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paarthurnax59 · 1 year ago

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Little Sparrow: Chapter 5

Warnings: Not much, just some swearing.

Two days had passed after your late-night phone call with Sam. You were packing and preparing for your mission to find Van Helsing and take down Dracula. You and Jinette planned it all out, flight times, transportation, and inns where you would be able to stay in. You gathered every single weapon that might have a chance of killing Dracula or any other creature that will get in your way. Holy water, a silver stake, crucifix, your anti-heart detecting armor, night vision specs and a gun with silver bullets. Everything you needed was packed and ready to leave when you a knock on the door. Ceasing everything you were doing, you walked up to the door. You turned the knob and opening the mahogany door you see Carl.

“Carl!” You perked up and opened the door wider for him. “Come in!” You stepped out of the way, and he entered your spacious bedroom.

“Hello, (Name)! Cardinal Jinette told you would be leaving today.” He observed as he saw all the bags that you had in your room.

“Yes, I’m leaving today. I only have three weeks to hunt down Dracula and find Van Helsing. I’m almost ready and will head out before sundown.” You confirmed as held out your plane ticket and passport, being ready to leave for Transylvania. He looked around the room and saw an unfamiliar silver case that laid next to your bag, the case that contained the Holy Spear.

“Can I ask what this is, (Name)?” He said as walked over to your bed, making your heart rate increase rapidly. No one other than you and Jinette knew what was in that case, let alone what you plan on doing with it, not even Carl. You promised to keep it a secret from others, and you intend on doing so.

“That’s top secret, Carl. It’s between me and Jinette.” You jumped at him and placed a firm hand on the case. Carl, being understanding person that he was, stepped back and nodded.

“Very well, (Name). I won’t push it any further.” He agreed as another knock on the door was heard. You smile as you saw a few other friendly faces come at your door. Five of them to be precise. Two of them being the Tibetan monks that you had seen in Jinette’s office a few days prior, Norbu and Tenzin. Bowing as they enter, you return the bow. Few other also included Spanish, middle-aged nun, sister Maria Montello in her head wrap on her vale from, who was wearing her rosery on her neck. The fourth was an Ashkenazi Jewish rabbi, whom you know as Nicolaus Goldstein. He walked up to you and gave you a hug. What you didn’t know was that he gave Carl a death glare. Carl gulped in nervousness and looked away with from the angry Jewish man. Last but certainly not least, Imam Nasir Assad, a Muslim elder that you had grown so very fond of since you came to Vatican City. He helps invent and craft armor for the Order.

“It’s so good to see everyone again! I missed you all!” You said with a warm happy smile, seeing the friendly faces that you had known for ten years. “I hope everything is good for you guys.”

“Better now that you are back. We are very happy you have returned home, Rosa.” Said the kindhearted nun. When you were younger, you would help Sister Maria plant flowers in some of the Garden. Having difficulty adjusting to life in the Vatican, you found solace in helping create something beautiful. You would talk to her about your past and tragic experience of losing your family and being homeless. Sister Maria would often say you were like a rose, though beautiful and soft, can have many sharp thorns. Which is why she gave you the nickname Rosa. She was like a sister to you growing up.

“Well, I’m not staying for long. I must leave as soon as possible. I have already packed everything and about to head to the airport soon.” You tiredly converse with your older peers as you looked at your things that lied on you bed.

“That’s a real shame, (Name).” Said Tenzin looking at you with sad eyes. “It felt like you just got here and now you had to leave again for some time.”

“I know, but I have too. I don’t have much time for seeing all of you.”

“We know, but we understand. Van Helsing is important to all of us and we would rather have him back.” Rabbi Goldstein patted you on the back, speaking in his Yiddish accent.

“If I can get him back.” You said quietly, sadness laced in your voice. Everyone looked at you, their mood now sours a little from your lack of confidence. Nasir took a step forward with a deep sigh and place a hand on your shoulder. You looked up at him and saw he was brandishing an encouraging smile.

