybe, if I could sort you out in the midst of ironing out the fucking mess you and half the other fuckwits left London in, then maybe the old Sean might return. The Sean you might still be capable of being.”

He felt his chest tighten in an instant, that no matter how badly he’d hurt her, hurt himself, pulled apart the threads of his own life, she still had hope he could redeem himself. “Perhaps if I’d known about her, that might have come sooner. My priorities have always been centred around the health of my family. Surely you knew that?”

“I didn’t know what the fuck I knew about you, after that weekend, and then you turning on me!”

“I told you I didn’t want to.”

“But you did!” Her temper flared beyond her need or desire to control it, her jaw flexing as she ground her back teeth together, her fury literally biting. “You hurt me, Sean! I let you in, more than I ever had with actual boyfriends, and you fucking hurt me worse than anybody ever has! We could have been something, but you just threw it all the fuck away, didn’t you?”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he turned away from her for a second. “I did. There isn’t a day that passes where I don’t regret that, either.”

“Why?” she scoffed, folding her arms. “It got you everything you wanted.”

He reached for her, thumb skimming her cheek. “And lost me something I truly needed.”

She felt her heart quicken, enjoying the comfort of his touch for a mere second before knocking his hand away. “Don’t. No. I’m off the table forever to you. Her? Maybe, if you continue to behave yourself.”

He nodded. “Do I at least get to know her name?”

“Tiger Lily.” Her favourite flower, he remembered. “We just call her Tiger for short mostly. Believe me, it suits her personality.”

He smiled at that, imagining her to be tiny and mighty, much like her mother. “When can I see her, Rin? I want to be there for her, provide for her. I have lost so much in the way of family, and the life I am attempting to rebuild very much has a place for her within it.”

His earnest softness stirred her, hearing his pledge to be involved in his daughter’s life, but not enough that she’d ease up on him. “When I see fit, and not a moment before.”

Indignance at being rebuffed rose within him, but he knew the more he demanded, the further she would dig her heels in. His continued commitment to not making bad choices borne of his impulsive nature had to be applied here, too. “Okay. I shall await you getting in contact, then.”

He turned to his car, Rin beginning to twitch in discomfort, resting her weight from foot to foot a couple of times as she swung her arms down from folded. “Sean?” He turned back, eyebrows slightly raised. “St James Park, 2pm next Sunday. We’ll meet you by the playground. You’re just my friend, though. You shan’t be revealed as her father until I decide.”

His mouth flickered, upturning. “Thank you.”

She had to give him something, she realised, no matter how much the scar tissue from his burns still ached within her chest. Since her reinstating him three months prior, he’d been flawless, utterly faultless in the way he had resurrected both himself and the Wallace Corporation. He deserved something, although as she walked back into the house, she wasn’t sure whether her lenience had been too swiftly delivered.

“I heard most of that from the window.” Her mother’s tone told a thousand more words than she actually spoke.

Rin sighed, moving to the fridge and pouring a vodka, feeling the weight of Sokoro’s hand press supportively to her shoulder. She paused, covering it with her own for a moment, leaning into his wide chest. “You handled it well, boss. I leave you with your mother now, it is not my place to be in a family talk.”

She smiled thinly, the Kenyan giant leaving the kitchen, Rin wishing he’d have stayed. “I take it you’re about to detail that I was wrong for allowing him to see her?”

“I’ll flippin’ say you were!” she began, one of the stools at the island being pulled out rapidly, the legs scraping across the floor. “Pour me a drink, too. I need it after that. You should have stuck to your guns and made him work for it a little harder. Then again you were never very competent in making that man work for anything, were you?”

A better relationship they might have had, but Diane still had her predisposition for making snide remarks. The point she was making was not lost upon Rin at all, who viewed her with incredulity as she turned with the vodka bottle, slamming the fridge shut as she paced to the cupboard containing the glasses. “I had sex with him, mum. Deal with it. I’m not as precious as you over the act of pleasure, and I never have been.”

“You might have avoided this whole fiasco if you were.”

Oh, she just couldn’t help herself. “And if I had, I wouldn’t have Tiger. I wouldn’t trade the outcome of me being careless over contraception for anything. Not even a better outcome. And to Sean’s credit, in the last few months he’s worked his arse off. The Wallace Corporation is in the process of three new builds, two more in the works. We’ve expanded construction to Birmingham and Manchester, too. For twelve weeks, that’s good going.”

“You’re going soft. I knew you would, as soon as you saw him again.”

Her grip upon the Stolichnaya bottle tightened, her lips pursing. “I have not gone soft. I want Tiger to know her father, and so far, he’s done a good job of proving himself to be capable of being just that; her father. Me? As you probably overheard, I am not a part of it. This was always my intention, mum. I want her to know him.”

Diane was nothing if not persistent in her stance. “But so soon? You really should have made him suffer for longer.”

Pouring the drinks, Rin returned the bottle to the fridge, adding ice and pushing a glass across the counter to her mother. “Just because I am allowing him limited access to his daughter does not mean I am softening. It is still my proverbial boot upon his neck, still my line he toes, still my weight he operates beneath. He shan’t ever forget that either.”

Diane sniffed, raising both her eyebrows and glass. “Just as long as he never does, Catherine.” She departed the kitchen, leaving Rin standing there for a second before the weight of it all bore down, flopping onto the shiny, lemon disinfectant-scented marble with a sigh. The next weight she felt was of two warm hands grasping her shoulders, kneading softly.

“Am I being too soft, Sok? Is she right, or is she being a huge shit bag?” She didn’t think her right hand would have moved too far away.

“Hey, hey,” he chided softly, pulling her up to stand straight, “she is still your mother, eh?”

She sighed. “I know, but is she?”

“You know as well as my boss, you are my close friend too, eh?”

She smiled. “I do.”

“And you know I always tell you how it is, yes?”

“Yes.”

“You could have made white man squirm for a little longer, eh, but I understand why you did not. You know how it is to be without a father, and you do not want that for little Tiger. You do this for her, I see. Not for him.”

At least Sokoro understood where she was coming from. “Thank you, for seeing things how they are.”

His eyes narrowed a tiny fraction, the corner of his mouth tugging up. “Maybe a little for him, no?”

“No.”

“Sure?”

She avoided his dark eyes, taking a gulp of the chilled, neat vodka. “Definitely not.”

He had the respect to leave it there, but he knew. “Do you want me to come with you to this meet, eh?”

“Yes. Wait in the car for us though, so you’re nearby but not looming over us.”

He nodded. “Understood, boss. Now, my stomach is rumbling, eh! Where is the chef? I would like to be fed now, yes.”

He was getting very used to a life with people to do things for him, her dear Sokoro. Back at home, he happily pitched in to assist (or hamper) Anna, his wife of nine years, a German backpacker who had arrived in Kenya and then never left after meeting him. They lived in a house upon the reserve, Anna’s background in zoology meaning she was a perfect choice to work with the animals there, working her way up to managing the breeding program. She had called only five hours ago to joyfully inform Rin that the four pregnant lionesses had all birthed a healthy litter of cubs the night before.

Stretching her arms out to ease the residual tension of the last twenty minutes, Rin walked to the phone, calling for Roger to come down and begin preparing their dinner. After eating a delicious meal of griddled salmon and vegetables (and chicken for Tiger, who couldn’t stand that particular fish) she saw to bathing and dressing her daughter ready for bed, heading back downstairs to her office.

It had once been her father’s, the space now drastically changed from how it had looked before. She had intended to keep it exactly how it was, but it proved much too painful, to see such reminders of him everywhere. The solid oak and dark red walls had been replaced for pastel green, bird and floral print wallpaper, and white and light oak furniture, giving the space an airy feel.

