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fireheartpages · 3 years ago

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give you peace | s.r.

summary: Days on the road are long and overstretched and everyone seems better at dealing with it than you. You are even worse at dealing with it when you’re forced to share a bed with the self-appointed Captain.

playlist: give you peace | s.r.

word count: 3.4k

rating: 18+

a/n: i have literally been working on this fic for, like, over a month okay. i had decided that no one knew how to do a true theres-only-one-bed fic so i decided to write my own and then idk what happened like god took it into her hands at that point and this is the result so like don’t blame me blame god

“I would take a bunch of rolled-up newspapers and a blanket at this point,” Sam said from beside you.

You lift your head from where it rested on the table between your arms, peering at him through lidded eyes. “A bed is a bed, Samuel.”

“Yeah, and it’s the first one we’ll have in months,” he said. “If Steve can ever get the damn key cards.”

“I, for one, don’t know why we didn’t think of having Nat hack the security cameras earlier,” you remarked, fidgeting with the strap of your one duffle bag you could keep that you’d looped around your ankle. Can’t be too careful. “Who’s really worried about a few misdemeanors when you’re on the run from the highest levels of the US government?”

“Amen,” said Sam.

“I’ll second that one,” Natasha said, stretching out beside you, feline in her office chair. The laptop was set in front of her, inconspicuous enough that it just looked like she was getting some work done before checking in. God, technology was truly great.

Steve returned a second later, holding a handful of cards and a goodie bag from the front desk. Robbing big chain hotels of their rooms and amenities was honestly your best idea yet. You wish you’d thought of it sooner. Being on the run was exhausting, and half-star motels that conveniently didn’t already have security cameras was even more exhausting and incredibly less safe. Peace was hard to come by when you were tracking down the worst of the worst, and safety was even harder. Caffeine and near-tear exhaustion has brought you the idea of simply hacking the system at a Marriott Inn. Genius, Genius, Genius.

“Alright,” Steve said. “Cameras down, yet?”

Nat took a second before closing the laptop and responding, “They’ll loop for 24 hours. Should be enough time for us to rest up and make it out of here.”

“Two rooms,” Steve said, throwing down two packs of key cards.

“Ugh, my own bed,” you sighed.

“We’ll share,” Natasha said, motioning between her and Sam.

“Hey, wait,” you said, picking up your gaze to Nat, who honest-to-god looked like the expression “the cat that got the cream.”

“Your own bed, right?” Nat said, leveling her gaze with your own.

You tipped your head back to look at Steve, who was standing over you. “Guess we’re bunking together.”

The Jack & Jill door between the two rooms was quickly unlocked and you tossed your duffle onto the counter of the vanity before turning to face the rest of the room. Bed, bed, bed, bed, bed, panted like a mantra in your mind as the bone-deep feeling of exhaustion settled into you. Sheets and a duvet and the cold side of a pillow sounded like a winning lottery ticket right about now.

You looked around the small room, just the bed with an adjoining bathroom and exposed vanity, a mini-fridge and coffee maker next to the TV and—

Bed. Bed as in singular.

Your head snapped to look at Steve.

“There’s only one bed,” he remarked helpfully.

“You’re kidding,” you insisted, the evidence glaringly obvious. Maybe if you whined loud enough it would magically become two.

“Is there only one in their room? Maybe we can switch—” Your hand went for the door, only to find it locked. You jiggled the door, kicking it once, then leaning your head against it in defeat. “Whores,” you hissed.

“That should be unlocked—”

“You know why it isn’t.” You turned back to the room, defeat settling in your bones. It’s not that you and Steve had never not not gotten along, it’s just that two iron-willed people who are incessant about being right don’t tend to last in a room together without some… light bickering.

Steve went for the phone and brought it to his ear for only a moment before shoving it back onto the receiver. “Nat disabled the line,” he sighed.

“So, there’s only one bed,” you observed, just as helpfully as he had.

“I’ll take the floor,” Steve said.

“No, I’m not gonna make you do that. I can—”

“You’re not sleeping on the floor.”

Your folded your arms across your chest defiantly. “And why’s that?”

“You’re exhausted.”

“So are you.”

“I can handle the floor for one night—”

“Well, so could I.”

“Well, why don’t we both take the goddamned floor, then?”

“Why don’t we both take the fucking bed, then?” You yanked back the covers on one side.

“Fine.” Steve’s eyes met yours across the bed. The only one in the room. Iron will alright.

It was Steve that broke first, much to your satisfaction of having won two stand-offs with him.

“I’m going to take a shower.”

“Have fun,” you quipped over your shoulder ad you flopped down on the mattress, grabbing the remote from the side table. This was fine. This would be fine.

A bed is a bed, right?

Steve was in the shower for a bit longer than you’d expected, considering how fast he usually took. Memories of standing in a steam filled bathroom where he was in and out before you’d even wrangled your hair into something presentable came back to you, watching him through a fogged mirror as he walked out with a towel slung low over his hips.

Much like he had when he emerged as you were just barely dozing off to the Lifetime movie on the screen. You swung your legs over the edge and willed your feet to remember how to carry you to the en suite. You passed him by, shoulder brushing his as your gaze caught the water droplets still shimmering on this skin.

You took a bit longer in the shower than usual we well.

When you emerged, hair dry enough that you didn’t have to worry about waking up to a soaked pillow, and in as presentable as a night outfit as you could get for New Mexico in the middle of August, it was dark in the rest of the room. You eased your way out to the bed, noting that Steve seemed to be already a sleep, a pillow laid longways in the middle of the bed. You rolled your eyes before setting the burner phone you had to charge. You climbed into bed gingerly, acutely aware of the body on the other side of the queen-sized mattress. A queen should be plenty big for two people, but Steve was the size of two people himself and slept on his back, one arm thrown behind his head, and the other four remaining pillows (cause, y’know, men are too manly to sleep with pillows) cast to your side. Long story short, it didn’t leave you much room.

This was it, this was the catch, you thought. No pillow nest to bury yourself in. So much for your own damn bed.

You slipped into the covers, arranging the pillows around yourself in your best attempt of a pillow nest with only one-third of a queen mattress to work with (you mourned the loss of the single pillow you had to toss on the floor) and closed your eyes.

And then sleep didn’t come.

So you opened your eyes and shuffled the pillows a bit again, then laid down, and shut your eyes.

And then sleep didn’t come.

Sighing, you shifted again, fluffing the pillow you hugged to your chest with an annoyed hand and—

“Could you stop moving?” cut a voice through the dark.

You send Steve a glare that definitely didn’t land through the pitch black. “You’re taking up the entire bed, it’s kind of hard to get comfortable.”

Steve sighed, then shifted into a sitting position. You heard his feet hit the ground.

“I told you you’re not sleeping on the floor.”

“We clearly can’t share the bed.”

“We clearly can, actually, if you just scoot over.”

“I don’t really think that would fix the problem.”

“Do you have to argue with everything I say?”

He inhaled sharply, but didn’t say anything.

“Just lay back down and go to sleep.”

You felt the mattress shift again. You rolled over and squeezed your eyes shut, willing your body not to move again.

You woke up to warmth.

Wasn’t New Mexico the desert? Didn’t the desert get cold at night? Why were you so warm right now? How long did you sleep for, then—

Moving was weird. Yeah, that’s really weird, cause you were caught on something. And what was on your stomach?

Steve. Steve was. You were warm because Steve’s breath was hitting your collar bone and you were pressed against his body and his hand was splayed over your bare stomach.

You had a vague memory of a pillow hitting the floor last night. Then another shuffling stand-off. Then—

Steve was holding you in his arms. Steve was holding you while he slept.

You tried your hardest to move without actually moving, a task that quickly proved difficult. If you could just turn over—

The hands on your stomach turned into an arm tightening around you.

There was no possible way to get out of this and save your pride. You couldn’t do it without waking him up and—

Hold on. Why were you embarrassed? He was the one holding you like a child and a teddy bear. He was the one not letting go. Yeah, this was something you could give him shit for.

“Steve,” you said, sleep tugging on the edges of your voice. “Steve, let go.” You tried a little more openly to wiggle your way out of his grip.

“Huh-uh,” he grunted, only succeeding in further trapping you. “Y’r warm.”

Well, so was he.

As the tired still crowded your mind, you took a deep breath and only succeeded in relaxing yourself further into his grip. You tried half-heartedly to wiggle your way out but, wow, his skin is soft. You didn’t really notice falling back asleep. The absence of your consciousness was a relief.

But when you woke again, it was to the smell of coffee and a cold bed.

You blinked blearily into the morning, gaze flitting across the room before landing on Steve’s figure leaning against the vanity.

“Morning,” he said thickly. He sounded like he couldn’t have been awake that early, and yet he’d been up long enough for his side of the bed to go cold.

"G'mornin'." You stretched out in an attempt to rid yourself of sleep and gave a small moan. Steve tossed his gaze over his shoulder but kept his body faced towards the vanity as he let the coffee drip into the single-use cups.

"Sleep well?" he asked, still not turning to face you.

"Did you?"

You watched his shoulders tense for a split second before he does, finally, turn to you, coffee in hand. He crosses the space between you in a step and a half and extends the cup to you.

You, of course, reach for it and, of course, do so too fast and knock the cup into your lap. Steve sputtered an apology for a moment before reaching to rip the covers off your legs. He twisted to grab a towel from the vanity and began patting down your thighs. In the frantic blur of it, you realized Steve was currently working his way up your inner thigh with a towel that was attached to his hand and you were barely awake.

"Steve," you said. He didn't stop his pursuit up your thigh and was now currently, just about, hovering over you.

"Steve," you repeated, stilling his hand on the inside of your thigh, and finally met his eye, noting as his eyes flit between yours and your lips.

"Sorry," he said, not making an attempt to move.

"S'okay," you mumbled, butterflies taking flight in your stomach and landing on every inch of your skin.

"Are you okay?" His breath was tickling your nose by now.

"You're not moving away." Your heart was hammering out of your chest by now, and you were pretty sure he could hear it. (Super soldier hearing? Is that a thing?)

"I..." The only sound was your mingling breathing for a moment. "I don't want to."

"Okay."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

His lips were feather-light on yours at first, soft and lingering. Maybe that's why his teeth on your lip made you yelp, and maybe that was why Steve groaned into your mouth before hooking an arm under your knee and hoisting you up the bed, settling his hips between your legs.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, eliciting soft moans from him as your nails scraped his scalp, so you did it again. His lips moved over your skin, down your jaw and neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses as he moved his hands over your waist. You watched as his head moved down your chest, a hand coming to rest over the strap of your tank top. He toyed with it for a moment, his other hand slowly inching the hem to expose your stomach.

Cerulean eyes met yours. "Okay?"

You nodded vehemently.

His hands lit firecrackers on your skin as he pushed up your tank, his mouth immediately attaching itself to your exposed breast. Your breath hitched in your chest, hands clawing at his shirt in a desperate attempt to undress him.

His shirt and your shorts were quickly discarded onto the floor next to your tank as your fumbling hands reached to his waistband with the intent for them to join the growing pile on the floor. A gentle hand came to cover your wrist, and you opened your eyes to see Steve kissing farther down your sternum, your stomach, your hips.

His breath was hot on your exposed core. Tiny kisses were placed on the inside of both your thighs, like matches being lit in the dark. You were covered in him all of a sudden, covered, covered, covered in his breath, in his skin, in his existence. And when he buried his nose in your folds, you wondered if he was covered in you as well.

His lips sang against your most sensitive area, pushing a finger or two inside you and then slowly curling until your back arched off the coffee-stained sheets. You were breathless, enthralled in every sensation Steve was able to seep from your body. His name fell off your lips in a series of pleas that you were, at present, woefully unable to distinguish. All you know is that it spurred him on, if his own moans were anything to go by.

Release quickly closed in on every inch of you, a glass being filled until it finally, finally tipped over and spread over every inch of you until you were writhing against his face.

Kisses were once again being placed all over your body, until Steve’s nose nudged you and his mouth found yours once again.

“You taste like honey,” he whispered into your mouth.

You whimpered against his lips, hands grasping at his neck, his hair, his waist.

“Okay?” he asked, his own hand moving towards the waistband of his sweats.

“Yes,” you breathed. “Yes, yes, oh my god, yes.”

His hips rolled against you, a trembling wave breaking as you felt his head push into you. It knocked the air from your lungs, his arm snaking around your waist to hold you close to him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and burrows your face in his shoulder as he set up a relentless pace, pounding into you with everything he could. You were flooded with ecstasy before finally cresting, a kaleidoscope shattering inside of you before the pieces fell and covered you. Through your high, you felt Steve’s hips sputter against yours before spilling into your core.

There was nothing but your shared breaths for a moment, your head still buried in his shoulder. He relaxed you into the pillows, his lips finding a path over your cheekbone. He eased out of you, grabbing another towel to clean between your thighs. He laid back down next to you, gathering you into his arms until you were laid over his chest.

“This okay?” he asked, his voice as gravelly as you’d heard it that morning.

“Yes,” you sighed, tracing a finger over his skin. You shifted to gaze up at him, silently memorizing every line and dip of his face.

“Why had we never crossed that line before?”

You thought for a moment, his question taking you a little off guard in your still-tired, post-orgasmic state. It was a line you’d crossed. That line you’d been tiptoeing with looks cast the other’s way that always lasted a little too long, and comments that could have way too easily been taken out of context. That line that Nat and Sam had found each other crossing in an attempt to soften the sting of being on the run. That line that stopped you from finding comfort in one another, when the nights stretched on and on and people seemed like the worst type of creature in the universe.

“You’re a stubborn asshole.”

He laughed heartily. “I’m the stubborn one?”

“For now.”

So you let yourself relax into him, savoring the touch of skin on skin. Of your breathing synchronizing. Of high-thread-count sheets kissing your skin just like Steve had, like Steve still was doing, punctuating each one with the giggle he drew from you.

He sighed for a moment before locking his eyes with yours.

"I don't know if I can-"

"Steve," you stopped him. "It's not about that."

You knew where he was going with it. How he would say some chivalrous shit about not being able to provide you with what you needed. It was true, though. It wasn't about that. Not when each night could be the last, and not when a larger fight loomed just around the corner. You knew you could both feel it. When you'd find Steve pulling out his burner and taking a quick glance at it, expression unreadable when he'd discover there were no new alerts and he'd shove it back into his pocket. Not when you felt sometimes like everyone had something to fight for, except you.

"I don't need anything but this," you whispered onto his skin, willing the words to tattoo there so just maybe America's Golden Boy would understand that he alone is enough.

"I can't give you the peaceful life you want."

"I never said I wanted that."

"But I know you think about it."

What, is he a mind reader?

"It's okay. I think I want it sometimes too. But-"

"But then you pull that phone out hoping time and time again it will ring."

You felt his chest lift with a sigh.

"It's okay, Steve," you said softly. His gaze wavered against yours. "This is okay. For now, this is what I need."

"This?"

"You."

Everyone coped in different ways. Natasha dyed her hair like the little sister she’d told you about one night after a bit too much to drink and a sappy feeling in the air. Sam had a stash of letters he was writing for his nephew who’d just been born. You saw him putting them away one time and asked him about it, and he told you about his home on a vibrant coast with his sister who he loved the most in the world, until she had his nephews, that is.

You’d spent the last year collecting postcards. It wasn’t much, but they were easily transportable. You marked each one with a date and a memory. The time in Nebraska when Sam had to try and flirt his way into the back room of a bar, but he just ended up with a scratch on his face from the ring the woman wore when she slapped him. Or when Natasha fell off a dock in New Zealand and took you with her, and you both ended up spending an hour swimming in the other side of the Pacific Ocean. Or when you were in Venice chasing down a dead lead and you looked at Steve in the setting sun and suddenly your heart felt like it might explode and jump out of your chest. You’d felt tangibly dizzy. You hadn’t shown anyone that one.

But you could stay here, like this, in Steve’s arms, an ear pressed against his chest, listening to his heartbeat lull you to sleep. And when everything else feels cold, when you feel like the world is turning its back on you, you can find peace in your friends, and in the arms of someone who makes you feel safe.