“You will find him. I know it. Have faith, (Name). He is much stronger than you think and so are you.” He reassured you as his hand disappeared from your shoulder. A sense of warmth had spread through your body after Nasir talking. He always had a gift for uplifting people’s mood and build up their conviction.

“Thank you, Nasir. And I will be back with him as soon as-”

“WHY WOULD YOU GIVE THAT MISSION TO HER?!” Your sentence was halted by thunderous yelling coming from outside of your room and began to follow where the commotion was coming from. Peeking out of the hall, you see Jinette there, along with an all too familiar man, staring down at him with a burning glare.

Father Giovanni Capuano, the second in command of the Order. AKA, one of the worst human beings you had ever met. Alongside him, was Jude Abernathy, one of the hunters of the order. He was Capuano’s protégé and another person you hated with a passion. Few other hunters stood beside Jude, glaring at your guardian with daggers in their eyes.

“I have my reasons for having (Name) go to fight Dracula, Father. As the head of the Order, I have strong faith in (Name) for the task that is assigned to her. I trust you do the same.” Jinette stood firmly and held his ground against the mob. He showed no fear as he stared down at each of them.

“Faith, ha! That girl had been nothing but trouble since she had come here as a child! She is a spoiled, little street rat with complete disregard for others and their lives! For all you know, she could get anyone she is involved with killed!” Capuano shouted now getting in Cardinal Jinette’s face. Your blood boiled as you ran toward them.

“If anyone of us have done what she did, we would have been expelled! She should get the same treatment.” Shouted Jude as he stepped in front of Jinette, towering over him with his tall frame. He glared down at him with his piecing blue eyes, trying all he can to intimidate Jinette.

“No! (Name), stop!” Cried Imam Nasir tried to pull you back but failed as you speed toward the crowded area where they were publicly harassing your adopted father.

“Hey! What’s going on here!” You shouted and soon enough, everyone’s eyes, attention…and ire… were on you.

“Well, if it isn’t the little princess, coming to the rescue!” Mocked a black woman who wore armor as she stood next to Jude. All the hunters had their turns giving you hate filled stares. Carl and the rest of your friends followed you out to the hallway, watching you stand up to your fellow hunters.

“Shove it, Nadia! How dare you gang up on Cardinal Jinette! Is this how you show respect to a man like him?! You have no right to tell him on how to run this organization.” You barked at the woman with as much courage as you could in front of the disgruntled crowd. Father Capuano looked at you with a smirk as he stood away from Jinette and to you.

“Respect, child? With the track record you have, you have no right to lecture to anyone about respect!” Father Capuano was so close to your face that you could smell the garlic on his breath. He ate too much of the stuff and it nauseated you. “If it were up to me, you would have been banished from this Order. It is foolish for him to have summoned you back. You should have stayed in America doing God knows what in that place.”

“Doing more than you ever did for the Order.” You snapped back at the priest. Capuano’s grin formed into a frown. You knew from the grape vine that Capuano hadn’t never been one to be at the for front of battle. When he had a crowd that surrounded him, sure he will stare you down. But when having to fighting for himself…he backs down like a dog with his tail between his legs. He paused in his speech and then that same malicious grin reared its ugly head once more.

“Do tell us what have you done, hmm? How about you tell us all about your time outside the Vatican.” He mocked you as you gritted your teeth. The other hunters snickered at you.

“Mind your own business, old man.” You growled as your clench your fists, wanting very much to punch this man. You had wanted to do that since the day you met with Jinette. The temptation just grew with each passing year.

“It is my business when you are part of the Order, girl! I am of a higher rank than you and you will respect that!” The elderly Italian man barked at you as the crowd, which now felt like an angry mob, shouted their own distain for you.

“You shouldn’t be going on this mission! You just end up getting someone killed again!” Shouted Jude as he prowled over to you and stood next to Father Capuano, who was smirking down at you. “Father Capuano is right; you should be kicked out!”