Her father often liked to intimidate with decoration, the oppressiveness of the office very much in keeping with his personality. She used to coin it the belly of the dragon for good reason.

Taking a seat at her desk, she jiggled the mouse until her computer came out of standby, ready to continue organising her current project. She was arranging a charity dinner in aid of her wildlife reserve, one of those very fancy, three hundred pounds a head affairs in aid of raising money for the African wildlife she now solely presided over, despite no longer living out in Africa.

Of course, with Rin, there was another goal. The funds derived from the night’s hopefully generous contributions from London’s elite would be matched with injections of cash needing to be laundered. It made sense, since the CWR (Cavanagh Wildlife Reserve) was a charity, for all intents and purposes. The deals she was in the process of making with people in South America needed a fund to be run through, her reserve being the chosen destination.

After completing the guest list of a total of two hundred and seventy-three people, she sent the details to the printing firm to send out invitations, knowing most of her associates were such old school types, a well-appointed, neatly printed invitation arriving by post would be more appreciated than the more modern method of an e-invite.

Once done, she poured herself another drink, sitting back and resting her bare feet up on the desk, getting a small pang of annoyance when remembering her mother’s earlier words. “Then again you were never very competent in making that man work for anything, were you?”

“Slut shaming. So very you, mother darling.” Oh, how she’d really, really come down hard on her at the time, Rin remembered, when she’d revealed the news of her pregnancy to her and her father. They both had, Rin not knowing which way to turn, having her usually on side, protective father roaring in utter outrage at how she could be so stupid.

“You fucking open your legs to that scumbag in the first place, and then don’t have any bloody sense to use protection? Fucking hell, Catherine! I thought we raised you with more brains than that, girl, I really did!”

They had, too. In the midst of dealing with the heartbreak of his betrayal, obtaining the morning after pill had been the farthest thing from her mind. So far, in fact, that it wasn’t until her period didn’t arrive that it smacked her square in the chest, what she had forgotten to do in the aftermath of a weekend being shagged ragged by the man of her dreams.

Remembering it, him, the way his skin felt against hers, the heat of their connection, the fact that she hadn’t ever, or since felt a dick as perfect as his, she let herself be transported back to each moment he’d ever been inside her, just for a few seconds. God, the way that man fucked. He was unlike all others, and she hated him for it.

Coming back out from where her daydream had led her, she tried to shake the thoughts of Sean from her mind, but they clung on. Sleeping in his arms, chasing him around the house with a bow and arrow as they’d laughed. She’d never heard him laugh like that, and it made her chest flutter still.

“Bastard.”

Switching off her computer, she tidied her desk, finishing her drink. She’d be up at five in the morning to go for her usual six-mile run, Rin loathing any form of gymnasium-based exercise, but loving to pound her feet to the terrain in order to stay in shape. An early night was definitely in order.

Her childhood bedroom was still her destination, although changed in decoration from pale yellow to a pastel blue, the furniture remaining the same but furnishings a little more befitting of a grown woman. After cleansing her face and brushing her teeth, she crawled beneath the duvet, closing her eyes. Falling into dreams, she was eighteen again, her bed occupied by the man whom she’d tried in vain to cease thinking about, lying with her head on his chest as they’d talked. Well, talked, and...

“You’re going to make it fall off, you know,” he’d told her, eyeing his cock after she’d begun playing with it again.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she’d purred, moving to sit astride him, kissing the centre of his chest. “It isn’t going anywhere, other than back inside me. I think I make it very happy.”

The way he’d looked at her, pulling her into a kiss, his gaze had told her strongly that it wasn’t just his cock that she made happy.

Waking with a start, she grumbled with agitation.

“Get out of my head, you fucking twat.”

It had been seven years. If he hadn’t left it by then, then much to her indignation, she had to admit he likely never would.

#sean wallace fanfiction #sean wallace smut #gangs of london fanfiction #gangs of london #sean wallace x ofc #sean wallace fanfic #sean wallace fic #joe cole #london will burn #sean and rin #gangs of london fanfic #gangs of london fic

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wounds-seen-and-unseen · 2 months ago

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Memorio Occultae In Nubio Occultas- 1: The First Cloud

All right, here we begin!

Please refer to this post for the requisite context-building for this fic.

Trigger warnings: Discussions of dementia, character breaking down, character nearly panicking, implied self-blame.

Chapter under the cut.

Tag list: @dreamer-in-sleep and @i-eat-worlds @themorguepoet @abstractmarshmallow

Please DM/ask/comment if you want to be added to/removed from my tag list.

“Adrian! Breakfast is ready, dearheart.” Alazne loves this everyday routine, little moments that have hardly changed over the years.

Familiar footsteps patter in the short corridor between their bedrooms and the kitchen. “Just a minute, mama.” He comes into view, curls already defying the combed order they were set in, slinging his stethoscope casually around his throat as he walks.

She sits as he does, his hand automatically reaching for the steaming cup of Boost. One of his little quirks, that he never grew out of the malt based drinks of childhood. “Mmm. Perfect as usual, mama.” She laughs. “Never going to grow up, are you?” He grins back. “You like me the way I am.” “Touché.”

He sobers up then, looking seriously at her. “We have another ophthalmologist appointment today evening. I’ll pick you up, we should be careful with your vision being what it is.” She rolls her eyes. “And there we go, Dr. Everheart is here. You worry too much.” “Mama, there is no harm in being careful. I’ve seen patients suffer quite a bit because they were careless.” He sighs. “I should meet Miss Elaine today, Dr. Sinclair said that her mother is deteriorating…” “and I am not your patient, Dr. Everheart. You’ll have to settle for being my son. You are not taking away my independence just because some patient of yours is struggling. I will not stand for it.”

He is silent for a moment, before he nods. “You’re right. Forgive me, mama. I tend to be rather overprotective because of what I see often at work.” “I know, kiddo. I’ll meet you at the hospital, after your work. We’ll go together for the appointment. Sounds good?” “Yeah.” He looks at his watch. “And that’s my cue, mama, see you later!” He rises and sprints out, waving at her. She smiles with a shake of her head. Her protective little boy.

“Dr. Everheart will see you now, ma’am.” Elaine rises, barely holding back a sigh. Delegated to yet another doctor, are we? I’ll have to start from the beginning, all over again.

She is pleasantly surprised when she walks inside the doctor’s office. A dusky young man rises with a smile as she enters. “Hello, miss Elaine. I imagine that you’d be quite frustrated by this frequent switching, but rest assured, I’ll be handling your mother’s case for the foreseeable future. I hope you don’t mind that I familiarised myself with your mother’s history.” She stares at him for a moment, having expected quite the colder welcome. “Familiarised how?” is all she manages to ask, at a loss how to respond.

Dr. Everheart is happy to answer. “I am Dr. Sinclair’s student. I went over his rendition of her history, although, if you wish to say it in your own words again, I will defer to that.” He shoots her a crinkle-eyed grin. “I supposed you would not want to go through the whole process again, though.” The spark of mischief in his eyes makes her grin, too. “You supposed right, Dr. Everheart.”

“Alright. I’m glad I did, then.” He pauses. “I’ll go through what I feel is the crux of your difficulties caring for Ms. Ariadne, okay? Please feel free to correct me if you wish.” She nods. “Okay. I think that, a major issue you might be facing is that she may be frustrated and, for the lack of a better word, acting out at what is a genuine attempt to take care of her. You might feel overwhelmed and may lose your temper as well.”

This time, when he looks at her, his voice is lower, softer. “Let me start out by saying something very simple. You are not a bad daughter for losing control sometimes. All we can do is try. We make mistakes, and that’s alright.”