#pls enjoy whatever the inside of my mind looks like bc this is it #steve rogers x reader #captain america #steve rogers #marvel #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction #emmmaswrites #18+ fic #mcu fanfiction

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sarahreesbrennan · 4 years ago

Note

Could you speak about Nick's heroic moment that impressed you? You mentioned Sabrina's heroic moment that impressed you (Lupercalia) and Harvey's heroic moment that impressed you (saving the witches) so I wondered if you had a Nick moment!

Buckle up kids, it’s time for me to get emosh about Nick Scratch!

Yes I do have a Nick moment, and I am happy that you asked about him! (Apologies for taking so long to reply to this and other CAOS questions I have in the queue, life has been a frenzied whirligig.) I know the rules of love triangles, and one must play fair.

(It has been interesting writing a proper love triangle, which I hadn’t before, and seeing the many reactions to it. I have one friend who was for Harvey in book 2, but in book 3 she switched to Nick. I have one friend who still loves Harvey and was mad he only got one POV chapter in book 3. I have my father, who is scandalized by the thought of love triangles and wishes for people to Commit to Each Other, and is firmly Team Nabrina and Harvalind without knowing either of those ship names! I Cannot and Will Never tell my father about the sex demons.)

I think everybody noticed the moment where Nick Scratch sacrificed himself to Satan to save Sabrina and also the world. It’s such a big moment and a big sacrifice that it instantly makes many forgive him for all his mistakes. And it’s the very end of that part, and I’ve noticed with Netflix binges even more than with usual TV, the end is the bit that sticks most with people and leaves the deepest impression. You can’t just click on the next episode. You have to sit with what happened.

That moment of heroism wasn’t overlooked. But early in Part 3, we see inside Nick’s mind in hell, and after weeks of torment he’s still fighting. Wrestling the fallen angel, as Jacob wrestled the angel, and saying no, he won’t give up. The kind of heroism that struggles on, and on, even when it’s tough and thankless, is more difficult than impulsively going down in a blaze of glory. It’s hard to feel good about that kind of fight. It isn’t glorious, it isn’t flashy, and it takes bedrock strength and rare courage. I was so impressed by that moment, and I did worry it would be lost, since Nick’s wild acting out from trauma and satanic possession follows. That inspired Nick’s plotline in Path of Night--to think about how Nick was tormented, and how and why he was able to resist the Dark Lord.

Writing Nick’s POV in hell in Path of Night was tricky, as I couldn’t save him and I knew he would be in a dark place even after being saved! Had I been told people would be reading about a fan favorite character being trapped and tormented while stuck in their homes due to pandemic... I don’t know what I would have done. (I mean, I would have asked the time traveler giving me these tips to give me lottery numbers, please.) I hope I would have been brave and written him the same way I did.

Book 1 (Season of the Witch) is the family-focused book, because Part 1 is about family coming through for Sabrina, and ends on her toasting them at home. Book 2 (Daughter of Chaos) is the romance-focused book, because Part 2 has many people starting new relationships and exploring what relationships mean to them, and ends with Nick coming through for Sabrina. Book 3 had to be the friendship-focused book, as Part 3 had Sabrina on missions with her friends, who were coming through for her by going to hell and fighting monsters and knowing what was up with her at last.

It couldn’t be about Sabrina and Nick’s romance, any more than Book 1 could really be about Harvey and Sabrina’s romance, because I was foreshadowing a breakup in both books. Both relationships were loving, but terribly damaged by lies (for which I blame Satan!). And all of these people need to find out who they truly are.

A character who only works in a romance isn’t a good character, and I think Nick is a good character. So when you’re examining a character on their own, you have to pose and answer these questions: who IS this person? What do they care about? How can they be taken apart, and put back together? Consent in CAOS is a big and thorny theme, (and a big and thorny subject generally!), and is discussed extensively in Daughter of Chaos, and that plays out in Path of Night, where Nick has his selfhood stripped away from him and has to try and claim it.

The epigraph for the book is a Dostoevsky quote: ‘Hell is the suffering of being unable to love.’ Nick says himself in Part 1 that Satan doesn’t want his servants to love, and hell is Satan’s kingdom, a place of utter loneliness. What do you do, in a book about friendship, with the plotline set in hell?

The truly lost are those who don’t realize they are lonely in hell. Lilith is ruling hell but missing Greendale, because Lilith underneath it all is a team player--she tried to be on Lucifer’s team for millennia until he made it clear there would never be any reward for her work, and in Part 3 she tries to be on Sabrina’s team, and goes to Zelda for help as an ally. There’s hope for Caliban, because in his reaching out for Sabrina, we see he can be lonely in hell. And what about Nick, in the lowest point of that lonely place?

I like someone who’ll do epic things for their love, but I don’t like when a character only cares about their love--I think that’s small-hearted. Fortunately I don’t think Nick’s that kind of character at all. He undoubtedly loves Sabrina dearly, but he also had a breakdown about being expelled from school, and even under Satan’s dire influence he found a nice white shirt and came to a magic ceremony because he wanted to be part of it: he cares about community. But his is a community in which caring is forbidden, so caring about that community is a paradox in itself which many of the witches have to deal with, forcing them to lie to themselves and each other. (Zelda and Prudence, very much caught in this trap.) Nick and Prudence both project an air of confidence, but Prudence was literally willing to be consumed in order to matter, and Nick willing to be consumed in order to be loved. (But what is there to love, if you’re consumed?)

Nick’s acting out under the influence of Lucifer in Part 3 is like Harvey being impelled to his father’s violence by Lucifer, though it goes much deeper: that influence brings out the specific dark impulses you DO have, while you might never have acted on them. A lot of Nick’s dark impulses are based on insecurity and his terrible coping mechanisms for dealing with that insecurity: he was gutted when expelled because he doesn’t have a home to belong to. He was raised (and abused) by someone possessive and murderous, who told him as abusers do that only she could love him, and then tragically his community’s ethos confirmed that belief for him. He mentions in Part 1 that he envies mortals because they can love. He’s told by his community that what matters is Satanic power, so he’s instantly made insecure by Caliban Prince of Hell, but he’s also insecure about Harvey because of the idea only mortals can love and be loved, and he’s afraid he can’t be loved by Sabrina as she loves this mortal. Of course, that worry itself makes it plain to us Nick is fully capable of love and of being loved, but that is anything but clear to him.

The witches are starving for love, and that’s love in all senses of the word. Sabrina does a ton to save and help Nick (to the point of overlooking her own pain and betrayal), but she can’t do it on her own because nobody can: everybody needs a net of community to catch them.

I mentioned that Book 3 was about friendship because it sets up Part 3, in which friends come through for each other. Nick’s part of that. Sabrina isn’t the only one who comes for him in hell: the mortals came too, and that’s important. Nick’s the witch who is always talking about and interested in mortals, and it was interesting to explore in Path of Night how that came to be. He’s also protective of the mortals--all the witches know mortals die easily, it’s why they call them that--but Nick came to protect Harvey in Part 1, and in Part 2 argued with Sabrina that mortals shouldn’t be fighting Satan as Sabrina planned to fight Satan. Obviously he cares about Sabrina more than he cares about them, but he worries about the mortals in the same way you’d be much more concerned about a toddler toddling into battle than a ninja, even if you were in love with the ninja. It says something about a person, when their impulse is to shield the vulnerable rather than target them.

In Path of Night it was interesting to explore the potential for friendship with the mortals for Nick. Roz and he have a lot in common, as the big readers of their groups, and were open to being charmed by each other in Part 2. Theo would be an amazing friend for anyone, as he’s ride-or-die for his friends, and also very clear-eyed about them. (Not being romantically interested in them helps with that.) It would obviously be good for both Nick and Harvey to start seeing the other as a person rather than an avatar for their own insecurity. And at the end of Part 3, when Sabrina was off in hell and he certainly wasn’t trying to win her favor, Nick showed up when the mortals called, stayed for them, and fought for them. In another time, he died for them. They came for him, and he came for them. Showing up is a good start. I always love a character who shows up: Sabrina constantly, Ambrose and Hilda and Zelda fighting their god for love, Harvey squaring his shoulders and going in to shoot his brother, Theo hurling his own body at the gates of hell.

But the mortals aren’t Nick’s friends yet: they don’t really know him, and Harvey is triggered by lies, which Nick has had to live by. There is someone, though, who does know him. The big romantic plotline of Path of Night is Prudence and Ambrose coming together on adventures far from home, and the thread about friendship there is that Ambrose is working out whether Prudence likes Nick romantically, or Ambrose himself. In Part 1, Prudence is spiky with Nick because he just dumped her and her sisters (as told in book 1). In Part 3, she’s mad at him and tells Sabrina they don’t work as a couple because she has no time for men who betray women, and Prudence is mad at him in Book 3 too. But in Book 2 and Part 2, she’s helping Nick, hanging out with him, and talking him up to Sabrina. It’s Ambrose, the oldest of the coded-young characters and one of the few with a loving home, who sees and names Prudence’s feelings for Nick, for whom she has a pet name. It’s complicated, in their world and with their respective pain, but he is her friend. She’s the one he opens up to at the end of Part 3.

But Nick doesn’t know Prudence is his friend. Lucifer, known as the Father of Lies, systematically takes apart Nick in Path of Night, to get him to the place he’s in when we hit Part 3. He has to convince Nick that what Nick always feared is true: nobody cares. There’s the physical torture element, which I touch on lightly but enough to be clear it happened, but wrestling with inner demons means more. To quote Faulkner, ‘the only thing worth writing about is the human heart at conflict with itself.’ Nick imagines sleeping a lot throughout Path of Night, imagines peace (another epigraph for a Nick chapter is Dante’s ‘Peace to your hungry soul’), but he’s not really sleeping and there’s never any peace--I deliberately made him more and more tired as the story goes on. Not only tired, but sick at heart as the devil tempts him: he’s offered books, a return to childhood and his mother, a return to school, the story of epic romance he wants to be the hero of, mortal acceptance and affection, and finally Prudence as a friend he trusts to tell him the truth. When he uses his sharp mind to discern flaws in all Lucifer’s illusion he’s shown just enough reality to hurt him. (Harvey and Sabrina have much pain and history to work out and there’s love there, as shown by the two names on Sabrina’s candle, but Sabrina and the Fright Club are all risking their lives to save Nick, and Lucifer sure doesn’t want Nick to realize that: Lucifer’s trying to induce despair.)

When we see how someone is tempted we also see what they value. In Nick’s case it’s his mother’s love, his mother’s books, a home, romantic love from Sabrina, mortal connection, friends, his school and the opportunities for relationships and knowledge it offers. Then we see everything Nick wants stripped away from him, exposed as illusion. To quote from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, one of CAOS’s forebears in the genre and because I love Buffy, ‘Take all that away, and what’s left?’ The answer is ‘Me.’ When all that’s left is you, then you just might be enough. Even if you always feared you wouldn’t be.

At the end of Path of Night, I couldn’t have Nick be saved, or even have Nick realize he was worth saving, but I wanted the ending to be as happy for him as it could be, by showing my audience that there was hope for him to be found, in all senses of the word. I wanted the reader to feel they’d learned more about who he was, gained understanding of his flaws, that there was greatness in him despite said flaws. Sabrina and the mortals ARE coming to rescue him. Prudence DOES care about him. And saying no, in that loneliest and darkest place, meant something.

So. That’s Nick’s hero moment for me.

#chilling adventures of sabrina #caos #nick scratch #nabrina #sabrina spellman #prudence blackwood #harvey kinkle #theo putnam #roz walker #zelda spellman #ambrose spellman #hilda spellman #path of night #caos books #lilith #prince caliban

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coppicefics · 4 years ago

Photo

Masked Omens: Week Six

[Image Description: Image 1 - A simple rendition of the Masked Singer UK logo, a golden mask with colourful fragments flying off of it. The mask has a golden halo and a golden devil tail protruding from either side. Below, gold text reads ‘Masked Omens’.

Image 2 - A page from the Entertainment section of the Capital Herald, dated Saturday, 30th January 2021. Full image description and transcript below cut. End ID.]

Read the fic here!

The Capital Herald - Saturday 30th January, 2021 Entertainment, page 13

Top story (continued from facing page): -talk filming, fans and family with 'Three Card Monte' star -finished, and hotly tipped for several major awards come the season, what does Dame Angela have in the pipeline? She's tight-lipped, but the question makes her smile. “Naturally I don't want to give too much away – an actress must maintain some mystery lest the camera fall out of love with her – but I can tell you I have several options in mind, and some of them are very exciting.” But is it a question of which project to take on, or which to take on first? “Well, of course, there are no guarantees, but... yes, I imagine some of them will wait.” It's an unusual level of power for an actor to wield, but at this stage in her career Dame Angela is more than entitled to wield it. How does she feel about winning the showbiz game so spectacularly? “Oh, I feel as though I've been playing a game of my own devising, to which even I don't know the rules.” She laughs. “No, but really, I don't think I've ever thought of it as playing a game. I go up for the parts I think are interesting or challenging, and I've been fortunate enough to get them more often than not. Then, when the part is finished, I move on to the next thing I want to do. There's no strategy, not really, not on my part. Naturally, my agent might tell you something very different!” Having the right agent can certainly be the key to success in the entertainment industry, and Dame Angela has been with Derek Mette, of MetteTalent, for many years now.“More than I care to admit,” she tells me with a laugh, “Derek has been with me since the beginning, really. We're old friends, at this point – our families exchange Christmas cards every year.” Family can be a challenge for someone who's trying to keep the momentum of their career going, and Dame Angela surprised the world when she took a year out of acting to give birth to her son, Anthony.“Yes, at that time it simply wasn't done; one could have a career, or one could have a family. Especially since I was very much on my own with it all. But I was able to get back in front of the cameras quite quickly, and I wouldn't change things for the world. Becoming a mother made me a better actress, I think, because it opened up that whole range of experiences. The highs and the lows of childrearing.” In fact, Dame Angela starred alongside young Anthony in A is for Apple when he was only eight months old. He briefly followed in her footsteps after leaving school, and seemed set for similar levels of industry acclaim. But it all came to a devastating halt when he developed an addiction that led to him being discovered unconscious in his trailer on the set of The Grasswater Affair. He'd overdosed. “I don't like to talk about it,” Dame Angela says, her mouth downturned. “I found it very hard. But now, of course, he's been in recovery for many years, and he does his little plays all around the country. It's behind us, and I'd like it to stay that way.” A change of subject, then; what does she make of the rumours that she is currently performing as a costumed character on The Masked Singer UK? “On- I'm sorry, what's that?” I show her a clip on my phone. “Good heavens, no.” But isn't that exactly what she'd say if it was her? “Well, I don't know. I'd never even seen it until just now. But it all seems a little childish for my taste. I'm far too committed to my art to do light entertainment.” Time, it seems, will tell. But if Dame Angela is indeed a participant in The Masked Singer, she hides it well.There’s time for one last question, so I try to make it a good one. What, I ask, does Dame Angela consider her proudest achievement to date? “Oh, that’s a difficult question. I simply couldn’t choose... Naturally, becoming a Dame was a great honour, and not one I expected at all, which made it all the more precious. But then, the first time I won an Oscar was a real moment of pride, and one that’s never soured with time. And, of course, every award and every round of applause is a moment of pride for any actor; it means I’ve done the job, and done it well, and that it has been appreciated by the audience in front of me. What more can any actress ask for?” MARY HODGES Dame Angela Crowley’s latest film, Three Card Monte, is in cinemas from the 12th of February.