“ENOUGH!” Shouted Jinette and everyone ceased their idle disagreements as they all turned to the leader of the order ounce more. All were amazed at how loud the old man was able to silence the entire hallway, including you and your companions. “I will hear no more of this! You are all acting like children! (Name) will go to Transylvania, find Van Helsing and kill Dracula! That is final!” with his conclusive declaration, he stormed off into the direction of his office. You observed with concern and were about to run after him when someone grabbed your arm and turned to find it was Father Capuano, pulling you to him. His lips were to your ear and whispered lowly so that only you could hear him.

“You are very lucky that Jinette favors you so much. For if it weren’t for him, you would be rotting in a cell after you had tried to steal from him when you were a thieving, little brat.” He snarled as he gripped onto your arm a little tighter. You try not to budge at his iron hold on you. Not letting the man see you expressing any amount of discomfort. “Let me make this clear, girl. You have brought great shame to this Order. So much so you would have been exiled and never to return. And I am not the only one.” He said making you look to the other hunters. The lot of them looked at you with distain. Once a upon a time, you would consider these people your brothers and sisters. They were your family. But due to past transgressions, you had lost any trust and respect from them. They treated you like a pariah sense you had returned to Vatican City. Even when they would interact with you, they would glare at you with daggers in their eyes. “Yes, your fellow hunters despise you. You are not wanted here.” He whispered maliciously. Not wanting to hear anymore, you slip out of the old man’s grasp and huffed in anger as you turn to him.

“Like I need any of that. I’m only here to help find Van Helsing and kill Dracula. That’s it.” You attempt to say with great confidence, which you found yourself failing before the old priest.

“Oh, and how to do you plan on doing that? Using a silver stake or a crucifix?” He chuckled with his arms folded, looking down on you with cruel amusement. “You have heard the legends, no one has been able to kill Dracula for centuries. This is not some regular vampire we are talking about. This is a monster that has lived for hundreds of years, whose strength and ferocity can rival that of the devil himself. He is in a league of his own. What chance do you have with this creature? What sort of weapon would you, of all people, possess to take out such a beast?” He snickered as he watched for any sign of fear or hesitation in your demeanor. In the end he found none. Instead, you stood straight and smirked as you folded your arms. A smirk appeared on your face.

“That information is between me and Father Jinette. You heard him, it has been settled, Father Capuano.” You stated confidently, as Capuano lowered his arms down as a frown appeared on his face. “Now, if you will excuse me, I need to go talk to him about the final preparations for my departure. Have a good day, Father.” You start to walk away from before you heard his grating voice one more time before you disappear from the hallway.

“Well, I’m sure Van Helsing will be so ecstatic to see you. Do tell him I said hello and hope he’s well…that is if he will speak to you.” He chuckled from behind you shortly before you heard heavy footsteps of his Italian leather boots sauntered down the halls and a few other footsteps followed him, knowing full well it was the other hunters taking their leave. Turning around, you noticed that Carl was standing a few feet away from you, with an appearance of sympathy after having to face an army of hunters.

“(Name), are you okay?” Carl stepped up to your and rubbed your arm to keep you from getting riled up.

“Yeah, yeah. I will be okay.” You lied through your teeth for Carl to stop fretting over you so much. In truth, you were pissed. Pissed at the fact that Capuano had throwing so much disrespect to Jinette and for shoving your own past failures into your face. Most of all, you were fuming at the fact that you let the stupid, old coot for getting under your skin. You told yourself that you would never let that happen when you came back to Vatican City. Not to mention the mass crowd of your former friends. People that were the closest thing that you had to siblings. You had tried so hard to keep this kind of situation from happing again.

“Look, (Name), if you need to talk about-” Carl started with a soft voice, but you interrupted him.

“No, I’m sorry Carl, but I can’t talk about it. I need to get to Jinette and make the final plans for my mission. I will talk to you later, okay?” You turned away from him as you finally let the tears flow down your cheeks.

…

At last, you reached the familiar mahogany double doors of your godfather’s office. The guards stood by as they took a single glance at you before you knocked on the door.