Elaine is startled herself by the tears that rise at his gentle affirmation. He puts a hand on her shoulder for a long moment, then quietly steps aside, handing her tissues one after another. When she is sniffling out the last of her tears, managing to mumble out her thanks, he, gentle still, stops her halting attempts. “This is what I am here for. My job is to not only take care of your mother’s needs, but also to provide support to you. I will look for more concrete support options if you wish, but until we find one, my door is open for you.”

“…You’re quite different from the doctors I usually meet, Dr. Everheart.” He laughs. “Believe me, I have been told that a few times.” “With good reason.” “Thank you. Do you need a minute, or shall we go on?” “No, I am already taking up a lot of your time, do go on.” “That’s alright. That is, as I said, what I am here for. Moving on. When you interact with someone who has dementia, you both look at things differently, naturally. We all have our perspectives, obviously. The problem is that for those of us who do not have dementia, it is difficult to grasp their difficulties. They may not be able to verbalise it well.” “Yes, mom struggles with speaking, a lot.” “Which is understandable. That is why, as her doctor, I tried going closer to the source.” “I am afraid I do not understand your meaning, doctor.” Closer to the source? Mom can barely speak, and he’s never met her.

“I read books that people with dementia have written about the disease. If you wish, I can send you those books. If it is too close for comfort, that’s fine as well. I have taken some notes from whatever I have read till now, I’ll share those with you instead, and you can ask me whatever doubts you have.”

She knows she is staring at him again. “You sure do your homework, doctor.” “I try,” he answers simply. “Do you want the books, though, or my notes?” She swallows. “Your notes, if that’s alright, doctor.” “Sure.” In a minute, he quickly AirDrops a handwritten note.

As she reads the short bullet points, there is a knock on the door.

“Yes?” asks Dr. Everheart. “You’re needed slightly urgently, sir. There seems to be a lost and confused patient who came alone for an appointment.” He rises immediately, the door half-opened before he realises she is still in the office. “Oh.” He breathes. “I’ll come along for a bit of the way, doctor, if you don’t mind? I have a few questions.” He nods. “That’s fine,” he says, “if you don’t mind my distraction.” “Not at all.” He nods once more. “Alright.”

He sets off at a fast walk, turning to the staff member who had come. “Details about the patient?” he asks. The lady takes a moment to think.

Elaine takes the moment to speak. “Would you meet mom once? I want to discuss some interventions with her present.” He’s nodding before she finishes her sentence. “I wanted to meet”-

The other lady interrupts him. “Probably early sixties, slightly confused, but otherwise oriented. She has an unusual name. Something like Alayne.” “Alayne? Did she tell you why she’s alone? We specify that all patients should have someone with them.” “Oh, she said her son would meet her here, but she’s forgotten his cell number.” The doctor frowns. “He is probably her emergency contact, you could try her phone.” “She’s left it at home. Oh! Her name is not Alayne. It’s Alazne.”

His eyes blowing wide, barely whispering a hoarse “no…” Dr. Adrian Everheart takes off at a run. Elaine, confused, turns to the lady next to her. “Is the woman his patient?” The other woman shakes her head. “Not that I know of.”

Concerned for the young man who has shown her genuine concern for the first time in what felt like years, she follows quietly.

He’s not hard to follow, although she, too, has to run. People automatically make a way for him, the young man who seems like he is barely able to breathe.

As he skids his way to the emergency front desk, she can clearly hear a woman’s voice. “No, he wouldn’t do that on purpose. Addy is probably just busy, he’ll come. I’m fine, just a little out of place. Please don’t call him, my son is quite the worrier on a good day. I can wait.” So she has a concerned son. Why would he let her come alone though?

Dr. Everheart abruptly stops at the desk, nearly falling. “Oh, sir, it’s not that urgent of an emergency.” He shakes his head, his breaths hardly more than gasps. “Where’s mama?” he asks breathlessly.

Oh. Oh, Lord. Elaine ducks back quietly, but she can clearly hear the receptionist ask “Dr. Everheart? Mama?”

“Addy! Here you are! Oh, you’ve got him all worried, see?” the lady exclaims, chiding the staff. “I told you, Addy wouldn’t just leave me alone.” Her son runs to her, hugging her tight, and Elaine cannot look away.

“Oh, Addy. It’s alright, dearheart, I’m fine. Don’t worry, I’m just a bit forgetful these days. There, kiddo, it’s alright.” He says nothing for a moment, but she can see his face. In that moment, all she can think is that if utter devastation had an accurate representation, it would be the look on the young doctor’s face.

“Here I am,” he echoes, voice husky. “Of course you are. How was your day?” Still holding his mother in an embrace, his chin on her head, her son’s throat clicks in a harsh swallow, lashes rapidly blinking away the sheen in his eyes.

“Good,” he says softly. “My day was good. Shall we go to your appointment? I think we need to talk to Dr. Sinclair.” “I defer to your experience here, dearheart. You know what to do.” “I am sorry, mama, I should have taken better care of you, been in control of this situation, I’m sorry I didn’t do that.” His voice echoes in her mind, gentle and soft, as opposed to husky and contrite. You are not a bad daughter, for losing control sometimes.

And Elaine can look no more.

#fic: memorio occultae in nubio occultas #ch: adrian everheart #adrian everheart #alazne everheart #elaine matthews #tw: discussions of dementia #tw: crying #tw: nearly panicking

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dullweapons · 7 months ago

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okay so since there are a few hylia’s ( i can count about four ? 2 new & 2 from mutuals on side blogs or side muses … im sure there will be more , hell i wanna write a hylia too lol ) so imma write out how ray actually feels about hylia as clear as i can . i don’t really have a problem with hylia myself ? my only problem with her is her being added late into the games but skyward sword is old like me now so im over it . ( i do dislike that we just forgot demise but imma pretend he’s still here hush— @harbingered for my demise 👀 i will pay attention to him i swear )

ray HATES hylia . perhaps the most out of the gods & deities of the world . he curses her & blames her for a lot of things even when she clearly isn’t to blame . he uses her like a scapegoat . someone to point the anger he feels at when there is no one else to blame but himself . he’ll blame her for the troubles zelda goes through , or link or even ganondorf . because he knows hylia . seen her . felt the sting of her magic . saw her bring up the humans to their safe haven in the sky & leave him down there . she didn’t care .

as a child he was taught to worship hylia, as all the children of skyloft settlement were. his family had small statues of her that they gave offerings too . he would pray to her just as his mother told him to . so he was fine with her … maybe a touch annoyed — but that was mostly towards his mother being quite religious & making him repeat hail hylia when he was naughty ( which was often af )

upon being forced into the ancient battle ; his views were forcibly shifted by his father . not by any commands but more due to his father talking about how hylia cares not for him nor any other demons . lamatar believes demise would do right by the demons & monsters ( was that true ? who knows ) . he would beat this idea into ayrin until he began to think it himself .

“ hylia doesn’t care about me. if she did, she would’ve stopped me from joining this war . she wouldn’t have me here …mama says hylia loves us all but no one loves me. she doesn’t either .”

continuing on, ayrin was stuck by the goddess blade causing a horrible scar that glows similarly to TP! ganondorf’s scar. due to it being a holy blade , it couldn’t go away as easily as death or other wounds for the demonic weapon & he was out of battle for weeks. ( visual ref of rays scar here ! ) i have been debating it be hylia who struck him , but it can just be the first link . regardless , he sat there — scared & angry , not just because he failed his father , but hylia hurt . her blade hurts so so much . hylia is pain .

further down the timeline ; he continues to see princesses & queens struggle with their magic or are forced into horrible situations of the cycle born of demise . he sees link , so young forced into battle & losing his childhood only to become a shell . he’s seen ganondorf turned into a monster of anger & greed for what was once a king has become nothing but a pig . if hylia stayed a god perhaps things would be different . perhaps not . regardless, he blames them all : the golden goddesses , hylia & demise . none of them are free from his hate .

but hylia worship has grown strong again by botw & by then — he is a tired , cynical old man . he works hard to make sure his solders are ready for the war that is coming against calamity ganon . he sees the princess struggle to awaken her powers . he scoffs at her & wonders if the blood of the goddess is finally gone from tainting the royal family.