Centre right: OWAS to host ‘magic’ event Literary society’s next gala theme announced The Oscar Wilde Appreciation Society has announced the theme for its spring social event, which is to be inspired by all things magical. Famed far beyond its actual membership for its lavish balls and banquets, the society has in the past held events held together by motifs such as 'Luck', which took place in a casino, 'Snow', which included a trip to a ski slope, and 'Flight', during which all participants had the opportunity to glide above the dancers on wires. This time, the theme is 'Magic', and while details are still being kept tightly under wraps, it seems fairly certain that Aziraphale Fell, London's most celebrated stage magician and a long-time member of the Oscar Wilde Appreciation Society, will be performing at the event. When the society throws open its doors each season, it's quite possible to go all night without seeing a single regular member of the club. While the organising committee is out in full force, soliciting donations from the wealthy patrons who attend the parties, and the society president stands up to make a toast at the beginning of dinner, it's largely outsiders who descend upon the Oscar Wilde Appreciation Society's chosen venue. In fact, the scale and opulence of these events has led some to speculate that OWAS is not a literary appreciation society at all, but rather a shadowy networking opportunity for the rich and powerful. Indeed, at the 'Flight' event, it's rumoured that two world leaders met in the queue for the wire-flying and laid the foundations for a later trade deal between their nations. The society's everyday goings-on are, I'm told, far more pedestrian and literary. But - as the current president, Edwin Pearce, often says - “what's an Oscar Wilde society without a little hedonism?” There's altruism, too, however; the society makes a substantial donation to a charity chosen by the members each year. This year's charity has yet to be determined, but last year the children of the Wessex Street Hospital enjoyed a very special Christmas thanks to a £20,000 cheque from the Oscar Wilde Appreciation Society. Much of the funds required to make such lavish events and donations possible are raised at those very events, which take place once a season. Tickets for the 'Magic' event have not yet been released, but previous events' tickets have sold for anything from £200 to £2000. A limited number of reduced price tickets are generally made available, so keep an eye on the Oscar Wilde Appreciation Society's website at oscarwas.org.uk if you're looking to get in without breaking the bank. If The Amazing Mr Fell will indeed be performing at the event, it might explain his recent reduction in performances – his show has gone down from six nights a week to just four, eliminating his Wednesday and Saturday performances. Magic fans in the capital can therefore hold out hope that once preparations for his upcoming performance are over, tickets might become easier to obtain. And, of course, the 'Magic' event itself promises to be one big avocado. CITRON DEUX-CHEVAL

Centre right: Drawing back the veil again Mystic Madame reportedly plotting TV return Two years after Drawing Back the Veil with Telepathic Tracy last aired, its old Saturday night slot is set to become vacant again – and rumours abound that the show may be set to return. For the last two years, live draws have been condensed into a fifteen-minute slot on BBC One, followed by an episode of one of the longer 45-minute drama series the BBC tend to favour these days. Much of the pageantry that used to go along with the weekly draw was shifted unceremoniously onto the National Lottery's YouTube channel or website, and the delivery of the actual results became more akin to the reading of a weather report before a return to the usual programming of the channel. Now, however, the BBC has put out a press release announcing that the National Lottery will now return to a half-hour draw show, allowing for 'a little more excitement and glamour'. This, the press release suggests, could take the form of a very brief trivia game before the draw, a return to celebrities wishing everyone luck before pressing the all-important button, a chance to showcase musical acts during the show, or some combination of the above. I'm all for a return to the showbiz nature of the nation's most mainstream gambling ring, but it's the shortening of the subsequent timeslot that has my attention. Already, just a day after the BBC's announcement, speculation is rife about what – and who – might be about to fill that second half-hour time slot. Most of the shows the BBC produces these days are designed for a 45-minute or hour-long format, and producers will be understandably reluctant to try to condense comedy, gameshows or drama into such a small space – especially given the National Lottery's occasional tendency to overrun. Pre-recorded shows have come unstuck before when the Camelot machines have jammed or some other calamity has befallen the draw, most notably in 2019 when the initial episode of Season 6 of Sherlock aired without the crucial first three minutes that explained the detective's cunning escape from the previous season's climactic scrape. It's the sort of situation that calls for a steady hand and an almost supernatural ability to adjust to disaster. Who better to take on the challenge than a woman who's had years of practice? Telepathic Tracy, the Mystic Madame, is very much still working her mysterious ways despite her departure from our TV screens – notably in The New Aquarian - and what better way to follow a disappointing lotto result than with the reassurance that this week, your luck will be better, or at the very least predictable? I, for one, predict Madame Tracy's triumphant return to television - and what's more, I welcome it. EDWARD BIGGS

Advertisement, bottom left: [Image Description: A grayscale photo of a warzone, with plumes of smoke. A smiling woman walks away from the destruction; she is in full colour and has artificially-enhanced red hair. Text is overlaid, as transcribed below. End ID.] When the news breaks, my hair doesn’t. Carmine Zugiber. Be bold. Be strong. Be Vibrant. [Image Description: The word Vibrant appears in red and is in a different font, like a logo. This is the case each time it appears. End ID.] Vibrant Flame Red Bottom right: Correction In Andy Sandalphon's column on page 15 of last Saturday's paper (23rd January), he stated that folk music made by an American is Country music. Several readers got in touch to explain that this is not, in fact, the case, and we would like to set the record straight. Country, or country and western, music is a very specific type of folk music, and while often associated with American artists, it is not simply the American version of folk. Furthermore, music must fit specific criteria to be considered country, and Anathema's does not. While country music belongs to the overarching genre of folk, not all folk music is country music, regardless of the nationality of the performer. We apologise sincerely for the mistake; while every effort is made to include only accurate information, errors do occasionally slip through. We regret the misunderstanding, and hope to do better in future. If you notice an error in any of our articles, please let us know as soon as possible by emailing [email protected]. We appreciate your help to keep our newspaper as accurate and factual as possible.

[End Transcript]

#masked omens #mo week six #very much fake news #good omens fic #mine #masked singer au #overdose tw

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someguynamedstevewrites · 5 years ago

Text

Unwanted House Guest: Valentine’s Run - Part 4

Should probably mention that this is based on characters created by @tamarinfrog , @searching-for-bananaflies , @cafe-cardamari , @bottledupcomic , etc.

And based on the video games Splatoon, Splatoon 2, and Splatoon 2: Octo Expansion by Nintendo.

Arnick let go of the Octoling Girl’s hands, walked over to the bear statue shaped radio, picked it up, and began shaking it like a deadbeat that owed him money. “ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND!?” he shouted.

“What’s the problem?” asked Mr. Grizz.

“The problem, SIR…” Arnick said with disdain, “is that if I understand correctly, you expect me to teach three rookies, who barely speak any Inklish, and turn them into Salmon Running savants, using sink or swim tactics, in nothing more than a few hours! Yet that can’t possibly be right because you’d have to be COMPLETELY MAD TO THINK THAT’S POSSIBLE!!!”

“Oh it’s not that bad-“ the bear statue said before Arnick cut him off.

“YOU! WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE COLOR!?” Arnick barked while he pointed an accusatory finger at the young Octoling boy.

<Uhh…> the poor boy stuttered, <…what did he say?>

<I think he asked you what your favorite color is, but…> the oldest Octoling said before trailing off.

“OH MY COD!” Arnick wailed while once again screaming at the statue and shaking it like a Polar-Roid Picture, “SOME OF THEM DON’T EVEN SPEAK INKLISH AT ALL!! HOW CAN YOU POSSIBLY EXPECT US TO COMMUNICATE IF WE ARE LITERALLY SPEAKING TWO DIFFERENT LANGUAGES!!!”

“Oh I’m sure you can figure something out,” the voice from the statue said, “I mean you’ve worked with Octolings before, right?”

“BECAUSE THEY SPOKE INKLISH YOU IRKSOME URSINE!!”

Arnick bellowed while once again shaking the statue like a Magic 8-Ball that said his chances of winning the lottery looked dim.

The youngest Octoling girl looked up to her big sister and asked, <Is… Is he okay?>

<I’m… not sure,> she said with hesitation, <he’s using Inklish words I’ve never heard before.>

“Whoa! Whoa! Easy there, kid! You don’t wanna break the radio and have it deducted from your pay now, do yah?” Reasoned the statue. Arnick stopped bear-handling the statue, but still wanted to give it a few more shakes for good measure. “That’s better. Now look,” Mr. Grizz explained, “I understand this isn’t the ideal situation or anything, I get that. Really, I do! But you’re a smart guy, and one tough employee to boot! If anyone can make this work, it’d be you!”

Flattery was not going to get Mr. Grizz anywhere with Arnick at this point.

“So just chin up. Be professional. And do your best! You got this, kid,” the statue encouraged, “now why don’t you go over there and meet your co-workers. Make a good first impression on them. Okay? Okay. Grizz, out!”

The radio shut off and there was an awkward silence that filled the air. Arnick set the wooden bear statue/radio down on the small table it was originally sitting on. He looked unnaturally calm and serene.

While showing no emotion on his face, Arnick reached into his pockets as though he was looking for something. Seconds later, he began looking around the boat after not finding what he wanted in his pockets. His eyes settled on a fold-able wooden chair that was sitting peacefully on the main deck. Arnick nodded to himself as if saying, “Ahh, yes. This should do it.”

Before describing what happens next, it is worth mentioning that Arnick does have some experience with the Octarian language. After living with Tetrox for a few years now, he naturally picked up on some words here and there that she would mutter under her breath, or slip out in normal conversation (which was rare because she spoke spectacular Inklish). Arnick had also done a little self study on how to speak Octarian off and on again over the years.

Now that Arnick was going to be working with three Octolings in a team, his knowledge of the Octarian language began to surface to the forefront of his mind.

…unfortunately, all of it was language that should never be spoken out loud in public.

<COD!

DAMN!!

FFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUU~>

———————————-

<HOLY SEA COW!> Aadi said with a mix of awe and surprise.

*SMAAAAASSSSHHH*

Nalini’s tentacles were pointing straight up well before the foul-mouthed Inkling slammed the wooden chair against the deck railing. She dove to cover Lajni’s ears as if hearing the steady stream of Octarian obscenities and euphemisms would melt them off her head. Nalini hadn’t heard such a cascade of curses and swears that flowed like a river since her days in Octarian boot camp.

The Inkling was now jumping up and down on the wooden fragments of the former chair, kicking a piece every now and then like he was punting a Clam Blitz Ball. Nalini tried to focus on what he was saying over the sound of the crunching wood and could make out, <-AUDACITY OF THAT POMPOUS FISH MONGER WHO NEEDS TO HAVE A HARPOON SHOVED RIGHT UP HIS-> before tuning it out again. She looked over to her brother who seemed rather impressed with the Inkling for what Nalini feared was for all the wrong reasons.

The Inkling then picked up a chair leg that somehow was not yet smashed and then began hitting it against the railing. One thing was very clear to Nalini:

…this guy had some anger issues.

About two minutes later, the Inkling had finally stopped raging and was now trying desperately to catch his breath. Being that angry took a lot of energy, and it showed! Finally getting a breath in, the inking turned around and began to walk towards the three siblings.

Lajni and Aadi quickly dived behind Nalini’s back when the inkling approached them. He coughed, cleared his throat, and then tried to explain in broken Octarian, <Sorry… I was… upset…>

Nalini wasn’t entirely sure if she should answer him in Octarian or Inklish at first, but before she could decide, Aadi’s instinctively blurted out, <Upset? I’d hate to see him when he’s->

<AADI!> Nalini scolded him with a shushing gesture. She turned and addressed the Inkling. <Is everything okay?>

<Yes…> the lanky Inkling said. It looked like he wanted to say more but wasn’t sure how to say it properly. Nalini was surprised he was having this much trouble communicating after rambling off nearly every single Octarian expletive, curse, and swear word just seconds ago. <Hard… explain…> he continued before Nalini cut him off in Inklish.

“It be easier if I speak the Inklish?” Asked Nalini.

“Yes, thank you,” said the Inkling, “and my apologies for earlier. Just to be clear, I was not angry at any of you. I was angry at Mr. Grizz since I think it is highly unfair to all of us to be put in this difficult situation.”

Nalini blinked as she processed what the Inkling had just said. He was speaking very formally, but also using words she wasn’t familiar with here and there. She smiled back, looking to make a good impression (and relieved to know his anger wasn’t because of who they were or anything), “It is understandable, Mr. Sixwayfrumsunday”

“My name is Arnick,” said the Inkling.

“Eh?” Nalini squeaked while suddenly feeling very embarrassed, “Ah… I… I am sorry about-”

“No, no. It’s my fault, really,” Arnick interjected, “I shouldn’t have let my usual snark and sarcasm get the better of me,” said Arnick, “Given our respective language barriers and cultural differences, I can see how you could misunderstand what I was saying. I’m sure my diatribe of foul Octarian language didn’t help either.”

Nalini understood roughly half of what Arnick said. She was now beginning to have serious doubts about taking Lajni and Aadi with her today. She hadn’t considered the possibility that they would be paired with an Inkling since she had been on all Octoling teams on her last four runs. She thought that was the way things normally went, but apparently, on those first four runs, she just happened to get lucky. She began to wonder if there was a way out of this, and said, “Maybe… Running Salmon… Not such good idea today, Mr. Arnick.”

“Stilton,” Arnick corrected.

Nalini was once again surprised, “Eh?”

<My name is Arnick Stilton,> Arnick said in Octarian to make sure that he was clear, “You can address me as Arnick, if you wish.”

Nalini was feeling extremely embarrassed. She thought she was pretty good at Inklish, but after speaking with Arnick for just a few minutes, she felt woefully inadequate for handling this situation. She looked down at the ground and could feel a small tear form in her eye.

<HEY!> Aadi shouted at Arnick, <WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO MY SISTER!? YOU MADE HER CRY!>

<AADI! STOP!> Nalini ordered.

<But Nalini…> Aadi said with a figurative tail between his legs.

<He didn’t say anything mean! It’s just…> Nalini paused as he she admitted what she didn’t want to admit, <…I’m having more trouble understanding him than I thought I would.>

Lajni chimed in, <Even after all those classes?>

Nalini nodded, <I’m just… so embarrassed right now. That’s all. So don’t be mean to Arnick, okay? He wasn’t being mean.>

After the tantrum Arnick threw, Lajni was skeptical. <Really?> She asked innocently.

<Yes, really,> Nalini confirmed before turning to Arnick, “I am sorry. My brother… he get too… excited sometimes. Please be forgiving him.” Nalini then wrapped an arm around Aadi’s shoulder and said, “This… is my younger brother. His name is Aadi.”

Arnick extended a hand for a handshake, “Good to meet you, Aadi.”

Glancing at the boy with the Afro, Arnick could see the look in Aadi’s eyes. He was glaring at Arnick as though he wasn’t too sure about him. Given Arnick’s recent behavior and attitude, Arnick couldn’t really blame him for being suspicious. Not to mention how he’d react if he knew about Arnick’s past of being very anti-Octarian.

“I am sorry. He no speak Inklish,” Nalini explained.

The weight of the situation began to sink in for Arnick. Given that Aadi couldn’t understand a single word Arnick said, there was no way to give him any reassurance that he was a decent fellow. Arnick then turned to the youngest of the three Octolings who looked like she had just turned fourteen and finally got her humanoid form. She seemed scared, but curious, and didn’t show any signs of distrust like Aadi did.

“This is my younger sister. Her name is Lajni,” Nalini introduced.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Lajni,” Arnick said while extending a hand.

This time, Arnick put on the most cheerful smile he could muster to try and put the young girl at ease. After some hesitation, Lajni stepped from behind her sister and shook Arnick’s hand. Arnick’s smile became even more genuine as he began to feel like he was making progress.

With introductions out of the way, now was the time to get down to business. With two teammates that couldn’t understand any Inklish, he needed to work out something and fast before their shift started. Arnick immediately marched over to the table and was about to take a seat before realizing his seat was the one he had pulverized into sawdust a few minutes earlier. Grabbing the other chairs and putting them around the table, he called out, “Nalini, could you bring Aadi and Lajni over here? We’re going to need to work something out and fast, or we’re all going to be fish food!”

To Be Continued...

#Unwanted House Guest #Arnick Stilton #Splatoon #Octolings #Nalini Aadi and Lajni #Mr. Grizz #salmon run

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trauma-13 · 4 years ago

Note

All the asks 😈

Who hurt you the most?

My dad. He essentially walked out of my life when I was 12-13, and blames me for our lack of relationship and refuses to acknowledge his part in it.

Who have you hurt the most?