“Father Jinette? It’s (Name). Are you in there?” You requested softly but still with a voice loud enough for him to hear.

“He said you can enter. But only you, miss.” Said one of the guards before he reached out to open the door for you.

“Thank you.” You acknowledged the man as you went in to see your guardian sitting at his desk, rubbing his head with his hands. Jinette looked tired and worn out. He was taking deep breaths and heavily sighed. Also, you could have sworn you saw him shaking a little. You can tell that he wasn’t well now. “Father Jinette…are you okay?” You asked taking steps closer to his desk.

“I’ll be alright, Paressa. Just having much to deal with lately.” He sounded drained assured you, or at least attempting to. Yet, you were not buying it for one second.

You told Carl that you wanted to talk to Jinette about making last minute preparations for your search for Dracula and Van Helsing. Which was true and you were leaving today. However, with the way that the poor old man had been dog piled just ten minutes ago, you were worried. Concerned that the excitement had been a bit much for him. He may have been a great warrior back in his day, but now? He was now a much older and frail version of his former self.

Never would you say it to him in person, but you can see it in his eyes. Jinette seemed like a very different person when you last saw him eight years ago. He was tired and the stress that he was being put under was not doing him any good. You can’t help but blame yourself for it. You simply being here had stirred enough controversy. Now that you were not only rescueung one of the best hunters in the Order, but also kill one of the most infamous monsters in history. All this cannot be good on your godfather’s health. He had enough to deal with as it is. You only wanted to check in on him and hopefully get the last of your preparations in order. Time was running out with each passing minute you spent not looking for Van Helsing. No matter what was going on in your life or what you had done, you needed to move forward.

“I know, you shouldn’t have been yelled at like that. You didn’t deserve it.” You knelt next to him, watching him while he tried to calm his emotions.

“Thank you, (Name). Once more, thank you for standing in. I know with everything that has gone on with you, that wasn’t easy for you.” Jinette gently grabbed your chin with his rough, aged hand. You smiled up at him while you grabbed his hand. You gave it a gentle kiss with as much affection. Jinette smiled back only for a second but his smiled formed to a frown. He noticed some redness in your eyes and nose. The tears that had not shed down your face because you too were trying to hold in your distress. “Paressa, is there something that you need to talk about with me?” He questioned you, making you blink at his inquire.

“What do you mean?” Your reply short and trying not to get into the drama you both had witnessed.

“Well, unless my eyes have gotten worse, I could have sworn I saw some remanence of you crying before you came to my office.” Jinette answered, making your breath hitch. You cursed yourself for him noticing your tears. “And If I am correct, I do believe I know the culprit of these tears.” He asked you again as a single tear came down your face. He whipped it away before you even realized it.

“Father…”

“What did Giovanni say to you?” He was quick to probe you, knowing full well who made you cry. Jinette knew about your bitter history with Father Capuano. When you met him, it was at the time that you were caught stealing food from Jinette in Paris. Unlike your godfather and some others, Giovanni never warmed up to you, and vice versa. He felt as though that you were the scum under his boot. Just waiting for an opportunity for you to mess up and made you feel like you had caused Mount Vesuvius to erupt while at the same time drop an atom bomb in the heart of Rome. Jinette, and the rest of your friends, often enough had to come in and save you from his harsh criticism. He hated you and you hated him. You thought for a moment of what to say to Jinette, not wanting to cause any more drama.

“He thinks I can’t do this. That I can’t take down Dracula and save Van Helsing. That everyone here aside from you and few others that I don’t belong here.” You answered as honestly as possible without mentioning the fact he said you belonged in a cell. Giovanni was the one person that made you feel insufficient. The man knew the right buttons to push when it came to your insecurities. He just had to pick a weak spot.