& he prayed to hylia to save them from the calamity when the calamity came & took over all the sheikah technology & his men died trying to get to akkala .

& she did not answer .

so for the hylia rpers i totally understand if you’re like “ damn he a hater idk if i wanna interact “ because he’s never ever gonna warm up to her . also if you wish to discuss what happened between them during the ancient battle please feel free to DM me ! my default does not need to be canon minus 1: ayrin / bby ray going to the war & 2: ray being struck goddess blade . those two are the only requirements — im flexible with anything !

#⸻ ray : about ✦ remember me i ask . remember me i sing ˎˊ˗#( my man the number one hater . the original hater . the OG . )#( he’s has t shirts )

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t1mmytim · 4 months ago

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Hear ye, hear ye!

I will be opening my commissions again in about a month!

If you’d like to “pre-save” a spot on the list, or you’re interested in discussing rates, please feel free to DM me!

Please note, my prices are changing slightly from my previous commission sheet. I will have a proper commission sheet ready for when I officially open again. I’m happy to discuss prices before that if you are interested!

#t1mmytim #my art #digital art #please commission me #commissions #commission art #commission #opening commissions #sonic fanart #sonic oc #sonic fandom #my oc stuff #my ocs #oc #oc art #ocs #sketch #clean sketch #lineart

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prsague · 10 months ago

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PHASE I: INTRODUCTION

A warm greeting to all of you who set foot on this site. Since you’ve found your way here, I can only assume that you’re interested in learning more about me, and I’m ready to share a glimpse.

I am Parissian Erland, but you can simply call me Paris or anything with proper respect. Having reached the age of legal adulthood, I prefer masculine pronouns. I’m astrologically aligned with the scales of Libra, and when it comes to personalities, I align with the archetype of an INTP. As of Demigods, if I were to entertain the possibility that I am descended from a Greek God, Hades’ Cabin 13 might call to me as a potential home.

—

PHASE II: INTEREST

Knowing more about me, these are some of my interests in several things. Who knows, maybe we might have the same interests in common, right?

My tastes in music are diverse and wide-ranging, covering a large number of genres that suit my taste. To elucidate, some of my favorite artists include ENHYPEN, IVE, Sabrina Carpenter, Chappell Roan, Kali Uchis, Reneé Rapp, NIKI, Taylor Swift, Dewa19, Juicy Luicy, 5 Second Of Summer, Conan Gray, and Olivia Rodrigo.

I am also fond of Formula One, with a specific affinity for Scuderia Ferrari as a team and for Charles Leclerc as a driver.

Talking about my pastime activities invariably includes mentioning my passion for reading books. Among my preferred ones are titles like The Song of Achilles, Circe, Once Upon a Broken Heart, the Percy Jackson series, The Sun & Star: Nico Di Angelo Adventure, and works from the Agatha Christie series, while my fascination with movies spans the genres of horror, romance, and fantasy. Pinpointing a single favorite is actually challenging, yet I’m inclined to label Corpse Bride, The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, Everything Everywhere All at Once, Long Live Love, and The Murder on the Orient Express as my top five movies.

Last but not least, I also have a keen interest in poetry, with a particular fondness for the works of poets such as Nizar Qabbani, Franz Kafka, and Mahmoud Darwish.

—

PHASE III: DISCLAIMER

You might recognize me from my previous account, but it’d be wonderful if you avoided discussing any past occurrences.

I express my thoughts freely, occasionally using profanities. Please refrain from following me if you’re under 18 (MDNI), homophobic, or meet the basic criteria for DNFI.

The idea of engaging in conversations with people intrigued me, so feel free to hit me up, as my DMs are always open.

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radonx9 · 1 year ago

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Hey, so update about this:

Didn’t make it to the GZF this year because I was suffering from the worst dental pain I have experienced in my life, so, yeah, didn’t get to sell any of these or attend the actual fest itself unfortunately... :(

That said, I do hope to get HexPulse No.#1 submitted to the Glasgow Zine Library at the end of this month and I’ll probably try and start selling these online directly (so if you’re interested in getting a copy, feel free to dm me saying you’d like to reserve a copy and I can do just that, then when I’m feeling ready to start shipping them out we can discuss shipping and postage details, etc. :]).

Thanks for your patience <3 xoxo

My new zine HexPulse Comix No.#1 is here! :> Featuring short comix and illustrations with my cast of OC's~

I'm gonna be selling these at the Glasgow Zine Fest this weekend, along with my previous zine Rosetta Falls: One Year Anniversary~ I'll probably make both zines available to purchase online some time after the zine fest, so if you're interested in picking up a copy ,watch this space, otherwise I'll see you all at the Glasgow Zine Fest this Saturday and Sunday :]

#radonx9 #hexpulse comix #hexpulse productions #zines #diy #black and white illustration #my comics #my ocs #self publishing #myart

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halfmoondaze · 3 years ago

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hi darling, do you know the feeling when you like someone and the person is smiling/laughing and you just like 🥺🥰🥰🤩 can you write something about jack being whipped and soooo in love that he can't stop staring at you from the other side of the room 😚 tnx mi amor💕

authors note : Im so sorry, I just realized once I finished writing an editing this, that it went exactly what you wanted. I focused more on the part of Jack being whipped. Please feel free to send the ask again if you didn't like it, but I figured I'll post it anyways since its finished. I hope you like it though.

Slide

“Ok we have Jack Harlow here” the radio interviewer announced.

“What’s up?” Jack said.

“Congratulations on your new album”

“Thanks man, I really appreciate it”

“Come Home The Kids Miss You”

As the interview went on, Jack discussed his experience collaborating with Fergie on First Class, collaborating and performing with Kanye West, his music video, and his new album “Come Home The Kids Miss You”.

“Ok so I have to mention this. What’s going on between you and Y/N?”

“I met her backstage at the Grammys. Such a sweetheart” he said showing no emotion behind to create rumors.

“Were you starstruck meeting her for the first time?”

“Hell yeah, you know…she’s been in the industry for a while, and I have a lot of appreciation for her work”

“So…nothing romantic going on?”

“You know…I really look at her like a sister”

Then everyone burst in laughter.

“Can we expect a collab between you two?” the interviewer asked once the laughter died down.

“I mean…who knows?”

It came as no surprise for Y/N when for the last couple of days, social media was flooded with everyone’s reaction to the latest interview.

So, after someone asked Y/N on an Instagram live about Jack, he knew he needed to make a move.

Y/N was in her usual baggy clothes attempting to make boxed brownies at 9 pm while doing an Instagram live while answering fan questions. Most of these being about Jack, which she would ignore. But soon she realized she couldn’t escape him as all the comments that flooded her phone were about “Jack being in her live”.

By the time she finished eating the brownies on camera, she decided to call it a night, end the live and get ready for bed.

“ok bye” she said before abruptly ending the live.

Y/N was doing her nighttime skincare routine when her phone chimed. Upon checking her phone, she realized it was a notification from no other than Jack Harlow on her DMs.

“I’ll cut to the chase. I think you’re cute, can I take you out sometime?” the message read.

She was stunned.

“I don’t know, can you?”