Oh hell. Uh, I really don’t know.

Who do you miss the most?

My mom, and my friends that I don’t see on a regular basis. @car-one-responding i’m looking at you.

Who do you want out of your life the most?

Happiness and to feel like I’ve made a difference in someones life. If that’s a stranger, a friend, my son, my husband, doesn’t matter. I like helping people. (I misread, I thought this said WHAT do you want out of life, not WHO. So to answer the original question, I wouldn’t mind my dads wife wandering off somewhere and never returning.)

Who had the biggest positive impact on you?

There’s been quite a few people. My mom and two of my nursing mentors are the first ones who come to mind. My mom taught me to never give up on your goals, no matter how hard it is and how much you may struggle. She taught me to what a good mother is, and was always present in my life no matter how busy she was in her own life. She gave me my love of nursing and helping others from a very young age, and continued to inspire me to join the nursing profession. She continues to inspire me to further my dream within this career. My nursing mentors are a married couple I used to work with, who I still speak to on a fairly regular basis. They’re the epitome of amazing nurses. D is the kindest person, she gives every patient a piece of her heart and cares for them like they’re her own family (even the frustrating ones). She’s so loving to her friends and family as well and goes above and beyond to help them anyway she can. M is also an incredibly caring nurse, who is the smartest human I’ve ever met. Not just in nursing, but in every aspect. He’s continued his education into his 60s to further his career and his knowledge to provide the best care for his patients. When I first met M, I had just started at my prior job, I was fairly quiet just because I didn’t really know anyone yet. I had worked there maybe a week or two, he put an arm around my shoulders and said “You’re kind of quiet, do you want to be friends?” and immediately he was my favorite person. Of all the people I’ve worked with through my 10 yrs in health care, D and M are the ones I miss the absolute most.

Who had the biggest negative impact on you?

Again, my dad. I have very good and fun memories with him when I was little, like 10 and under. However, he decided his wife and her children were more important than his own and he walked out of my life. It took a VERY long time (probably 10 yrs) for me to get over his abandonment, and accept that it wasn’t my fault and there is nothing wrong with me as a person that caused it.

Who do you wish you could be honest with?

I’m a pretty fuckin honest person, and I tell people like it is. There aren’t many people I don’t just speak my mind to.

Who have you harbored (any kind of!) secret feelings towards?

I’m sure I have in the past, but there isn’t anyone who comes to mind specifically.

Who would the world be better off without?

The cheeto in charge of our country. Sorry, not even a little bit sorry.

Who do you wish you’d treated differently?

I was a dick in high school to a lot of people, and I don’t really think I had any reason.

What was the worst day of your life?

The day I got kicked out of nursing school. I obviously got back in, but it was a horrible experience.

What’s your greatest fear?

Failure.

What’s your biggest insecurity?

My knowledge level. I feel like I’m not as smart as I should/could be.

What’s your biggest regret?

Staying in my past relationship for as long as I did, and ignore all the red flags that were there since day one.

Describe your ideal world.

Cleaner air, less crime, less pollution (across the whole world), more green/renewable energy use, a safer world for my kid to grow up in. Married to my hubby, raising our son and possible a #2, to have the financial ability to help foster rescue dogs.

Describe your personal hell.

The current world we’re in.

What’s a hopeless dream you’re still holding on to?

Hmm. I feel like I’ve always had very realistic dreams. So probably the slim chance that I’ll win the lottery haha!

What’s the most embarrassed you’ve ever been?

Probably when my douche bag ex got shitfaced, the PD called on him, they called fire for an evaluation because he had a lac on his hand due to punching glass, they wanted to take him to the ER and because he was absolutely obliterated he couldn’t refuse annnnd they took him to the ER I worked at. When I got there he was in full on 4 pt restrains and had been given the magical vitamin H. I shoulda turned and walked out then (or one of the many red flags before....)

What’s the angriest you’ve ever been?

When said ex threatened to hurt my dogs because I told him I was done and to pack his shit and get out. He pulled a knife on me and said he would kill me and the dogs if I tried to leave him. I figured I could probably keep myself alive if he did attack me, but if he hurt my dogs I’d have gone to jail that day.

What’s the saddest you’ve ever been?

Honestly? this last week. motherhood is hard. breastfeeding is fucking hard. I was having such a difficult time with breast feeding and postpartum depression that I had legitimate suicidal thoughts with a vague plan of what I would do. I’m fine now, don’t go calling for a welfare check.

What’s the most scared you’ve ever been?

Again when douchey ex threatened my dogs. They’re my world and I would do anything to keep my kids (2 and 4 legged) safe.

What’s the most hopeless you’ve ever felt?

Also this week.

What’s the most frantic you’ve ever felt?

Frantic?? uh fuck, the most recent time I can think of was the day before my son was born, my OB told me I had to go to the OB triage at my hospital because my BP was high and she needed to monitor JTD and make sure he was okay.

What’s the bravest you’ve ever felt?

When I stood up to my douche ex as he had a knife pulled on me.

What’s the best case scenario for your future?

I’m a trauma nurse at a level 1 trauma center, hubby is done with nursing school working in his dream unit (either ED or ICU, he changes his mind daily), our son is happy and healthy, if we choose to have a second kiddo that they’re happy and healthy. We own a nice house, with a good sized yard for the 2 and 4 legged babies.

What’s the worst case scenario for you future?

Uh, I lose my rights to my son, and lose my license.

What’s the most physical pain you’ve ever felt?

Tie between labor contractions when i was complete/ready to pop the kid out, or when I had nasal surgery and they accidentally “forgot” to give me any pain medication through the whole surgery. Honestly probably the nasal surgery, it was constant, the contractions came and went, frequently, but there was a little break in between.

What’s the most emotional pain you’ve ever felt?

I’m going to go with when I found out my ex cheated on me and knocked up the girl he cheated with.

Describe a time you felt like a hypocrite.

I try really hard not to be a hypocrite, I’m sure there’s times it’s happened but I genuinely can’t think of a time off hand.

Describe a time you felt like a traitor.

I really don’t know. Again, i’m sure there’s been times, but I don’t remember any.

Describe a time you felt like a hero.

I wouldn’t necessarily say “hero” but when I’m able to help people at work, and when my knowledge and skills benefits them.

Describe a time you felt inhuman.

This last week. It’s easily one of the hardest things I’ve been through. I felt so detached from my family and I just didn’t care.

Describe a time you felt like a failure.

This last week. I felt like I was failing as a mom, and that I couldn’t do anything right because I couldn’t even feed my son in the natural way I’m meant to as a female with mammary glands.

What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?

Uh. Honestly the only thing that comes to mind is when i skipped a lease with my college roommate (the first time I went to college). It’s genuinely not that bad, but I can’t think of anything else hah.

What are you proudest of?

My son, my husband, my degree/license.

What’s your relationship with your family like?

With my husband and son, it’s great (now). With my moms side of the family it’s great as well, I talk to my mom every day, and my gramma and grampa every couple days. I’m also fairly close with my Uncle. My in-laws are pretty good too, my mother in law can get on my nerves but who’s doesn't, honestly hah! I have a decent relationship with my half-brother, Aunt and gramma (Nana) on my dads side, and my cousins. Literally the only one I have issues with is my father and his wife.

What’s your relationship with religion like?

I think organized religion is a joke. I’m completely against it. I don’t personally believe in God/Jesus/whatever, but I do believe in afterlife and that there is such a thing as past lives and reincarnation.

Talk about someone you’ve lost.

My grampy died when I was in 4th grade. He was an amazing man. He was very stoic and didn’t show his emotions much, but he always included me in whatever he was doing (fishing, camping, working in the yard, whatever it was). He showed his love in different ways, more with his actions than words.

Talk about someone who abandoned you.

I think i’ve talked about my dad enough hah

Talk about a desire you have that scares you.

To become a trauma nurse.

What’s something you wish you were capable of?

I wish I was able to do more first-responder stuff. I have the ability, just not the time currently.

What’s something you’re afraid that you’re capable of?

Becoming a trauma nurse hahah

Describe the kind of life you wish you’d been born into.

Doesn’t everyone wish they had been born into money??

Describe your worst heartbreak.

When my dads wife texted me and told me “youre a selfish bitch, and he would be better without you in his life” and he told me I was lying, even with the text proof. I was 14-15ish. That was the final straw, and when I stopped trying to have a relationship with him.

Describe your worst disappointment.

When I was in nursing school and I failed the full body assessment the first time. I was anxious as fuck and over thinking everything. I technically passed based on points, but was asked to come back and re-do it once I had time to clear my head.

Have you ever taken a fall for someone?

Taken the blame? No. Own up to your own damn mistakes.

Have you ever forced or let someone take a fall for you?

No, I take the blame for my own mistakes.

Have you ever done serious physical harm to someone?

I don’t think so??

Have you ever done serious emotional harm to someone?

I hope not, but maybe.

Have you ever self-harmed?

It’s been about 5 years since, but yes.

Have you ever attempted suicide?

Attempted no, but had a plan, yes.

Have you ever stolen something?

On accident when I was like 5 hahah We were in line at the grocery store, an you know they have all the little toys and candy and wtf ever at the check out lanes. Well I was looking at something and mom told me lets go, so I continued looking at it and followed her off. Mom realized, took me back inside to return it and apologize and the manager ripped my ass in front of the check outs.

Have you ever cheated on someone?

No.

Have you ever been cheated on?

Yes.

Have you ever taken revenge on someone?

Nah, people have a way of ruining their own lives.

Have you ever seriously considered killing someone?

Not had a plan to, but remember my ex threatening my dogs? Had he done it, i’d have attacked him.

Have you ever betrayed someone who trusted you?

I don’t think so?

Have you ever experienced something supernatural or unexplainable?

Yeah, I regularly experience things all the time.

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pencil-free · 5 years ago

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Red Gold - Chapter 2

Genre: Urban Fantasy Subgenre: Mystery Rating: 13+ Warnings: Blood, Violence, Magic Systems that make No Sense

My wallet wasn’t pleased to open itself up for all the supplies I needed, but the feeling of cleaning up the space was priceless. My place, I had to remind myself every time I opened the door to sweep out another pile of leaves. My house, I repeated when I whacked at all the spider webs in the corner. I didn’t know if I would ever call it a home, but it sure looked homey when it was finally clear of the rest of nature’s garbage. Quaint. Cozy. Maybe the ad hadn’t been all that wrong at all.

The main living area was certainly the definition of it. It was small, but the hardwood floors and large windows opened up the space. The hole in the ceiling was almost charming when the counters of the kitchenette against the far wall were scrubbed free of all their dust and grime. The sink had a clog but at least the water worked, and the fridge was already decorated with some grain Polaroid photos of trees I had found cleaning the bathroom. Only the bedroom was left to turn into something livable - for humans, not just for squirrels, that was. I leaned against the brook handle with a sigh directed at the door. Maybe my wish to rid the room of squirrels had cleaned it up, too. I wasn’t ready to find out just yet, and pulled out my phone instead. “Hi, honey!” I hadn’t even put the phone to my ear yet, and I waited another moment for my mom’s hello before even thinking of answering. “Hi, Mom. Dad,” I added, when I heard his quieter grumble in the background. “We didn’t think we’d hear from you so soon. Did everything go alright?” “It went,” I told her, and I leaned the broom against the wall when she scoffed. If I’d wanted to procrastinate going into the bedroom, this would do it. “Did it go well, I think you mother is asking,” my dad said. “It did.” A similar buzz of silence followed while my parents waited for the details. I wasn’t sure where to begin. The weird but probably kind landlord wouldn’t have been the best start. My mom wouldn’t have liked driving all the way back here to pick me up, but I was sure she would if she thought I was in kind of danger. Which I wasn’t. Yet. I tried to imagine what Wren would be doing right now. If I was a normal middle aged man, I would be making dinner or watching the news, not plotting the murder of a college student. “Honey?” “It went great. The room-” I started without really thinking. “-is…” I turned in a quick circle and struggled to come up with something while I stared at the kitchenette. “…is a little smaller than I expected.” “I’m sure you’ll make the most of it,” my dad said, and I started to relax. Too soon. “Or you could wish it bigger,” my mom suggested with a laugh. I almost didn’t want to answer her. “That’s not how that works.” “Oh, I know, honey, I was just teasing-” I pulled the phone away from ear at the loud grumble of the phone. My dad’s low voice took over once it settled. “You don’t have to listen to your mom. She’s just worried about you being so far away but we know you’ll be fine. You’re bed is on the way along with the rest of your things.” “I wish you won’t forget to call us sometimes!” I groaned and was almost pleased to hear my dad give his own drawn out sigh. “Don’t worry,” I told him, and despite the frustration I couldn’t help but smiling a little. “I won’t let her get to me. I have too much cleaning still left to do.” He muttered something about leaving me too it, and, for a brief moment I was glad to hear silence from the other end of the phone. That was, until I picked up the broom again and remembered why I had bothered to make the call in the first place. Insensitive jokes aside, the conversation with my parents had done its job - I’d been successfully distracted from the fact that I’d cleaned most of my new living space. I stared the door to the bedroom down and the knots on the wood stared back at me. I tightened my hold on the broomstick. Sweeping. I was just sweeping. It was a totally normal thing to do, I told myself. He lungful of resolved air I took in to bolster my confidence was knocked out of me by a series of coughs as dust and debris jumped into the air at the swing of the door. I waved my hand in front of my face and blinked back the tears from my irritated eyes. “I wish-” I started and I clamped my mouth shut hard enough to draw blood. I wish this would stop happening. I dragged my watery eyes to the closet. The doors were still open, the shelves were still empty, and the hangers were still bare. The floorboards were dusty with rotted leaves like the rest of the cabin, but the thin layer was undisturbed despite the angry squirrels I’d startled earlier in the day. The whole nest was missing, really. Every single stick was gone, every stray clump of fur, disappeared. Like it hadn’t even existed in the first place. Which was what had happened, really. I’d wished it. No more squirrels to run about the bedroom just as I’d wanted it. I clenched my jaw and swept out the closet before I worked on the rest of the room. It had always been like this, ever since I could, probably, talk. Whatever I said, as luck would have it, would come true. At least, that was what I called it. Luck. Some of the things I asked for were realistic, like the few times I wished to find the last piece of cake in the fridge before anyone else could get to it. Other times, the odds of getting what I wanted were astronomically low - but they happened. So long as I asked for it. There were other rules, too, that I’d learned as I grew up. Others could benefit, too, so long as they were close enough to me. It didn’t matter if I knew them or not, as long as I heard them, they’d get what they wished for. I could even wish for something to happen to someone far away and it would happen every. Single. Time. I don’t remember there ever being a time my luck had failed. It was scary to think about sometimes. And definitely weird. But mostly scary. And it was scariest when others started to notice. For being so weird, I never had a hard time in school. I wasn’t bullied, no, it was the exact opposite. Despite my best efforts to be the quiet, shy, and very normal kid in high school, I was popular. Not enough to win any kind of student body award or cliched prom date invitations, thankfully, but I had a wide circle of friends and plans for nearly every weekend penciled in for weeks in advance. But popular enough for everyone to know who I was and… and what I could do. At first it was just a series of coincidences. Someone would leave their wallet at home and after a sighed I wish I’d remembered it, they’d find it in their pocket a moment later. When we went shopping there was always a muttered I wish I could get these directed at new shoes or pants and, one even after another, we’d either find enough money for it or be given them. All lottery tickets became winning ones, all raffles were won, and bingos were called. The trouble we got into should have put us in the hospital but we always came home for dinner unscathed. It was like magic, and it was easy to get lost in. My friends and I used it innocently enough, at the start. We got into the movies for free and wished our grades up. We got double the snacks out vending machines. Then lottery tickets we found on the side of the road turned into scratch tickets we bought in the store and those turned into real betting. I wasn’t interested in it but I was always encouraged to join my friends at the casinos we were, luckily, never caught at. Which is why I was supposed to be there, I guess. But then one of my friends called me in the middle of the night with a plan that sounded more thought out than a crazy sleep deprived idea. It was still a stupid plan, of course, but he’d thought it out. And the only piece of his puzzle he needed was me. I thought if I said yes I could try to talk him out of the plan and put a stop to his crazy scheme. I was lucky, sure, but there was no way I was lucky enough to get anyone through a bank robbery. I was though. At least, lucky enough. No one knew two high school kids had booked it out of a bank with maybe a thousand dollars in their backpacks until the next morning. My luck never left me, but I hadn’t wished for my friend to remain lucky. I didn’t see him again for a few days, and when I eventually did, it was his mugshot on the news. There was no mention of an accomplice. I’d sworn off my powers - or whatever they were - after that. I stopped hanging out with my friends, though I think they stopped hanging out with me around the same time as the robbery. I stopped wishing for things until, eventually, I started to think that maybe I’d just been crazy. I could never forget what happened that night at the bank, but with time and distance I could at least pretend it unfolded like something normal. Normal. That’s what I was trying to be. College was normal. If I kept my head down and my feet in line, the same thing couldn’t happen again. I wouldn’t let it. No one would see me as a lucky charm to keep in hand and do with as they pleased. I would just be the quiet kid I’d always wanted to be. Moving all the way across the state felt like it’d helped a little. I hoped Monday, the start of the new school year, would help even more.

#writeblr #my writing #red gold wip #fiction #urban fantasy #murder mysteries

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alternislatronemhq · 4 years ago

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Congrats, RALUCA, you have been accepted to AL for the role of EMMA VANITY (FC: Lily James). Wow, your app was TRULY fantastic! I was hanging on to every word, loving each bit. You’ve flushed Emma out in such a beautiful way, and I for one cannot wait to see how she progresses in this plot! Really well done, I’m so excited you’re here! Please send in your blog (no sideblogs for first characters, please) in the next 24 hours and be sure to take a look at our new player checklist. Welcome home (once again), we’re so excited to have you join the family!

OOC

name — raluca age — 20, but i’m turning 21 on the 15th of july pronouns — she/her/hers timezone — gmt+2

IC Overview

name — Vanity, Emma faceclaim — Lily James age — 25 gender — Cis-female. Women who would fan themselves endlessly while sipping her mother’s 5 o’clock tea would say female as if it were a barrier. They would point out that she was a lady, and that therefore, she should keep her back straightened, she should brush her hair, she should never say that word again out loud. Yet, her parents never asked Emma to put on a skirt because the Rowles are visiting. They never treated her like a little bird, like a future bride in training that they would marry off as soon as graduation. Her father had many faults, but never did he force Emma into the thin, cage-shaped stereotype that was female in their society. She was his heir. She learned to ride winged horses at ten years old. She was taken to saloons where men drank firewhiskey and talked business at fourteen. She wasn’t scolded after stealing her father’s cigars one summer at fifteen — she couldn’t escape getting enrolled among the Death Eaters as she turned seventeen. Therefore, Emma is a cis female, but the definition her parents taught her differs from the one used by her childhood friends.

sexuality — Pansexual. Her sexuality seeks personality more than anything else. She’s attracted to all those with a fire within, who inspire her to be worse, who make her laugh, who have something to say. Obsessive yet easy-going, she falls in love quickly and gives up hard. Whatever makes her heart beat change has claim over the said heart forever.

patronus — The memories she has lived are sprinkled with sheer happiness. Getting drunk and swimming in the Black Lake at midnight, winning the Inter-House Quidditch Cup while being Captain, getting a hundred galleons at the lottery all made her smile spread all the way to her ears, but nothing filled her whole heart with joy. She hasn’t even properly lived, in her opinion. Casting a patronus is a sensitive subject for a witch who always wanted to be first at everything, but finds it difficult to convert happiness into magic. However, if she were able to conjure a patronus, it would undoubtedly be a winged horse, namely an Abraxan Winged Horse. Abraxan Winged Horse - A breed of winged horse, gigantic in size and extremely powerful. They are selective eaters and usually require forceful handling. As a Patronus, they represent power, determination, and a free spirit.

boggart — This would be easier. In the past years, she ran on fear rather than happiness as fuel. These days, it would definitely be her father returned from Azkaban. She fears what life path he desires for her. She fears that disappointed look on his face when he notices her disgust for everything the war and the Dark Lord stand for. She fears the mental image of him destroyed by a soul-shattering prison, and, in few words, she fears him no matter if he dies in Azkaban, if he returns to make a Death Eater out of her again or if he returns to kill her for treason.

IC In Depth

personality traits —

(ambitious:) While other people have hobbies and interests, Emma’s only passion is overachieving. She became Quidditch team Captain seeking a title to differentiate herself from her mates. She learned to throw a Quaffle because someone implied she couldn’t, in the first place. Her collection of diplomas, piled up like fallen leaves in autumn, doesn’t matter for anything but her own ego, entirely fed by a lifetime of chasing after small prizes and insignificant victories. Nothing attracts her like winning, like coming on top, whether it’s about schoolwork, about silly bets or her own life choices. She has done questionable things to land on top before, only out of pride. Despite being passive in matters of blood purity and being too comfortable to actually want to fight a war (especially on the losing side), her ambition served as sole motivation to keep going, following her father’s wish to fight for the Dark Lord and make something out of a family name that hasn’t sat next to something worthy of pride in too long.

(fickle:) Easily convinced to doubt even the steps she takes on the ground, she questions everything, all the more herself, and is ready to turn on her heels and walk in the other direction at the first glare from someone else. Persuasion has her mind on strings, toying with it at free will, and Emma wouldn’t even notice, under the spell of every person who influences her in any way. Encouraged by peer pressure and naturally inclined to struggle until everyone liked her, she is often remembered by her worst, most impulsive decisions, executed because someone thought it would be funny. More importantly, her father’s aspirations for her left a permanent mark on her forearm, and she had no power fighting that decision.

(free-spirited:) While taking every piece of advice religiously, worrying that everyone’s mind but her own saw bigger truths that she was missing, she loves being in charge of her afternoons. She doesn’t want to be told what to do — not out loud and not consciously — because the peace and the quiet are her most comfortable state of being. She craves adventures and untied, tangled hair, spontaneous dips in stranger lakes and kisses from people she doesn’t know the name of. She despises cages and has a predisposition towards flying — be it on a broom or her favorite winged horse. Emma seldom knows what to do, what path to take and whether to trust her own mind or not — but she would rather cope with her uncertainties without having so many questions to answer and so many responsibilities no one ever wished for.

(chaotic:) An agitated daughter turned into a radioactive teenager turned into a messy young adult. Emma doesn’t know how to stand still, like she doesn’t know the first thing about order and stability. She learned how to run long before she could walk, and that shows in her behavior everyday. Wrong decisions made in the spur of the moment tie with some sort of natural, charming clumsiness — and these describe her to the last comma. She talks too much and most of her sentences don’t have an ending, because she never stops spinning infinitive ideas back and forth in her mind.

character biography —

Perhaps out of lack of blue blood in her veins, Emma never quite fit in according to the pureblooded standards. Her mother was thought to give birth to a boy up until the first time Emma opened her eyes for the first time towards the world. Due to health complications, it was said that she would never give birth again, let alone to a son. It took his father a bit to adjust and accept the imminence of not having a heir to pass on quite everything to, but he never loved Emma any less. He couldn’t have his own blood even if it spat in his face — but Emma wouldn’t gamble on that. The toddler with curious eyes never cried a day, with a childhood surrounded by majestic winged horses and an aunt that sang in the Leaky Cauldron, surrounded by pinkness and a loving family that, despite being preoccupied by tradition, never resented Emma for simply being born.

And so the child who tripped in ballet classes and couldn’t remember the word for anything, having to ask her mother, grew taller and taller everyday, as if warmth alone lifted her up. Despite not being a skilled pianist or a talented dancer, she excelled in the third most pureblooded occupation there was. When on a horse, nothing stopped her. Emma would often be scolded by a worried mother or by a half-amused father for speed, but she agreed she’d never slow down. Every chance to hop on a winged horse and ride was a chance to exceed her last speed record, and so she became competitive — by being in constant competition with herself.

Terrified to go to Hogwarts, as she feared she has never slept before without her mother’s daily kiss on her forehead, she learned that she loves large amounts of company quite soon. She would talk and talk for hours if she had someone to talk to, and strangers were her favorite interlocutors. For that, she made both friends and enemies, those who liked her guts and humor not necessarily exceeding those who wouldn’t find anyone more annoying than Emma Vanity. Still, her priority has always been to have fun, and her friends were grateful to have around someone as lovely, gullible and foolish as her. Quidditch was her biggest achievement, despite being a sport she didn’t have a passion for particularly. It just mirrored horse-riding enough to make her not miss home so much, so often. And the fact that it implied the biggest competition Hogwarts had to offer interested her even more. She became a Captain in her third year and was known not for being the most talented player rather the one who would never give up.

When the child with curious eyes turned into the teenager with desperate eyes, it was as if nothing could stop her anymore. Driven by endless ambition and no drop of shame, she was the only girl in her year who treated boys she liked as if they were the girl. Norms have never applied to her and she decided it was best if the boys feared her instead of the other way around. Never did Emma hesitate before asking somebody out on a Hogsmeade trip, but, for that, she encountered with a fair amount of rejection. Emma was unlike the rest of the pureblooded girls — not delicate, not sheepish, not elegant, not mannered — and she was unlike the other girls, but somewhere in the middle, she was sweet; like corn instead of candy. She didn’t fear labels from jealous wixen, she would argue with anyone spreading rumors… or even telling the truth about her, and conflict was never something she shuddered at the thought of. Until her father’s opinions concerning her became a problem.

Upon finishing school, she had no direction. Hogwarts, her friends, her team and even the dramas have been the entirety of her life for years, and now she didn’t want to become an adult. Yet, Mr. Vanity had big hopes regarding his daughter. As a supporter of Voldemort who didn’t stand out in any way: not being rich enough, not respected enough and certainly not having the strongest wand, he wanted to do anything to get in the Dark Lord’s good graces and it did flatter Emma that he immediately considered enrolling her. Except for the fact that Emma never wanted to fight to begin with. The cause itself preoccupied her less, even though something in her chest made her feel as if it wasn’t exactly right. Still, she complied with half a heart, only out of fear not to let down her father, who never wronged her in any way despite having many reasons to treat her as harshly as other fathers treated kids her age.

It was a relief when the Dark Lord vanished, and she was ready to take it without questioning whether it is a good or permanent thing. The only thing that mattered was that she was no longer a toy in somebody’s big hands and that the strings got cut off entirely. Her tattoo bothered her, but not enough to stop her from living a life filled with things that used to bring her joy before. It was going to take a while to rediscover them, but she was hopeful, for the first time. But that was before the aurors knocked on their door to arrest his father, letting her think she would be next. That didn’t happen, but the thought of her own father sitting blankly in an Azkaban cell made her skin itch and her head ache. She wanted him saved, but at the same time, she wanted her freedom too. Out of lack of skills regarding solving inner conflicts, she decided not to think much about that one. Still, even now that her wings are untied, she doesn’t know what to do with that freedom in the slightest.

plot ideas —

i. BLACKMAIL. People know of the mark underneath her robes. The long sleeves aren’t fooling anyone and the summertime catches her too distracted and entertained not to strip to skin with every occasion. Therefore, her prior alliance isn’t a whisper on a dark street, rather than the bitter truth she still didn’t gather up courage to swallow. The blackmail would have more to do with her official betrayal. Maybe she slipped in front of another Death Eater and confessed what is in her heart regarding the Dark Lord and her father’s say in her involvement, maybe someone observant enough read straight through her. What’s certain is that someone is using her weakness to threaten her into imminent death for her unofficial betrayal. Whether she knows this person’s identity or not, it’s open to interpretations.

ii. SPEAK NOW. It’s implied that Emma and Reginald, Mary’s husband, were romantically involved. Even if this were completely one-sided and if Emma was the only one to grow feelings for the other young man, it’s irrelevant in light of how she sees it. She sees it as a love story, beginning, middle and ending. No amount of cold water would help her wake up from the delusion that her friend — her good friend — led her on. The news about Reg’s marriage to Mary came in like a hurricane. Despite all that, it felt like a masterful idea at the time to interrupt their ceremony and voice her concern. She made a fool out of herself for this impulsive moment of unasked for truth. People still whisper about crazy Emma to this day and no hole is deep enough for her to hide whenever that particular memory resurfaces, but she’s learned to live with all of her collection of mistakes, no matter how sharp they still dig into their mind.

iii. PARTY GIRLS DON’T GET HURT. No one can brag about as many blunders as Emma, and her Hogwarts times are the golden ages of that. With a tendency to be the target of everyone’s laughter, it would only make sense that people in her generation wouldn’t think too highly of her, still remembering the girl who always tripped over her own feet after a couple of butterbeers. This plot bunny includes both people she used to be good friends with (but since adolescence is not a light summer’s breeze, they would have either fought passionately or fallen apart) and people who can’t help but scoff at the mention of her name. She wouldn’t necessarily be popular, but, as a dramatic and social person, it would only be natural that she made both pals and enemies at the age of sixteen.

iv. THE CLOAKED MEN. With a history of being on the wrong side of the previous war, aurors panic the hell out of Emma. She avoids them as if she has something to hide, but truth is, she just doesn’t want to end up where her father is. I would like a suspicious auror to seek her company purposefully and make her nervous in hopes of maybe learning something new about the Death Eaters. Getting under Emma Vanity’s skin is easier than ever when she is sweating and trying to nervously smile through that.

v. REDEMPTION. Maybe someone wants to fool Emma (see: possibly linked with the fourth plot bunny as well), maybe they want her to be well. What’s for sure is that someone is suddenly dragging her towards the light side — and she swings in between certainties without appearing to make up her mind any time soon. The promise of a clean future and better, less scary company is difficult to weigh in when, on the other side, her father’s disapproving eyes blink, in a frown, at her.

extra — I just feel like these grow from muse. I like doing edits (albeit not currently owning photoshop since I just bought a new laptop and don’t have anything on it), I think in songs and nothing’s as inspirational as a good quote, but forcing it would mean ruining it. But worry not, I will post, without spamming, plenty of those if I do get accepted.

#harry potter rp #hp rp #marauders era rp #marauders rp #al:accepted #emma vanity

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millennialdemon · 4 years ago

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So in episode 3, Wen went to the adventurer academy where he was pursued by literally all of his classmates who simultaneously wanted to be his team mate, but also assumed he would never be interested in them because he is so far above them. Then Wen met the duke, who introduced him to Alfred’s mentor, who has now taken him under his wing. For being a disciple of Alfred and passing along his possessions, he got millions of dollars, and inherited Alfred’s massive estate.

In episode 4, Wen goes on a trip with his adventuring friends to the capital for his brother’s wedding, and on the way he defeats a massive undead dragon that even Alfred’s mentor couldn’t hope to defeat. When he arrives at the capital he is immediately taken to see the king in a luxurious carriage, and for slaying the undead dragon, the king grants him the title of baronet, and gives him an award that hasn’t been given out in centuries. Nobles of the court argue with each other over what to pay Wen for the bones of the undead dragon he had collected, putting hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of dollars into Wen’s pocket again. Wen is warned that he is going to have a hard time wandering round in public now, since nobles will be begging him to marry their daughters.

He attends his brother’s wedding and finds his family back at home hasn’t sent any gifts, so he pays for them himself, to keep his brother from looking like a cheapskate and embarrassing himself at his wedding. He says it is such a pain...

Such a pain to be gifted a massive estate, such a pain to be in audience with the king, such a pain to have to listen to people debating how many hundreds of thousands of dollars to give you, such a pain to save the lives of hundreds aboard an airship from a dragon and be hailed a hero for it... good God. I’m happy I have all this money and don’t have to drink boring tea like I did at my familial home, but being famous and too rich is suuuuuuch a drag!

Being another isekai wish-fulfillment protagonist that has everything he could ever want fall into his lap thanks to just winning the magic ability lottery is such a burden!