“Ok, I see how it is. I’ll pick you up tomorrow night. Wear sometime cute”

“I’ll be waiting”

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vendetta-if · 2 years ago

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Mods Needed for Discord Server

Hey guys 👋 As I’ve promised, I’ve created a Discord Server, but it’s not fully ready yet. The only thing left is for me to set up some simple bots for the server, which I hope I’d be able to get done tonight.

I’m also looking for some volunteers who would be willing to become moderators for the server. Since I’m no tech-wizard when it comes to Discord itself, I’m looking for those who are more familiar with how Discord works and can help manage the server, especially those who can manage the Bots in case I’m not available or if it’s out of my league 😅

And of course, if you’re willing to help enforce the courtesy rules among the members, making sure everyone is having a great time hanging out and having discussion and making sure everyone is feel welcomed, feel free to reach out as well! 😊

For those who are interested, please feel free to reach out to me by DM-ing me directly (I think I’ve opened the messaging for this blog for now). Or, if you guys are more comfortable talking through discord, then you can DM me or send me an ask with your Discord ID, and I’ll talk to you guys there! 😁

#writing updates #discord server #if: vendetta #if game #if wip #dashingdon #choicescript

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kiingocreative · 3 years ago

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Ready to edit, format, or publish your book? We offer editing and coaching services! Send a DM or go to https://kiingo.co/services

Conflict–One of the Most Exciting Aspects of Story!

In one of my previous articles –How to Make Your Fictional Gatherings More Realistic– I touched a little bit on conflict resolution as it relates to our characters. A character’s reactions to conflict is more than just a way to create an interesting scene, it is a direct reflection of who they are as a person. So is the way your character approaches conflict.

How do your characters handle being approached with difficult conversations? How about initiating difficult conversations? If you’re dealing with a power dynamic situation, it can affect both of these things.

“We all know what it’s like to hear something that’s really painful and we totally reject it. Maybe we disagree, maybe we feel attacked, maybe we feel it’s unjust for somebody to have said this to us. And when we react, we react out of wanting to totally reject the experience of hearing this difficult feedback.” –Matthew Hepburn

To be averse or not to be

Conflict Averse characters:

Changing the subject or avoiding the subject altogether, leaving to be free from the conflict or facing feelings of desperately wanting to flee. These are all ways a character will react that not only struggles dealing with conflict but also doesn’t know how to cope with the tension that conflict brings. These characters may struggle in facing their own thoughts and feelings, particularly the negative ones.

The one with the screw loose

Conflict Seeking Characters:

These characters might struggle with their relationships, avoid introspection and often blame others for even their own wrongdoings. They might be liars, con-artists, dominators, aggressors, bullies. They will go to great lengths to cause trouble, as they find a real thrill in the suffering of others. These characters are basically game for anything to start a conflict, or continue a conflict.

Difficult conversations: Characters in a position of relative disempowerment

This character answers to someone above them. A ruler, a manager, an older sibling… it doesn’t matter who it is that they answer to in this particular discussion. What matters is how they approach a difficult conversation when it is in relation to this person of power in their world, because how they approach the conflict can be the cause and effect of the reaction, or response, of the person in power. For simplicity, here are two opposite ways a character might approach a person in power with a difficult conversation:

A cautious approach:

In a cautious approach, this character in a position of relative disempowerment will fulfill a number of things during a tension-filled conversation:

1) They will reaffirm the relationship they have with the person in power so that the person in power knows their commitment/loyalty/desires of their well-being is true and important

2) They may attempt at giving the person in power some form of agency over how they receive the difficult information by asking when it’s a good time to have the tough conversation

3) They will share the positive intention first

4) They will speak openly and directly

These are all things that will potentially lessen the chances of a reactive character in a position of power from being set off.

A non-cautious approach:

A non-cautious approach is more likely to result in the person in power reacting (I’ll explain why down below). In this kind of scenario, where a character is not cautious when approaching the person in power with a difficult conversation…they generally aren’t considerate, they don’t set importance upon the relationship they have with the person in power and they don’t put focus on their positive intention. Maybe they don’t even have a positive intention, which could be a reason for why they have not approached this conversation cautiously–this will all depend upon the complexities of your characters.

Difficult conversations: Characters in a position of power

The person in power is the one who makes the call. They’re in charge by either having been appointed, promoted, or simply born to be where they are. This character often does not take lightly to being approached with negative feedback or general difficult conversations, unless of course they are a *rare* non-reactive person in power. The reason? It’s simple: they are used to being the one who tells others when they are not performing up to par. They are the ones who give the negative feedback and initiated those difficult conversations, not the other way around. Sure, we can have reasonable and respectable characters in a position of power, sometimes they are needed! (But, are they as fun?)

Responding Characters:

This powerful character listens to understand. They are reflective by nature and want to not only understand themselves, but to understand others. This character is often grey (not in the good or bad sense) in the sense that they can hold space for different view points and perspectives, as they aren’t necessarily hard and fast on only having one way to go about doing things (unless of course an idea goes against their core values). They can hold space for the polarity of life and what it means to be human. This character will sit with what’s been said to them and contemplate it in great detail, looking at all sides, all considerations. They will likely respond with a calm disposition, and with respect.

“When things are going well, people are actually holding strong opinions but very lightly, and they’re able to perspective take. And listen to other people and listen really deeply and authentically, not just waiting to pounce on the weakest part of somebodies’ idea.” –Matthew Hepburn

*Potential Game of Thronesspoiler in this paragraph, proceed with caution!

An example of this character is Daenerys from GOT (Obviously I’m not talking about the later seasons *I haven’t read all of the book yet, so they may differ*). Dany is a noble leader, who only wants what’s best for the people who relay their trust in her. She is fair. When she is approached with issues from her people, she listens wholly and contemplates all that is real and possible. In her early ruling days, she actually listens to her confidantes by heeding their advice and warnings. For a time, I really feel she is a character in a powerful position that responds rather than reacts. Of course if we look at her later on, this analysis would be quite different (thanks for keeping us on our toes Martin).

Reactive Characters:

“If we’re in a place of a lot of power, sometimes we react to the way other people come at us in really strong ways.” –Matthew Hepburn

“Let’s say you’re in a position of power because you’re a human and a mosquito flies up and sucks your blood. You might just totally destroy the thing. That’s a relationship of a power imbalance, where one being came up to you with a need, expressed it, and you didn’t like it and you just crushed their life out of existence.” –Matthew Hepburn

Well, you know the kind. This is a person we’ve all had the pleasure of dealing with. And although they may not be very pleasant to engage with in real life, it is a real joy to make our characters deal with them. These characters are basically hell on wheels. They are typically unapproachable, which makes approaching them all that more terrifying for the character (and all that more exciting for the reader). These characters are often emotionally driven, and so when they react (instead of just responding) they’re reactions are often unpredictable because they are so fueled by how they feel in any given moment. Gosh these guys are fun, aren’t they? They can be passionate, but often these people don’t focus their passion in positive places. Instead, they carry the story along by creating added conflict, tension and general difficulties.

*Spoilers ahead for The Joker, take heed!

Let’s look at the amazingly crafted villain, The Joker. No, he is not in a position of power (early on, at least), and yet, he can still be quite reactive. I would say he is on the far spectrum of reactive, actually, as he reacts with aggression. His reactions are emotionally driven, but as we’ve learned if you’ve watched the movie, his traumatic past combined with his specific mental illness equate to his reactions being so drastic they result in murder and often happen after a realization of having been personally attacked in some form or another. (Example: suffocating his mother after finding out he was actually adopted and she had lied to him his entire life.)

But there are also reactive characters that are a little less dangerously reactive, such as, Treena of Favoured Adder in my novel Age of The Almek. She is mostly unapproachable, and in a position of power as she is The Master of Tagondo’s daughter. She is next line to rule Tagondo and relishes in this fact. Treena likes to inflict pain and discomfort upon those that cross her, using her sidekick Cain of favoured Fenwick to do the dirty work. But mostly, in this first book of the series, her reactive nature is emotionally driven in provocative ways, as she satiates her anger and irritation by being illegally sexually active with men.

Ultimately, a lot goes into the construct of our characters. Their back story and mental state, position of power and where they sit on that reactive scale, (it obviously, doesn’t stop there!) all come together to create their own personal reactions to conflict and whether they’re a responsive or reactive person, conflict averse or seeking conflict. Reactive characters–both the ones I create and the ones I get to read about–are some of my favourite kinds of characters. The cool part? Characters can change. What was once a responding character can become a reactive character, or what was once a character in a position of power can become a character in a position of disempowerment, etc. That freedom, to shape a character and put all kinds of terrible and wonderful things (including the harrowing, yet juicy reality of conflict) in their path is one of the most joyous (and evil *muhaha*) things about being a writer and creating book worlds.

Podcasts referenced:

Ten Percent Happier, Don’t Side With Yourself with Matthew Hepburn

#writingtips #screenwriting #creative writing #writers on tumblr #writers #writing #writerblr #writing advice #writing community #writing resources

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kyluxtrashpit · 3 years ago

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Okay so I’ve been unable to stop thinking about the crossover since the last issue and there’s several things I just can’t seem to wrap my head around, so I’m writing a ramble that is basically me just trying to figure it out. This is kind of a review but more of just me dumping all my thoughts just so they’re not bouncing around in my head anymore lmao. I can’t really talk to many people about it because I don’t want to rain on the parade of people who loved it, but I also liked a lot of things and don’t want to just listen to someone bash it completely so rambling to myself on tumblr is how we go. Though, if you DO want to discuss any of this with me, PLEASE send me an ask or a dm or reply or whatever, because I would love to so much omg

I’m gonna start with the things I loved, then go into things that I didn’t like as much or concern me, then into the questions I have and the stuff I didn’t understand. I know there’s still the epilogue to come, which may wrap all of this up (please, please wrap all of this up lmao) and maybe some of these questions aren’t supposed to have answers yet, but I have to get it out somewhere cause I literally had trouble sleeping last night because of this lmao. And if you do have answers to some of these questions, PLEASE reach out to me and answer them because I am just. So perplexed. I’ve read IG and I feel like I still only understood maybe 30% of what actually happened so skskdjs

I don’t think this leans either negatively or positively in terms of my overall opinion, but if you’re hard on the “I love it, it’s flawless” or “I hate it, it has no redeeming features”, then you’ll probably disagree with like half of this either way so. Don’t get mad at me, these are just my opinions and you’re completely free to disagree with some or all of it

(under a cut cause this is more than 3 THOUSAND FUCKING WORDS somehow, what the hell, send help. Also spoilers galore for the Plague Doctor and Igor Grom series’)

What I loved

So first off, THE ART!!! I’ve always loved phobs’ art but goddamn, seeing the evolution is just something else. Every panel is downright gorgeous. It was such a treat to get an entire arc from phobs, truly a blessed event. All of it is just *chef’s kiss*

Secondly, the serovolk feels 🥺. They really hit so hard. Oleg being ready to go get Sergey right now immediately even though he’s still injured himself, then Sergey literally falling into his arms when he gets home all bloody and hurt. Guuuuh my feels 😭. I adored it. And the little hints, like Poet saying how ‘your loved ones don’t turn away from you’ and then the panel showing Sergey is just. So good. That really filled my heart

Another thing is that, if you were on twitter when the crossover was first announced, you’ll probably know one of the heaviest criticisms basically boiled down to ‘why do we need Igor and Sergey to fight again, we’re done with this, they’re done with this, why do that’ and I admit to being on that team. So I was really glad to see they didn’t, and also I enjoyed that they basically had the same reaction to being shoved together again lmao. They’re done with each other and neither have any interest in that. So I appreciated that solution to it, it felt really natural and needed

I also appreciated Igor’s character in general. If you’ve read the entirety of both MG and IG, plus any of MIG, you know he has some absolutely beautiful moments, and some that are uhhhh… very bland lmao. He’s a character that I don’t really gravitate towards personally, at least in the comics, but he has his moments. IG itself is a mixed bag for me, but I adored the Loci Method. I love the moments when he uses his words, when he’s more focused on protecting others than going after the villain, and overall the calm, compassionate, less punchy version of himself. This didn’t feel like a regression from IG, like many say MIG is. I really liked it. He’s grown, and this shows it well, in terms of how he handled everything and everyone he encountered

Chrysalis was also very intriguing to me. I really did not expect him to show up on the more heroic side, as I remember him being arguably the most violent of the Rubenstein trio in IG, but I will say it does make me breathe easier to know team Plague Doctor probably won’t have to fight him now lmao. I’m also really intrigued as to what’s going on with him and Poet (more on Poet in the questions section later) and Fireguy like. So Fireguy and Chrysalis are just buddies? And Poet is their unruly friend they have to go reign in now and again cause he’s the only one of the three still into murder? I haven’t the foggiest what’s going on there, but I am intensely curious. Also the like… sad lovey eyes Poet and Chrysalis were making at each other at the end there??? I know people ship them but wow what is happening lmfao

(Also ngl when Chrysalis first burst in my first thought somehow was it was Danila, cause grey hoodie with the hood up + superhuman strength but you know XD)

Things I didn’t like as much

I’m honestly not sure whether to put this in the questions section or here, but I think it’s more critical, so I’ll start by saying that, from day 1, I was on the team of ‘okay but what is the purpose of this’. And while that changed for a lot of people with this last issue, and that’s great, it didn’t change for me. It did clearly introduce new characters, which is all well and good and I knew would happen eventually (though, who is going to get slotted into PD vs MIG vs maybe another series remains unclear), but otherwise… I’m not really sure how it serves the narrative and moves either the plot or the character arcs in any direction?

For Igor, I think it had more of an effect. Much as he already seemed to have decided he was done with Sergey and Plague Doctor and all of it before the encounter, he did have that moment afterwards where he says “he didn’t seem crazy to me anymore”. And that… while I think he was already at that point before where he’d really let go of all that, I think he now knows it for sure himself. Which is something he learned that served his personal development and character arc. However, much as this was a crossover, it is only listed in the PD section, not the MIG section so… it’s kind of odd to me that Igor got more out of this emotionally than Sergey did lmao. Especially when it is a fairly minor development for him

Sergey, however… I don’t really see what he learned? He learned that Oleg took Rubenstein, yes, and that is sure to come up later, but I’m going to talk more about that in the ‘questions I have’ section. But that’s a piece of information, not something that has a real strong effect on his character. He also says that Oleg was right about that he shouldn’t have gone out, which is true but… again, he already learned a lesson about carefulness with Altan. I don’t think that’s a big character change moment either, especially because we know he was influenced to go and likely wouldn’t have solely of his own volition. So how can he be learning a lesson about going, when he didn’t actually make the choice to go of his own free will anyway?