#:The 8th Son #The 8th Son? Are you kidding me?#bro he is insufferable

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thedcdunce · 6 years ago

Text

Mister Mxyzptlk

“But I have yet to begin to shenanigan! And I shall shenanigan again and again!” - Mister Mxyzptlk

Aliases:

Clark Kent

Ruppletat

Mister Mxyztplk

Mixelplik

Gender: Male

Eyes: Black

Hair: White/ Balding

Race: Imp

Powers:

Magic

Abilities:

Journalism

Weaknesses:

Power Limitation

Mental Illness

Universe:

New Earth

Prime Earth

Base of Operations: Zrfff, 5th Dimension

Marital Status: Single

First Appearance: Superman Vol 2 #11 (November, 1987)

Powers

Magic: Mxyzptlk is nigh-omnipotent and can do virtually anything imaginable; he can manipulate anything and everything under him.

Teleportation: Mxyzptlk can disappear and reappear anywhere instantly with a thought.

Gesturify: Mxyzptlk can manipulate logic and the fundamentals of reality on a multiversal scale. He can create structured lifeforms with full complexions that don't exist just by thinking, and in that regard, he can also make any living organism vanish and become non-existent at a single thought.

Metamorphosis

Immortality: Mxyzptlk is able to use magic to survive most attacks, making him impossible to defeat without exploiting his weaknesses. He can regenerate and heal himself instantly and has high tolerance to pain.

Flight

Cosmic Awareness

Abilities

Journalism

Weaknesses

Power Limitation: Mxyzptlk's actions are also governed by restrictions that he establishes for himself. If Mxyzptlk decides that he will return to the 5th Dimension if someone convinces him to spell his name backwards, then he is obligated to comply with the regulation. Once banished, Mxyzptlk must remain in the 5th Dimension for a minimum of ninety days before returning to Earth. When Mxyzptlk is banished, all of the damage he caused would be reversed and any of his spells or magic used on Earth will fade.

Mental Illness: Mister Mxyzptlk has an irrational compulsion and attachments towards practical jokes and things of a prankish, immature nature. He rarely takes fighting seriously and normally spends his battles goofing off or playing games, uninterested in harming or killing his enemies.

History

The history of Mister Mxyzptlk is unknown before he introduces himself to Superman in his most known form, although it is suggested that he visited the universe before in other forms.

Origin

According to one story, young Mxy was drawn to Earth and encountered Young Justice, years after his adult self first visited Superman. This Mxy was a serious student who was disbelieving of Young Justice's claims that he would go on to be a prankster for Earth's greatest hero. He vowed to never become that person. Unfortunately, this changed history so that the Earth was destroyed, so the boys Robin, Superboy, and Impulse had to indoctrinate Mxy with "Three Stooges" videos, changing him from the serious student to the silly prankster. However, when Superboy encountered the adult Mxy after this adventure, he seemed to have no knowledge of their encounter.

Post-Crisis

Mxyzptlk first appeared on the Post-Crisis Earth in Metropolis posing as a dashing young man named Ben Deroy, who convinces Lois Lane to marry him. Superman quickly learns that he's really an imp from the 5th Dimension. The imp agrees to go home, undoing everything he has done magically, if Superman can get him to spell, type, or say his name backwards. He then proceeds to make up a name for himself on a giant typewriter, choosing "Mxyzptlk" as he figures it will be nearly impossible for Superman to accomplish. After putting up with Mxy's antics, Superman grabs the giant typewriter where Mxy left it and defiantly said that the imp could never type the name forwards. Mxy used his magic to type the same exact keys — but Superman had rewired the typewriter, so Mxy had to go home. After he was gone, some scientists theorized that he would not be able to return for 90 days.

On Mxy's next visit to Metropolis, he revealed that the "rules" to send him back would change each time. This time around, Superman had to get him to paint his face blue, which he eventually was able to do.

The next time Mxy stopped by, he found that Superman was missing. He decided to have some fun with Lex Luthor instead, but Luthor double-crosses the imp, teaching him what a lie is in the process.

Mxyzptlk later uses his new experience with lying the next time he visits Earth. He decided to force the Flash into an around the world race against Superman, promising to leave only if Superman wins. Flash won the race, and Mxy revealed that secretly that was the real condition for his leaving.

Although Mxy exclusively annoys Superman, it has been implied that he has traveled to other universes to continue his amusement. As such, Mxy decided he did not have the time to pester Superman, but wanted to give him a hard time anyway. He appears to Luthor, and gave him a lump of "red Kryptonite" which turns Superman into a human. Mxy said it will work so long as Luthor does not tell Superman. Superman enlisted the help of Starman to steal the rock from Luthor while posing as the Man of Steel. Mxy dropped by to tell Luthor that "Superman" was really Starman before popping back out. The rock was useless to Superman, however, and as Clark Kent he angrily confronts Lex Luthor. Luthor bragged that Mxy gave him the kryptonite, figuring that he can tell Clark and Clark can tell Superman without the "rules" being violated. Unfortunately for Luthor, this breaks the spell, and Superman was restored. Mxy showed up again in Luthor's office, angry that Luthor told. Luthor accused of Mxy of lying about the rules, thinking that Mxy must have "really" meant that if he told anyone the spell would fade. Superman interrupts them before they could piece together the truth, and Mxy gets Superman to punch him out so he can get back to the other dimension.

Superman ended up being just as blind to Luthor's secret as Luthor was to his. Mxy's next encounter puts "Lex Luthor II" into his old body and uses his lying ability to torment both Luthor and Superman. Superman managed to defeat him and send him home again.

Mxyzptlk's next encounter was a minor one, occurring when an enraged Superman became convinced that Mxy was responsible for a dead body in his image appearing his old tomb. Mxy turned up to confess that he was not responsible, but given how much turmoil Superman had been under, he wouldn't heap on any more.

On his next visit, Mxy tried being "nice" by granting people's wishes — although the results of the wishes are disastrous: a woman who wishes her dough would rise faster results in it flooding out into the street; several people's desire to have a river view apartment cause their building to stand up and walk over to the river; and many, many people all win the lottery all at once. Mxy was distraught when he finds that Lois has broken off her engagement with Clark. He tries to put them back together, resorting to everything he knows how, but they all fail. He told Superman that he never used his wish, so he can wish for Lois to get back together with him. Instead, Superman wishes Mxy would return home.

Mxyzptlk was therefore happy when Clark and Lois got back together. He showed up at the church in both his new, cutesy form and his classic form to wish Superman the best, promising a visit sooner or later.

Mxy's next visit was pretty harmless, however. He arrived during a funeral and having no real understanding of mortal death, thinks the whole thing is rather hilarious. Superman was not amused by Mxy's mocking the subject of death — so Mxy makes fun of Superman's new costume and powers instead. He then decided to learn about death and earn the admiration of the world by recreating Superman's battle with Doomsday only with himself fighting the creature. Unfortunately, the creature is a little too good, and it succeeds in actually killing Mxy. The imp ends up at the desk of the "supreme being," Mike Carlin, the editor for the Superman books at the time, who restores him to life in the comics.

Rebirth

Mxyzptlk was captured by a transdimensional booby trap created by Mister Oz, putting him in a negative space prison. Mister Oz commented that because fifth dimensional beings were immortal, it would be 2,000 Earth years before either Mxyzptlk's girlfriend or Bat-Mite realized he was gone. Mxyzptlk gloats to Oz that Superman will come looking for him; when he doesn't, Mxyzptlk suffers an emotional breakdown. In the depth of despair he says Kltpzyxm, and finds out that it can crack his prison. However, it is very painful for him to do so. He pushes through the pain and, after saying Kltpzyxm with multiple heads, escapes the prison.

However, Mxyzptlk finds that Mister Oz prepared for this possibility. To escape, Mxyzptlk turned himself into a physical and mental duplicate of Clark Kent. However, the inconsistencies of those who remembered Clark Kent caused him to confront Superman and his family. This encounter prompts him to remember who he truly is. Eager for revenge at being forgotten, he kidnaps Jon Kent, Superman and Lois' son. Mxyzptlk also reveals that both the New Earth and Prime Earth Supermen are actually two halves of the true, complete Superman, who was split into two separate people during the Flashpoint. The two Supermen save Jon and become a single, complete version of Superman, while Mxyzptlk escapes to another dimension, as his actions have brought the attention of an entity even he fears.

Fun Facts

Mister Mxyzptlk reveals that he can move from one alternate reality to another and that the name he uses has different spellings and pronunciations depending on the reality he is in: Mxyzptlk, Mxyztplk, Mixelplik. The pronunciation on New Earth was mix-yez-pittle-lik.

Mxy did not only plague Superman in the DC Universe, but it was hinted at that he was also the character Impossible Man from the Marvel Universe. This was a joke when he is shown in another universe having fun with his four "fantastic" new friends, and that it was "impossible" for him to always remember what he looked like from one universe to the next.

Mister Mxyzptlk is the name he adopts after he introduces himself to Superman and says that his real name would never translate into any Earth language.

Mister Mxyzptlk is sometimes simply known as Mxy.

Mister Mxyzptlk has an irrational compulsion and attachments towards practical jokes and things of a prankish, immature nature. He rarely takes fighting seriously and normally spends his battles goofing off, uninterested in harming or killing his enemies. It has been demonstrated that this is an aspect of Mxyzptlk's interaction with a three-dimensional reality such as the Earth-dimension. The more time he spends in the Earth dimension, the more prone he is to engage in puckish behavior.

#mister mxyzptlk #clark kent #ruppletat #mister mxyztplk #mixelplik #dc #DC comics #thedcdunce

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lovebunnie · 6 years ago

Note

Do all the asks coward

1. what does your wallet look like?

-i got it as a present from my uncle for christmas and its really expensive but also so ugly im sorry uncle tom. its like that ‘southern fashion’ bullshit that white MAGA moms wear. but it was better than my old wallet, which looks like this and i got when i was 12:

2. favorite color?

- baby pinnk

3. do you own a pride flag, or more than one?

-heres the thing: my parents basically know im not straight but i havent told them. my brother has thought i was a lesbian since freshman year, i have a small pride pin on my backpack, ive never been on a date, its complicated. but no, i dont have one. maybe one day, hopefully.

4. describe your favorite outfit

-black pants, platform doc martens, hoodie under a jean jacket, one clip on earring, and holding my crushes hand :]

5. when was the last time a girl made your heart flutter, and what’d she do?

-okay so theres this girl in my theatre class who is really cute, and she put her head on my shoulder and shes pagan so she drew a little sigil on my arm that means “safe and homely” so like :)))))))))))))

6. do you use nail polish?

-i do, i mostly do black tho

7. do you keep organized?

-absolutely. i have things online filed accordingly, i pick out my outfits the day before, my binders are neat, i learned how to army fold my shirts, i keep my shit CLEAN

8. ever take naps?

-only accidentally. ill be laying in bed watching youtube and next thing you know my autoplay has me watching a markiplier video even tho i dont like him and its 4 hours later

9. who was your first crush?

-idk if this is a real person or not so ill do both. my first fake person crush was either troy from high school musical or frankie stein from monster high. and my first real crush was on a boy named dominic in elementary school. i told him i liked him at the end of 5th grade because i thought i was switching schools but then i didnt and we never spoke again.

10. what are your crush tendencies? fall hard or often?

-both both both. i am the worst with crushes. i have crushes all the time because im romantic and a fucking fool. i have 3 crushes off the top of my head rn and i like them all for different reasons. thats not to say that i want to date them, but its that i like them a lot and i kinda wanna kiss their cheek or hold their hand idk

11. describe your ideal day

-play overwatch with my best friend (u gonble >:) ) then hang out with my cat, go get a smoothie, buy some cool shoes or something, take a shower and be asleep by 9 :,)

12. describe your ideal date

-i have stated that build a bear is an amazing first date and im NOT BACKING DOWN. ITS CUTE AS FUCK AND ILL ACCEPT NOTHING LESS!!

13. whats your favorite food?

-either sushi or strawberries :3c

14. who do you feel most comfortable around?

-my theatre class, people from camp, and gobble

15. what is your favorite compliment to receive?

-i dont have a favorite, any and all are going to make my face go red so i have to cover it and maybe make me cry

16. did you/do you like highschool?

-the first 3 years fucking sucked but senior year has been amazing so far. mostly because i just kinda stopped giving a fuck but its amazing

17. favorite animal?

-i think its cats now. i really like cats

18. do you like your name?

-eh, its okay. its pretty but also it seems like there are 60 million fucking people named grace and its so annoying. i wish it was something more unique idk

19. what kind of weather is your favorite?

-a light rain. no swinging trees or thunder, just lots of rain. its nice to stay inside and feel secure

20. do you believe in horoscopes?

-absolutely not. but theyre fun if you like them

21. tell us about your music taste

-its horrific. to sum it up, my two favorite musicians are the gorillaz and frank sinatra. take from that what you will

22. have you had your first kiss? if so, what was it like?

-i havent had my first kiss yet. gonna be honest, i felt like i was going to, a few times at camp and recently when classes ended. but yeah, nothing yet

23. did you have a favorite stuffed animal as a kid?

-i went thro cycles of favorites. but one ive had for years is a plush shadow the hedgehog from universal studios i got when i was 6. i used to carry him around, even to a pool once

24. what time do you usually wake up and go to bed?

-if you know me, you know i go to bed ridiculously early. i usually get tried at around 6pm and fall asleep between 7:45 and 8:30. and i always wake up before 6 am. i havent slept past 6 am continuously since the end of junior year. please help me

25. what dream trip would you take with your wife?

-maybe to go explore new york, just the two of us that sounds like fun :]

26. do you have any pets?

-i have 2 dogs and a cat. the family owns the dogs but that cat is mine

27. what pair of underwear is your favorite?

-uhhhhhhhhhhh i have some with rainbows that are cool? i dont have favorites, none of them are cute anyway

28. what makes you smile?

-funny jokes make me smile real hard, and if you compliment me at the right time, i kind of pull my legs up and hide my face? its cute and charming i promise

29. what makes you feel heavy?

-in both the physical and metaphorical sense, eating bread

30. what makes you feel better?

-watching bo burnham always makes me feel better, hes my go to whenever im really depressed

31. how do you show your love?

-i show my love in everything i do. everything i do is for love, i love love so much its sickening

32. when is it time to get a haircut?

-whenever u want to lol?

33. where would you live if you could live anywhere?

-maybe san francisco, its beautiful and i love the city

34. do your friends and family take good care of you?

-as much as i allow them to. sometimes i go days without communicating and i know thats annoying but my friends put up with it (they shouldnt have to, i know) and my family is okay. its cliche to say, but they honestly dont understand what im going thro alot of the times, esp with my anxiety and shit

35. have you always used the labels you use now?

-back in the beginning of highschool, i used they/them pronouns and identified as asexual/aromantic. eventually, it didnt feel right, so i know identify as cis and bisexual and that feels right to me

36. what makes you laugh?

-my friends, when people shit talk gobble and i in overwatch even tho???? we didnt know him?????? and the mcelroys always get me

37. who is your favorite fictional character?

-too many options, see list here

38. who do yo admire?

-my father when hes not threatening to throw my phone into a fucking lake and my friends for putting up with me

39. describe yourself in three words

-i am baby

40. how long does it take you to get ready in the morning?

-usually about 45 min, more or less as each day goes

41. what do you wish you could tell your younger self?

-listen: STOP GIVING A FUCK ABOUT OTHER PEOPLE. YOU WILL NEVER SEE THEM AGAIN, BE YOURSELF. STOP HIDING AND BEING SCARED OF YOURSELF, BE GENUINE!!!!

42. what would you do if you win the lottery?

-get my parents settled, see about other family members, and then distribute the money to charities accordingly, starting with flint and getting them water

43. would you call yourself a romantic?

-yes

44. what is your gayest childhood memory?

-my mom had cosmos magazines

45. do you have tattoos or want any?

-i dont have any tattoos but ive been obsessed with them since the 6th grade. id love to get tattoos, i just dont know what or where and also im afraid of pain

46. whats your worst habit?

-either biting my thumbs, starving myself, or ghosting my friends. prob ghosting my friends

47. what are you proud of?