Encountering Igor didn’t seem to affect Sergey at all, so that really didn’t do anything. And that makes sense, as considering the outcome of their previous 2 meetings, Sergey had a much stronger effect on Igor than the other way around. Poet just gave him information. The whole situation really just led to him getting mildly injured and saying again ‘okay, yes, I need to be more careful’ (even though this really wasn’t his fault cause he was influenced to go). And that’s it? That’s the entire effect on who, really, is the main protagonist of this arc? Idk, that feels weak to me. Like Sergey wasn’t much affected by this other than some minor injuries, so why did he even need to be there at all, in terms of the narrative, except to torture Igor by existing and have something he needs to talk to Oleg about later? I don’t understand that

(And maybe the purpose will become clear later, but right now I just don’t understand why this needed to happen at all, narratively speaking. It’s just odd, as the first arc was so good at setting things up and closing them perfectly, while this only seems to set things up for new characters, not for the existing ones)

…okay, I lied, there’s one other thing that did change for Sergey, and this is the thing that is making me very, very worried about the future: everyone now knows he’s alive. And this, this was really what made me very unsure about this crossover from the start. Much as the second issue confirmed Igor had no interest in chasing Sergey himself now, this issue pretty much confirmed my worst fear. If only Igor knew he was there, k, whatever, he’ll tell Max and Banu (who will surely show up again as investigating PD), but they have no proof. That could even be a plot point, them trying to convince everyone Sergey’s alive and not being believed. That could be fun. But. All the hostages saw him. Poet said his full name in front of everyone. Basically the entire world now knows Sergey Razumovsky is alive

“But,” you say, “KTP, that was surely inevitable, why are you upset about this?” Because, whether it was inevitable or not (and I truly don’t think it was), this means it’s not just Max and Banu knowing/suspecting he’s alive, or the Dagbaev’s having some personal beef with him. This is the entire world. This is FSB, Interpol, those white arrow people, and who the fuck else knows. Like. Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself here by worrying about something that won’t happen for 30-40 issues, but how am I to believe Sergey and Oleg will get to have a happy ending now that they’re internationally wanted criminals again? Keep in mind, Sergey is a very prolific serial killer in both Russia and Italy, and they’re both terrorists as well. A handful of people knowing or suspecting Sergey is alive without proof is one thing, but now everyone knows. Which means they’re pretty much fucked

Which is why I wish I could love this because everyone’s like ‘oh, look, such a beautiful happy ending for serovolk, together again, of course they will always have that’ but… honestly, I can’t even really enjoy that page at the end because now I fear it’s all temporary and that we’re all going to have our hearts broken in the worst possible way. How can they ever have peace now that it’s not just a couple of people looking for them, but the whole goddamn world? How can they ever have lasting happiness? How can they end this story alive and not inside a jail cell? I never doubted before that they would get a happy ending, cause they have to, they’re the fan favourites but now… I really, really don’t want this comic to end with them dead. I’m literally tearing up a little as I type this just thinking about it. And I’m now really, really worried it will happen

(God, someone please tell me serovolk will be alive and together and not in jail at the end of this comic. If they won’t be, I would genuinely rather stop reading right now and give up and find something else than have my heart broken like that again. I can’t do it again, okay)

(And, again, if the epilogue confirms that somehow not /everyone/ knows and they’re only suspected and they won’t have every law enforcement agency out there banging on doors trying to find them for the rest of the series, then I take all of this back and will shut up forever lmao. I don’t think this is likely to happen, because it feels too impossible, but please, I would really, really want that)

Also, as a last note, I’m not sure if this is a criticism per se, but I do find it funny that Sergey got his ass kicked so hard by like one random cultist when he was able to take out like 15 trained mercenaries in that warehouse considering he started with nothing but a charge cord and a sharp necklace lmao. But you know, maybe the lack of Oleg being in danger didn’t give him enough adrenaline sdklskdslks

Things I’m confused about

Now, onto things I have questions about. Some of these may be read as criticism, but I don’t consider them such. These are things I didn’t understand and am confused about, some of which may be answered in the epilogue or a future issue, or some of which could be things I’m just too dumb to see the obvious answer to lmao

So first off, Poet. Like all of Poet. I have read IG, in fact I read most of it twice to refresh my memory. And while I understood Poet’s deal in the first bit he was in, to be fair, the second bit with the plastic surgery was very confusing for me as well lmao like. Why was he going along with that? What did he get out of it? What was his motivation? But anyway, whatever, this isn’t about IG, this is about the crossover

But my questions remain kind of the same here. What was Poet actually trying to do there? Goal 1: get Igor to the museum and he needs the cultists to capture people as bait. K, cool, got that. Goal 2: bring Sergey there to ask about Rubenstein. K, cool, got that. Goal 3: put Sergey and Igor in the same room to… have a very awkward little chat? Okay, now you’ve lost me

Like Poet straight up says if he wanted them to kill each other, he’d just make that happen with the hypnosis. Cool, so that’s not what he wanted. He wants them to talk. To what end though? To make them uncomfortable? Why? And isn’t there a better way to do that? And it does seem like he’s going to kill them after, but like. Wouldn’t it be more fun to make them kill each other if you want them dead anyway? If I were him, I would’ve controlled Sergey and used him to attack Igor, cause Igor doesn’t like to kill people but also this is /Sergey/, so mmm conflicted. But he didn’t want to do that. So what did he want? Was it just like… to gloat? Make them talk cause he can? He didn’t even seem upset that they didn’t have much to say, he only got mad when they redirected the conversation at him. I don’t get it. I have no idea why Poet did literally any of this when the things that are clear he wanted had much easier solutions

Rubenstein info? Lure Sergey, ask him, when he says he doesn’t know, mind control him back to the apartment and ask Oleg. When Oleg refuses, have Sergey put a knife to his own neck and Oleg will spill it all. Kill Igor? Well, do exactly what he did but without Sergey there and then boom, kill him in whatever fashion you prefer. Easy peasy

Anyway, if you can tell me what Poet’s goal actually was, I’d love to hear it, because I don’t have the foggiest lmfao. And considering the entire crossover was incited by him doing all this for reasons, I’d probably enjoy it more if I knew what those reasons were. And right now, I have no idea, and neither did the like half dozen people in the server I’m in where I asked this lmao

(I also find it curious that so much of the fandom criticizes Lera, saying she doesn’t have clear motives, when she very much does, meanwhile Poet’s are completely inscrutable here yet everyone loves him. Really makes you think, hm)

Also Oleg not telling Sergey about Rubenstein is weird. Really weird. People have said it’s not, but it’s really freaking weird. Cause these two are pretty much always together, which means Oleg said he was doing something else when he did it. Or did it while actually being there to do something else. And then didn’t tell Sergey for… reasons? My suspicion is that Rubenstein said something Oleg didn’t like and doesn’t want Sergey to hear, so he just omitted the whole thing, but I do hope we find out for sure soon. I’m almost positive this question will be answered lmao, but it still bothers me

And, although I’m sure this will be answered too, I’m curious who is going to end up being who’s problem. Will the cultists show up in PD or MIG? Tbh I’d prefer MIG, I think they’d fit the vibes better, but who knows. And the Rubenstein trio? Well, they were previously Igor’s problem, but they could be Sergey’s now too (and, by extension, Oleg’s and Lera’s), or maybe they’re getting their own series? I have no clue. Max and Banu are clearly going to stick around. So we’ll see how all that goes

I feel like I had more questions when I started typing this lmao, but I think the big ones really are Poet’s motivations and then the purpose question, which I put in the criticism section. I also feel like… Idk, after the first arc, I felt I had a very clear picture of the kinds of things that would come up later and what this series would look like and what it would largely be about. But now? I feel like I know nothing. And that scares me a little, because when I can’t predict how a story will go, then how can I know it’ll end okay? I think that’s what really gets me. Is now I have doubts I didn’t before. So. I do hope the epilogue clears a lot of this up, or maybe when the issue after that comes out, it’ll just forget 90% of this happened lmao as sometimes happens. Idk, I guess we shall see

And, like I said at the top, if you actually read all this (or if you didn’t cause it’s stupidly fucking long lmao but are seeing this paragraph anyway), then please, please feel free to reach out and chat with me about any of it. Cause I would LOVE to talk to someone about some of these feelings and I really don’t have anyone right now cause most of my friends really liked it and I don’t want to upset them, or they have the same questions I do with no answers. Anyway, that’s my ramble, hopefully this will leave my brain and I can relax in peace now lmfao

#oh my god why is this so loooooong lmfao #I do genuinely feel better after word vomiting all over the place though lmao #I think I needed to get it out and this seems to be the best way so #here we go #if you read this omg you're insane but also thank you I love you #and like I said please feel very free to talk to me about any of this because I would LOVE that #anyway I'm done now goodnight lmao #plague doctor #major grom #shut up nerd #long post #meta #text

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thatslikely · 4 years ago

Text

A Slow Dance - G.W.

A Slow Dance- George Weasley x Fem!Reader (unspecified house)

Warnings: none! pure fluff <3

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: y’all I’m serious. where’s my George. I need someone like this asap, don’t be shy universe. hope you guys enjoy as always :)

Just a Reminder: song lyrics/thoughts are in italics [I imagined is Put Your Head on My Shoulder by Paul Anka, but any song works]

Taglist: @horrorxweasley @hufflepuff5972 @amourtentiaa

if you want to be added, send me a dm or an ask!

Requested by the lovely @amourtentiaa [my first request I’ve gotten, and I love it!]

----

“Ugh. Why do you have to sit hunched over your desk studying all the time? Have at least a little fun! It’s our last year at Hogwarts!” A sprawled out George exclaimed from your ruffled four-poster bed with a groan. His handsome face hung off the edge of the bed frame, his upside-down gaze fixed on your distracted figure.

George was always quite needy; it was practically a law of nature. Whether it was running around pulling a record-breaking marathon of pranks, or just tenderly holding his large, soft hand while discussing your favorite novel, he lapped up every ounce of you he could.

“Georgie, if I don’t do well on my N.E.W.T.s, how do you expect me to get a decent job?” you asked with a bit more bite than you intended. The complex, academic sentences scribbled onto the parchment before you droned through your brain like headache-inducing white noise, which soured your attitude more than you liked to admit.

It made your heart flutter knowing that George yearned for your care so much, but you had your whole life to spend with the vexatious redhead. You only had the next week to pass your N.E.W.T.s.

“You’ll always have a job down with me at the shop, c’mon! Imagine: my two favorite things wrapped up into one!” he said, before adding more softly, “plus, you’d look so cute in the uniform.” You couldn’t help your cheeks from heating up at his affectionate comment, which wasn’t intended to grace your ears.

“I wish it was simple as that, Georgie. While I’d love to work with you at the shop, you know that’s not what I really want to do. You always tell me to shoot for the moon, and this is just part of the process.” You were unrelenting with your studying, which George of course admired, but he was equally relentless in his pursuit of spending time with you, even if it was just for a second.

The dorm fell suspiciously quiet, which allowed your mind to delve even deeper into your studies. The strokes of your quill grew deeper and sharper into the parchment with focus, the ink-blotted tip eventually tearing a small rip mid-sentence.

A breath that you unknowingly held escaped your lips in the form of an exasperated sigh. You rubbed your temples before picking up the quill and starting again.

You mindlessly scribed cursive onto the dense paper for several minutes before snapping out of your trance at the jarring noise of a chair’s legs scraping across the hardwood floors. George took the vacant seat next to you, resting his elbow on the surface of the desk.

His handsome face rested comfortably in his palm, his whole body turned towards you. You could’ve sworn his mischievous but lovable gaze flickered to your soft lips every few seconds like a magnet drawn to its opposite pole.

Stop thinking about George, and his delicious lips, alluring cocoa-colored eyes, fluffy red hair… think about Transfiguration!

Your quill-wielding wrist moved in more furious motions, your determination to stay devoted to your academics made your eyes drift to the smug titian-haired boy next to you more than ever. You eventually succumbed to your heart’s desires, giving George a small glance.

The expression George donned shattered your expectations; you expected his eyes to be droopy and half-asleep, jaw-slacked in boredom, evidenced by his disdain of all things school-related.

Instead, however, his red tongue stuck out to his chin, his index fingers pulling apart his freckled cheeks. His mocha eyes were humorously crossed, fixed on his adorable aquiline nose. He looked utterly ridiculous.

“What’re you doing, Georgie? You look absurd!” you questioned with a hefty chuckle. His eyes lit up with triumph at the laugh fleeing your lips.

“I’m getting your eyes off that stupid piece of parchment! You’ve been writing nonsense on it for the past quarter of an hour. You need a break.”

“Just let me study a bit more, then I promise I’ll spend some time with you, okay?” you bargained, hoping for compliance. You pivoted your head back to the strewn papers resting on the mahogany desk in front of you, ready to get back into a productive rhythm.

The welcome rhythm never stayed for long though, for it was always disrupted by George making another goofy face. He’s just being a child, you thought, you’re a seventh year. Ridiculous faces aren’t funny. Oh how wrong you were.

With every new expression that graced his features, another laugh threatened to escape your mouth. Soon enough, your eyes were steadily fixed on the frivolous ginger, ready for what face he would come up with next.

Your brain was locked in a battle: George and his loveable humor, versus your Transfiguration notes and passing your N.E.W.T.s. Both were hardy competitors, but in the end, McGonagall’s subject prevailed. George got up from the seat next to you with a huff, blowing a stray red strand of hair up from his forehead.

He paced around the large room, scheming a way to get your undivided attention. He peeked around the wooden shelves and dressers that stayed pressed against the walls of the dorms, looking for something, anything.

His eyes eventually settled on the record player on your nightstand by your bed. It was a muggle device that his father had ranted about many times before, and he guessed that he could probably figure out how to work it.

His calloused fingers plucked the top inky-black vinyl record from the stack, feeling the textured grooves engraved in its surface. He set the record in place, dropping the needle not long after. The previously pin-drop silent room quickly came to life with the enrapturing sounds of harmonious chords.

It appeared that even the universe wanted to free you from the shackles of your boring notes, for the vinyl George happened to choose was your favorite song, and a slow, romantic one at that.

George lightly tapped your back, causing you to swivel around towards him. He had his long, toned arm outstretched to you charmingly, beckoning you for a dance. You gingerly placed your palm into his and he swiftly pulled you out of the chair and into the middle of the floor.

His face was handsome as ever; you only just now realized how much you missed all of him. His gentle touch, his honey-pooled eyes, the pure love pumping through his veins. His hands rapturously rested on your waist, yours’ wrapped around the nape of his neck. You twirled a small section of his red hair in between your fingers, which only made the lovestruck grin on his face grow bigger.

The song continued to echo through the cozy walls of the room, the unified swaying of your hips in sync with the song’s slow beat. You nearly melted in his warm embrace, his arms gradually bringing you closer and closer to his beating chest.

You eventually rested your head on George’s shoulder, feeling the soothing vibrations of his vocal chords humming along with the notes of the song.

Put your lips next to mine dear, won’t you kiss me once, baby?

As if the song had you two lovebirds under a spell, George slowly brought his lips to yours, giving you a slow and passionate kiss.

He’d kissed you so many times before, but this time it felt different, in the best way possible. It was as if angels sang when your lips graced his’; you could taste his feelings through the connection, his devotion and longing for you overriding your senses. Your eyes teared up at the wave of endearing emotions that overcame you.

The sensual dancing continued long through the night, the tender and enchanting kisses and slow sways wiping your mind of the stressful upcoming exams.

“Feel better, darling?” George breathily mumbled into your ear, the warmth from his mouth shooting directly to your heart, coating your body with goosebumps.

All your hazy, smitten mind could respond with was a simple but passionate, “I love you.”

“I love you too, darling.”

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