-i guess coming out of my shell finally? idk, i actually have friends now and it feels amazing tbh. im in 5 group chats now. i havent been in a group chat since 6th grade. :))))))

48. did you know that youre actually a gift to the world, for real?

-hi i love you?

49. whats your favorite memory?

-there are so so many. but what comes to mind first is our dance night at camp where we all stood outside and i finally gave ian my tumblr and we all ran inside to dance to mr. brightside then ran outside again and we requested nightcore and rivers was fucking dancing their hearts out and we all sang along and im going to crying just typing this out

50. do you have a sweet tooth?

-i guess so. too much makes me feel like shit but i do really enjoy smarties

51. what do you like most about yourself?

-this is dumb, but my sense of style. since i got a job ive been wearing shit i actually like and its amazing. ill admit i have cool clothes

52. what makes you fall for a girl?

-besides acknowledging me, probably getting to know me and not like, putting me on a pedestal. idk its weird, ive met a lot of people this year who like to place me so high it feels like i cant make a mistake around them without disappointing them. idk, i want someone to call me out on my bullshit instead of assuring me im okay. i want to know what i do wrong so i can fix it

53. make a recommendation

-for what? uhh okay for music, listen to ‘clay pigeons’ by michael cera (yes i know michael cera) and for television, watch bojack horseman and for movies, watch the docuseries called ‘7 days out’ on netflix

54. have you ever had your heart broken?

-yeah, when i broke up with maddy because we werent ready to date. i cared and continue to care about her and i didnt want to hurt her but i knew its what we both needed. its what i needed, atleast. and i cant be a good girlfriend if i feel like im doing badly. but also ive had friends break my heart and family break my heart. but im okay now, this heart is ready to be broken again

55. when do you feel most yourself?

-def when i was at camp, that place is magical in the way it allows you to be yourself. but also when i talk to gobble because hes my best friend and when im at college, we can talk more and its gonna be dope as shit

56. name a gorgeous celeb

-jake gyllenhaal jake gyllenhaal jake gyllenhaal

57. what are some of your favorite songs this week?

-fake happy by paramore, im not okay (i promise) by my chemical romance, tomorrow comes today by gorillaz

58. tell us 2 or your biggest hopes and fears

-biggest hopes: i publish a book someday & i get a job doing something i love

-biggest fears: i end up homeless and broke & something horrific happens in college

59. what flavor chapstick/lipbalm is the best?

-raspberry i guess

60. are you okay?

-i answered a lot more honestly then i shouldve for some of these and i start new classes tomorrow so im feeling really anxious so im doing alright i guess.

gobble you test me but i do love you

#g0bbleb0ners #that took 90 minutes #also i got kinda real here.... :////////#whatever no one reads these things anyway

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spideymood · 6 years ago

Text

Choose, love - ch. 3

Prince, guard & maid AU

Pairings: royal!tom x maid!reader + guard!harrison x maid!reader

Synopsis: In a secret relationship with the royal guard Harrison Osterfield you face difficulties, like winning a lottery to become a princess and marry Crown Prince Thomas Holland.

Word count: 1.4k

Author’s note: Sorry for the lack of updates!!! I’ve been so busy and I’m so sorry! If you’re reading this, I’m probably on the plane to Singapore! So I won’t be able to post much for the next three weeks, sorry...Anyway, enjoy <3

Warnings: Maybe some curse words later in the series… and probably some typos

TEASER - CHAPTER 1 - CHAPTER 2 - CHAPTER 3 - CHAPTER 4 - CHAPTER 5

masterlist

series masterlist

»»————- ♔ ————-««

Visible. Public. Two unusual words for you. As a maid, your job was to be invisible. Clean up and make food. Work for the Royal Family.

Now, you would become a part of the Royal Family - against your will. You couldn’t do anything to stop it, or else it could seem like New England was weak. Maybe it strode against your own will, but you would do it for your country. You were loyal to New England.

You had lived in the palace for years, and knew things about the Hollands. You were even favoured by Queen Nicola, which made other servants jealous. It was hard work behind it all. Then, you met Harrison. The man of your dreams. However, fate had other plans for you.

»»————- ♔ ————-««

The air was cold in the hallways. It was still in the middle of the night. The guards escorted you through the halls, and you had an idea where they would take you. The Royal wing of the Palace.

You had been there before. Often, to be precise. But this time you wouldn’t be there as a maid, but a future member of the Hollands.

Deep breaths. Breathe in, breathe out. The Guard on your left opened a large wooden door decorated with rose paintings and symbols.

“Miss, this way,” his words gave you shivers down your neck. You stepped slowly into the room. There was no way back from your destiny now.

»»————- ♔ ————-««

Crown Prince Holland rushed down to the dungeons. The guard found it difficult to keep up with the prince. Thomas was frightened. He wondered what had gone wrong with the plan, and how Harrison got captured.

In minutes, the young prince arrived at the dungeons. Behind bars laid his best mate and royal guard. Harrison Osterfield looked tired, and Thomas noticed traces of tears on his face. He had never seen his friend in such a horrible state.

“Let him out.” Thomas Holland ordered. He couldn’t bear watching his friend behind bars.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness. I can’t let…-” “It’s an order!” Holland clenched his jaw as he ordered again. The guard nodded and did what he was ordered to do.

Thomas had to find an excuse to get his mate out of the dungeons. On his way down, he had figured out a plan. Hopefully, Harrison would act with him. “And tell me why my royal guard is locked up here.”

“Your Highness, he was found attempting to leave the palace without any permission.” The guard answered as he locked up the cell. “He has only asked for you since we placed him in this cell.”

“I see. Lord Osterfield did me a favour by helping me with my errands. I sent him on his way to New Kingston to help and search for...my future wife,” Thomas words broke Harrison’s heart. Ever since Harrison ended up in the cell, he constantly thought about you. “and I must have forgotten to send my permission to the entrance guards about Harrison’s mission.”

When the cell door opened, Harrison still sat on the ground. He was broken. Broken by the fact that he was helpless. And the fact that the love of his life would marry his best mate and future king. Harrison wished he could turn back time - to the day before the announcement. You could run away together before your fate changed through the lottery. If only he could turn back time.

»»————- ♔ ————-««

The day you met Harrison wasn’t quite romantic. Opposite actually. Two years ago, you stumbled into the blonde guard. You were delivering some food from the kitchen to some royal guests - and you were late. Fortunately, maids and servants had secret passageways to get to different wings in the palace.

You tried to balance the food in your hands as you were almost running. Making it even harder, the food your were holding was soup. Every time you served soup, there was a 50% chance of you either dropping it on yourself or on the floor. This time, however, it was a little bit different.

You were right about to take a turn to the right when you hit something hard. At first, you thought you had collided with a wall. The bowl of soup splattered on the carpet, and the bowl shattered in pieces. Then, the wall began to move. It wasn’t a wall, but a gorgeous blonde guard with shiny blue eyes.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry!” you immediately excused. Your worries moved to the guard than serving the soup. The guard you had spilt your soup on was Crown Prince Thomas royal guard, Harrison Osterfield. In addition, Harrison was also the Lord of New Kingston. You had messed up big time.

“Umm,” Harrison almost complained, but when he saw your face - he couldn’t. Your beauty struck him, and he was out of words. He had never seen you before since he would have remembered a gorgeous face like yours. Harrison struggled to find words to say. “No problem, Miss. I’m sorry for being in your way.”

You were confused. Did he try to be nice before reporting to get you fired? Then, you realized you had spilt the soup on the Guard and the floor. How could you serve soup now? You could either get fired for being late with the soup that you just had spilt, or fired for spilling the soup on the Royal Guard.

“Please don’t report me!” you begged the handsome man. “I really need this job! I’m so sorry!”

Harrison was flattered and didn’t know how to answer you. That’s when he realized you had spilt hot soup on him. Hot soup. “Oh shit! That’s hot!”

“Oh God, I’m so screwed.” you kept muttering to yourself as you tried to clean up all the soup on the guard and floor.

When things had cooled down, Harrison finally managed to speak properly. “Don’t worry, Miss. I won’t report you.”

His words made you relieved, and you wanted to hug him but knew to not push your luck. “Thank you.” You left him immediately in case he changed his mind.

Only one thing changed him, and that was the impact you had on him. After that day, you were almost always on Harrison’s mind.

»»————- ♔ ————-««

The sun had moved up from the horizon. The red scarlet colour filled the sky. It was almost eight o’clock. Three hours ago, you were found and sent up to this beautiful room.

The room was decorated with various shelves filled with books. From old to new books, even history books. In the middle of the grand room laid a queen-sized bed up to the wall. In front of you were gigantic windows which showed the magical royal garden.

“You must be Miss (your last name)!” An elderly lady called as she walked through the door. She was dressed in a beautiful flower patterned dress. “I am Sarah Cott, your teacher in royal etiquette.”

“Oh,” you answered a little bit off. Your face was filled with stains of your tears. You hadn’t gotten any sleep since you were found.

“Dear, a princess does not mumble but talks clearly. I know your former status as a maid, which is why I was assigned to teach you.” Sarah explained to you. “I helped Queen Nicola with her royal etiquettes at the time she was chosen by the lottery, and now it’s your turn.”

Queen. You would become the Queen of New England in the future. And marry Crown Prince Holland. The different emotions hit you. Marry a stranger? Become a part of the Royal Family?

“The wedding between you and Prince Thomas will be in around half a year. During that time, I will make you a real lady.” Sarah continued.

You had to do this. There was no way out of it. This was for your country.

“And of course, there will be some formal balls and meetings in the meantime. In addition also the reveal of New England’s new princess.” the lady ended.

Your heart began to beat rapidly. This was the part you dreaded the most. Publicity. How would you be able to talk to thousands of people? The thought of meeting other powerful leaders of nations made you almost faint. This would be hard.

“So, let’s start with how a royal sits…” Sarah started to explain as the lesson started.

Suddenly, someone knocked on the door. The person quickly opened the door, and the face of Crown Prince Thomas appeared. “Can I please talk with (your name)?”

Behind the prince stood no other than Harrison Osterfield.

»»————- ♔ ————-««

The next chapter will be out as soon as I finish it

Please reblog if you liked it! Feedback is happily appreciated <3

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OR ADD YOURSELF TO MY TAGLIST HERE!

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gotmattitude · 6 years ago

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team illegal magic

WHO: Elliot Gilbert (@ellnaturae), Santana Lopez (@trickstersantana) and Matt Rutherford.

WHAT: They’re supposed to make deals to check what happened to the bros at the Fun Hospital, but they get sidetracked. Illegality, feelings, and what flavor are those chips, Santana?

WHEN: September 20, 2018.

WHERE: Sciron #207

WARNINGS: Death, missing people, mind control.

Santana was waiting at her room with the door open, eating chips while lying in her bed, totally ready to make deals to check people being missing. "Hey guys"

Elliott arrives with Matt, they were chatting on the way, and he wondered how making a deal seemed so normal like they were just going to do whatever thing. Maybe it was because he never truly understood the implications of that spell, or because the most recent experience he had making a deal was negative, but he still didn't trust it much. However, he also knew that deals could do great, like they did for those poor creatures in Field Studies, how the deal helped find Kurt, and how now it could help them know about those who were missing. He politely waits for Matt to enter first and then enters himself, closing the door behind him "Well..." he awkwardly says looking at Santana eating ship "What flavour are those?"

Matt is nervous. The deals would tell them whether or not the frat guys were alive, but what would they do with that information? He sort of awkwardly steps forwards and backwards when Elliott lets him through first, and he hopes no one else notices. “Hey,” he greets, and wonders what flavor those chips are as well.

Santana goes from lying in the bed to be sitting in her bed. "C'mon guys, take a seat! They areeee" She looks at the bag. "Salty and super normal chips. Want some?" She offers, trying to be a thoughtful and Good friend. Man, she was so proud of her display of generosity, offering her almost empty bag of chips, taking the last full chip and leaving the left overs. "But really, what is this akwkardness guys? We are all friends here. We visited each others lot of times. What happened?" Apart from the missing people and the continuous deadly disasters they were always involved with. And Tina and Matt.

Elliott shakes his hand to reject the bag, he wasn't that into salty things "I was just curious, no thank you" he smiles trying to relax a little, now that Santana says it out loud, he actually notices Matt and him were looking pretty tense. He sits next to Santana and looks down at his high heeled leopard printed boots, because they are fab and also because he was trying to think about a good answer "What did not happen?" he chuckles messing his hair a little.

Matt reaches in and grabs a few crumbs from the bag, probably dropping about half in the process of sprinkling them in his mouth. Glancing at Santana and then at Elliott, he chuckles and tries to ease some of the tension on his shoulders. “Just your daily dose of Tumblr bullshit, and an awkward conversation about my unrequited feelings with Tina,” he says sitting on the other side of the bed and purposely ignoring the missing people they were here to deal with.

Santana shrugs "A lof of things. I didn't win the lottery, I hasn't been accused of any crime since..." She looks at her clock. But she has no clock in her wrist, so she just illusions one. "2 hours and 13 minutes. What about you?" She says and friendly punching him in the shoulder, a little too strong because she remembers he is indestructible, but then she regrets also remembering he is though and hard as steel. She tries to disimulate the hurt in her hand, badly, and shakes it. "Auch" She looks at Matt and crosses her legs to sit on them nd have more space for the rest. "Aw, my friend, how its it going? Did you guys talked again?"

Elliott tries not to laugh but does when Santana punches him and then shakes her hand "Yeah, same..." he jokes taking her hand softly and looking at her illusion clock "2 hours, 13 minutes and 20 seconds, 21...22..." he chuckles and then let her hand go. Then he hears Matt. He knew his friend had some unrequiered crush going on but he didn't know who the person was "WHAT" he can't stop himself from saying loudly "WAIT THE GIRL WAS TINA" he looks at Matt and then at Santana like saying with his eyes did you know this?

Matt laughs, wincing when Santana punches Elliott and it looks like it hurts. "Careful. You beat Tamamo's ass but Ell's arm is some tough shit," he jokes. Shrugging, he looks down at his fingernails. "I haven't heard from her in a while, I've s--" Aether, that's right, Elliott didn't know, and he's starkly reminded of that when his reaction makes him jump. "Holy shit, man. Yeah--yeah, it's Tina. I didn't--I know you two are friends and I didn't want to put you in a weird... place there. But it's her. It was her, I guess."

Santana raises her eyebrows at Elliott's reaction. She though he knew, Matt tell him on the museum. "Oh my, you didn't know. Who do you though it was?" She kisses her own hand like that would make it any better. "I wish I actually make that old granny eat dirt. But c'mon, survive a 3000 year old trickster bitch attack is pretty impressive per se, you don't have to exag...actually, nah, exagerate all you want, that makes me look even cooler. Specially tell that in front of my fake family, Hoodoo guy" She pokes Elliott nose. "What? You expected Nine Inches to go all Awwww without being subtle?" She jokes with a grin. "Sooooo...nothing after that 'oh'"

Elliott flexes his arm showing his muscle, because that was some tough shit (?). He realizes he was being exagerated with his reaction but he couldn't stop himself from being surprised "sorry, sorry, it's just that you never mentioned the name and I thought maybe the girl was someone I didn't know... it's not like i think any different of the situation anyway" he looks at Santana not understanding what she is saying, maybe like they have talked about something he missed, he then looks at Matt "honestly, now I understand better why you were even more nervous, but... are things with Tina not going well after that?" he worries.

Matt shrugs. "Eh, context. The point is, Ell's arm is--Look at that. Says more than any of my words," he says, signalling to Elliott when he flexes his arm. He laughs, and shakes his head, not quite looking at either of them directly. "No--it's, I don't know what I expected. I just didn't want to--I don't know. It felt like a fuckin' big secret at the time." A sigh leaves him, and he feels really stupid after it does. Aether, this is dramatic. "I haven't talked to her since. She--she told me she didn't want to hurt me, and I..." he thinks for a moment. "I think I also needed some time. I think hanging out with her right after... that wouldn't have helped much." Something strikes him, and he looks at Santana. "Wait, did I tell you about that 'oh'?"

Santana super nods in total understanment looking at Elliott's arms. "Hey hey, don't worry, I did the same when I was into Marley, keep it like a secret or something." She listen to Matt. Geez, it sounds like he prefers to not talk to Tina for a while, and she was recommending Tina to talk to him. Oops. "Would you prefer to talk to her or not talk to her?" She asks and squints a little. "Ha ha, oh sweet Matt. I'm a double angel and people tell me lots of stuff because I'm amazing at keeping secrets. If you guys knew half of the stuff I know..." She says just to add to her cool, full of info reputation.

Elliott is silently listening when he realizes another confession just happened "WHAT WAIT WHAT" he looks at Santana, but this time realizes his reaction was exagerated before anyone had to point it out "sorry... erm... what?" he tries to look the least surprised as possible, though ineffectively because he just screamed a second ago. He then pays attetion to Matt again, he was talking about how the situation with Tina was going "Well, if you think you need time, then I think that's the best, you need to take care of your heart for a while, that's understandable, but you can't avoid her forever... I know it will be tough, but the longer you wait to talk again, there is a possibility that it would be much harder if things become too awkward and distant, you know?" he tries to explain "You do care about Tina a lot, and I'm sure she does too, you guys can still have a wonderful friendship and it would be a shame if you guys lost that chance" he says then looks at Santana "You are right, I am surprised people tell you anything" he chuckles and softly pushes her jokingly. Thought he kind of curious to know if she actually knows a lot of things or if she is just bluffing.

Matt jumps again, but he tries to play it off by raising a fist. "To irrational secrets about girls," he says, and goes for a fist bump with Santana. Maybe they should both be more like Elliott, who seems to be pretty surprised at this development. Matt shrugs at Santana's question about Tina, taking a moment to think about it, and listen to Elliott, slowly nodding as he finishes his sentence. "I think I'm up for talking to her now. I just don't know how useful it would've been to pretend nothing happened before, you know? But you're right, I don't want to lose her because of it." Matt laughs, and holds back on asking what Tina had said about him. She deserves her privacy. "You are pretty good at keeping secrets." As he says that, he's reminded of something, and he turns to Elliott, looking super cool and not at all suspicious. "Hey, uh, totally random thought here... and you can shut me the fuck up if I'm overstepping but... shedim have magic that's considered 'illegal', right?"

"Oh my, you didn't know that either, don't you remember that party I started crying because Marley was kissing some slayer dude?" Santana says and start laughing. Oh, the things that happened. She listens to Elliott talking about romance and friendship and shit. "Yeah, you know it, Hoodoo guy, do whatever." She sticks her tongue to Elliott's comment about people telling her stuff. "It's the trickster magic aura, it has it perks. People think no one will believe me if I say it, soooo, they don't mind telling me a looooot of things." She says, proud. She almost fells out the bed with the soft push but she grabs Elliott to avoid a very humilliant fall. "To irrational secrets about girls!" She fist bump Matt. She know Tina was an expert of pretending nothing happened so she assumed everything would be alright. "Uuuu illegal talk." She says looking at Elliott. She still wanted to ask him about that black smoke thing he did when they stoled Kurt's potted plant thing. "I think I know what you mean, Matt."

Elliott looks at Santana and thinks about it for a moment, oh yeah, that happened, that fucking slayer dude, ugh, he starts thinking about his discussion with Marley and get's a little annoyed "I had no idea those two things had a connection, honestly..." he pats her shoulder grabbing her as she grabs him "Hey, I tell you things because you are my friend" he tries to assure her, that not everyone just dumped their shit on her just because, there were people who actually liked talking to her, like he did "I like when we talk about things, and we get into deep discussions" he smiles. He notices the bond between Santana and Matt, and it makes him smile as well, he didn't know that they were so close, but he was happy they were. He then looks at Matt "It's not about pretending, really, quite the opposite, it's about talking about it and move on together" he smiles to his friend trying to be comforting he touches his arm. Elliott doesn't know how to answer that question that suddenly is thrown his way, but these were Matt and Santana, so he didn't have a reason to hide it "Well, there are things I still can't do, most of my magic is forbidden... blocked... but... there are also things I shouldn't be doing" he tries to explain though it sounds pretty vague "I'm sure you guys may have noticed a new power I've been using lately... erm... I don't think it's pretty legal that I do that but... I'm doing it?" he shrugs with a sort of child like guilty expression on his face.

Matt realizes Santana apparently spends some time crying at parties. At the onsen, at that party where he didn't know it was actually her... When he'd kissed Tina. Hah. And when Marley kissed some dude, it seems like. Probably should keep an eye on her when she starts drinking. "Yeah, same here. I talk to you about shit because I want to. You're a good friend, y'know," he says, as he realizes he doesn't tell her this sort of thing as much as he does other people. "But--knowing shit about people has its perks." Puck would probably agree with that, he thinks bitterly. Looking at Elliott, he says it so simply but it makes so much sense, and Aether, it was probably not that hard. "You're right. It's fucking useless to just coast around and try to ignore shit." He laughs, feeling sort of stupid, but lighter inside his chest. He glances over to Santana when she says she knows what this is about; she probably does. His palms begin to sweat slightly as his heart rate speeds up, and he raises an eyebrow. "You thinking Japan?" Matt asks her. His attention drifts completely over to Elliott, and focuses on certain details. "Blocked. So if you tried it, you wouldn't be able to do it?" Raising a hand, he shakes his head. "Sorry, no, I didn't mean--whether it's legal or not is worth shit in my opinion. As long as you're not fucking people up. And I know you're not. I don't--I haven't seen you do it. You want to talk about it? I--" Matt turns away for a moment, nervous fingers scratching at his neck. "There's some things I can do too. That aren't. You know. Normal. Or legal."

Santana pretends to roll her eyes but smiles about it. "People who aren't my friends tell me things too. I'm just showing off of my endless pool of information, my friend. But I like it too." He listens to Elliott talking about his forbidden magic. "C'mon guys, you know what I think about legality. But yeah, Elliott, I can of saw. What it is exactly?" She asks super curious. She makes finger guns at Matt. "Yeah guys, I know, I know, I'm the best friend anyone could have, you guys are good at it too." She says non challant. "I'm thinking a lot of things, guys c'mon, I saw you both."She nods at Matt's opinion about legality. But she also aproved if you fuck people up in hypocrital situations. She makes a shiny illusion in her room, with neon letters and glitter. 'TIME TO SHOW THE ILLEGAL MAGIC'

Elliott can't avoid laughing, of course, he was in the room with the person who would support illegal magic most in the whole world. He looks at Santana's neon illusion impressed "Wait... you do?" he asks Matt after his new revelation "What's the thing you do?" he asks curiously "I... hmmm... how to explain it? Well, some of my powers are yet to be explored, if I'm honest with you, I don't know what's the extent of them, but I'm learning, I can do... I can do demonic magic if that explains anything" he tries to say "I'm researching books and languages, and... I think I could be able to do magic... just it's not the same as Witches magic... it is in demonic terms... it's complicated" he badly explains "But, what I can do for sure, and that's why I was talking about blocked, it's something I couldn't do before, it happened after the doors, I felt strange... no... stronger?" he says "and I could do this" he dissapears in a cloud of dark smoke and gets to his room, he gets a pen from his desks and appears again covered in the same smoke "I just went to my room and back" he gives the pen to Matt like some sort of proof that he did go somewhere "Obviously, I had to train to really know how to use it properly but... I can teleport now, apparently" he says as it is the most normal thing to discover.

Matt laughs at Santana's illusion, some of the tension ebbing away. Santana knows already, and she doesn't give two fucks about it. And Elliott will probably be alright with it too, if he's using illegal magic already. And, you know, he's a supportive friend. There's that, too. "It's--I call it shadow magic. It drains energy, or uh, I guess life force. Which is what makes it illegal." He listens to Elliott's explanation, only fidgeting a little bit. This is exciting shit. "No, that makes sense. I don't really get it, but I understand it would work differently than for witches. And why it would be restricted," he says, adding an eye roll. "If you're looking for books, I could probably help. There's a Rare Books section at work with a shitton of old, magic, powerful stuff." Matt nods when Ell mentions the door, and he feels his eyes widen when he pops out suddenly, and he looks at Santana for a moment, before he pops back. "Whoa," he says, jaw remaining slightly open as he takes the pen in his hand and looks it over like it's a rare object. "That's fucking badass, Ell." A smile finds it way onto his face, and sits up straighter. "Alright, my turn, I guess." He extends a hand, and taking a moment to focus on all the microscopic and hopefully bug life under Santana's bed, begins to cast. <<Drain>> he says, and his magic circle, blank and dark, appears around his wrist. The energy flows from under the bed onto his shadow, which swirls into a dark, warm mist and transitions into a cool, silky physical form. Matt holds up the pen with his thumb and index finger. <<Grasp and let go>> he casts, and the shadow delicately picks it up, and offers it to Santana.

Santana looks curious. "What kind of demonic magic?" She hopes it's necromancy. "Or it's like... a surprise?" She crosses her arms, thinking. "I got stronger after the doors too... I though it just multiplicated our power, but unblocking mmm...that's different." Elliott dissapears. And cames back. She smiles "Oh my Goooooood I can't believe you hided your cool powers for so long" She was surprised Elliott didn't just left NYADA already. But of course. This is Elliott. She looks at Matt doing his powers and takes the pen from Matt's shadow. "My my thank you. Man, I can't believe I don't have illegal magic per se. Now I'm jealous I can't show off my unexistent illegal powers."

Elliott smiles proud of showing his power and happy to see the reaction his friends have to see it "Well, it depends, there are spells related to summoning, or chanelling powers, there is also hexes, and there is also necromancy" he explains "I'm trying to investigate more about chanelling magic, demons helping demons, it would be nice... I'm not interested in any of the other magic if it is hurtful for others or implies using people..." he tries to explain though it probably sounds foreign for the other two. "I'm sorry I hided it, but I wanted to make sure I could handle it and learn how to use it, also... I can't just go showing it around, I don't know if... someone would try to... I don't know..." He doesn't want to think if there would be any type of consecuences of showing in public that type of power. He observes Matt's magic, and he can't believe what he is seeing when the shadow moves the pen around like just another person would "What... this is the coolest shit" Elliott's eyes are wide open and he shows a big smile. He chuckles at Santana's comment "Well, you kinda do illegal shit all the time anyway"

Matt tilts his head to the side, a gesture he'd picked up on from Sydney. "Channeling magic? What does that mean?" Channeling energy? Beings? Matter? He thinks he understands what Elliott means about using people; he'd been possessed by a trickster demon, after all, and he knows how Ell feels about control. "Yeah, of course. Use that magic for good. And pens," he jokes. Matt shrugs. "Don't be sorry. I know what you mean. Before, uh, you two, and Blaine, everyone who'd ever known about my magic treated it like some sort of really dangerous secret. They told me I would get locked up, questioned, never see the light of day again. So--yeah. You were trying to survive, you know?" A laugh shakes his chest at Elliott's reaction, and he knows he's made the right choice. "My shadow, at your service," he says, mockingly flourishing his hand and doing a little bow. "It's alright, Santana, you have honorary illegal powers."

Santana thinks positivelly about hexes and necromancy. "Oh, you want to summon other demons? Curious. I though being summoned was kind of annoying." She comments. She imagined it was like getting a call on the phone, but they just drag you to the place without any warning. Santana knew she tragically won't see necromancy or hexes done by Elliott, but well. "Don't worry, we all have our hidden ace in the sleve magic thing." Probably that expression makes no sense in english. She pats Elliott on the back. "Yeah, honestly, witches don't have to know shit if they are going to get like, you know." She looks at Matt. So, Blaine knew too. "Geez that's so dramatic. But I can understand the worry" Let's be real, witches did a lot of bullshit. "Aw, thank you guys! That's so sweet!" She said very happy of her illegal uses of magic. "Anyway, let's start getting in contact with the missing bros. What if we start with Go Home Club?" She said, illusioning the face of the guy and his full name, Gerome White. She already looked at all the missing people to memorize their faces and names. She showed her so Matt or Elliott could shake it. "I'll tell him we are looking for him and remind him ways of contact, if there is no call back in any way I guess we can ask that guy who found people if he had like, adn stuff. But we will know for sure they are alive somewhere."

Elliott shakes his head "No, no, it's not summoning, it's like asking for a favor, like... they lend me their powers for a moment" he explains, though he avoids explaining everything has a prize and that to cast any demonic magic you always have to do a sacrifice of blood, but he needed to figure that out yet, so it wasn't like he could explain much anyway. Elliott chuckles after Matt comment "and pens, of course" he repeats laughing and bowing to him too "Thank you, kind sir" he smiles to both of them as he puts a hand on Santana's shoulder "Well, I think we don't have to worry about that among us, we all can trust each other in that sense, our powers are secret with each other" he says confidently, sure that none of them would ever betray his trust because of The Power of Friendship. "Alrighy, yes, let's do this" he extends his hand for the first deal and shakes Santana's.

Matt nods slowly, impressed. "Neat," he says, as he wonders what sort of powers other demons have--he's only experienced fireballs, possession, and teleportation. There must be so much more out there. "Yeah," Matt says to Elliott, feeling more comfortable in his magic than he's--ever been, probably. "There's no worry of that kind here," he says, determined and sure. He's still laughing at Elliott's bow and Santana's reaction to them praising her illegality, when Santana brings up the reason they're here; the deals. The smile fades, and he clears his throat as she illusions one of the frat bros. This will tell them if he's dead or alive. He inadvertently holds his breath.

Santana raises her eyebrow. "So like, if I call my 'grandpa' over the phone and ask him to do a deal agaisnt ab enemy for me" She nodded in understanding. Yes, they could trust each other. In that sense. Elliott shakes her hand and... no fire appears. "Oh." She says. "Well. I can't contact him. That doesn't mean it's 100% sure he is dead" Just a 99%. "Let's try Corn on the Cob" She says, illusioning Corbin Myers face. Keep going instead of stopping to think about death.

Elliott raises and eyebrow confused, Santana seems to be chill about it, he wonders if she is right, maybe this particular person was harder to find he wants to think. "Okay, yes sure..." he says shaking her hand to find the next guy. The fire doesn't appear "What... hmmm maybe I'm doing it wrong?" he doesn't want to admit that there is a possiblity those two guys are dead "Matt, can you try next?" he asks his friend.

Matt furrows his eyebrows, stomach sinking each time the fire doesn't show up. "I think you're doing it right, Ell," he says, disappointed and sad. "But I'll try." He shakes Santana's hand, trying to find Tyler FuckusFarkus. But no fire appears. And they try Baran Clements. No fire. And as much as Santana says it doesn't mean they're gone with 100% certainty, Matt is pretty sure they are dead, and he really doesn't want to tell Finn.

Santana is not good at dealing with Death. She used to react to it like a normal person, but when you see so many fake deaths and people pretending to be death to then come back and ask you for money, it kind of lost it effects. It feel unreal, like a joke. But she knows it's real, and she doesn't know how to act like a sensible person. "Well, they... are probably... not alive. Like, it's not 100% sure." She doesn't know any way of cancelling a deal if you know the person. "Oh, fuck..." She lets silence go for a while. "Should we tell people? Like, I think they should know, but also I don't think they would believe me. I mean, I would also not believe it just because I didn't want it to be true"

Elliott is very quiet for a while. He thinks this is terrible, and he wonders if there is a nice way to tell that to anyone. "I... I don't know... it's not like we have proof but... we should try, or at least, tell our friends... I think they deserve to know..." he thinks about a particular one, how Finn would feel about this, that would be the hardest person to tell.

Matt sighs, rubbing his neck with one hand. "Telling the media wouldn't work. They already reported on it as a hoax. They won't believe us." But that wasn't even the difficult part. "But as much as they won't want to believe it, Ell's right, we should tell our friends," he says, shoulders dropping as sadness seeps in. "We should tell Finn, at the very least. Uncertainty sucks."

#para: all #para: trickstersantana #para: ellnaturae #trickstersantana: all #ellnaturae: all #para: 030 #para: team illegal magic

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