“Paressa…”

“Are you sure you want me to go, Jinette? There are other hunters in this order that can go and rescue Van Helsing. So many of them far more experienced than I am. They can find a way to take down Dracula far better than I could, and faster! I just don’t want anything to happen to Van Helsing! I still care too much about him to be risking his possible safe return…Even if I am the last person he wants to see.” He was taken aback by your admission, but he also understood. You and Van Helsing were not on good terms when you left. In fact, they were far from it when you went to the states. Which really saddened the old man considering how close you were to him. Despite your struggles, you were always a self-assured girl who never really cared for the opinions of others. Yet, when it came to Van Helsing, it was a very different story. When things fell apart between you, that was when you left the Order. You didn’t care about the others or their opinion of you, unless it affected others like Jinette or your friends. He rose, taking you with him, and embraced you in a warm, comforting hug.

“(Name), there is no other person that I want to go on this hunt. I know your relationship with Gabriel is stained and broken.” He stroked your back when he spoke. “But it is still salvageable.” Jinette admitted as he let you. His confession made you turn to him with some, while a few te

“How can you be so sure? I mean the last time we spoke he said…”

“I don’t care what he said, considering that his actions spoke louder than words.” He cut you off before you said anything else.

“What do you mean?” You asked as your twisted in confusion.

“He never expressed this to me or anyone else for that matter, but I have noticed something.” He started as he walked away from you and to his large grand window that let him look out Vatican City. Some parts of the ancient city that laid beyond it. “You know when someone has lost something, a sense of longing follows them like a shadow? You can almost instantly notice a change in them right away. They way they speak and the way they move. A missing piece that is stripped from them and replaced by an emptiness that will never be gone unless that void is filled.” He didn’t turn to you as he talked, just stared out into the window as he let his mind wander. “That… my dear Paressa…is what I had seen when I look at Van Helsing, ever since you left.”

“Really?” You perked up when you heard him open about what had transpired with Van Helsing after leaving the Order. In truth, not a day went by you didn’t think of Gabriel Van Helsing. Even when you were traveling with the Winchesters and dating Dean, you still thought about him. You missed more than words can never express. Asking yourself as you lay down in your bed at night, even as you laid down with Dean. What was he doing? Who was he hunting with? What was he hunting? Was he alive and safe?

You never told Dean about Van Helsing. Sure, you had shared some details about him with the boys, but you never really got into the bond you had. A part of you wanted to keep Van Helsing to yourself. Like he was your own deep dark secret that you wanted to keep hidden from the world. Including Dean. You felt like you were betraying him by thinking about Van Helsing while you went out on dates, hunting and even when you made love together. You loved Dean, hell, you still do. Despite what he had said and done to you. But you can’t escape this feeling you get when you think back on your times with Van Helsing. Like there is a piece of you that will always belong to him. A piece that Dean could never have. Even now with Dean having the Mark, how it’s affecting him, your mind is still fixed on Van Helsing.

“I do believe…through going on this hunt…you will find what you lost. After that, whatever challenges you face, will become easier when you face them. No matter what.” He slowly faced you, his words making your eyes blink at him. You don’t know whether he’s being overly optimistic, or he had maybe gone a little senile. Nevertheless, you will take his word for it for now. Jinette has never steered you wrong before. You took a deep breath and tossed aside the hurtful encounter you had with Giovanni with it. Your head hung for a second and looked up back at Jinette, a sad smile surfaced on your face.

“Okay, I’ll try.”

“Good and as for Giovanni…to Hell with him.” He smirked making you gasp.

“Father Jinette! You swore in the Lord’s house!” You laughed as you covered your mouth in shock. The old man chuckled at how amused you were at your very first time at hearing him swear.

“I believe He would agree with when it comes Giovanni.” He chortled while he pointed upward as an amused grin on his face. You never thought Jinette had gotten so bold in the time you were away. “So…I know I have you leaving today at noon.” He clarified as his laughter died out in him. You nodded, wondering where this was going with this. “However, I have been thinking about something. I feel that it would be unfair for me to make you go alone.” He continued, causing your head to tilt in confusion.

“Jinette are you…?”

“No, I am not going with you. Believe me, I would if I could, Paressa.” He answered and feeling of disappointment creeped up in you. At times, you wanted to see what the man was like as a hunter. To see a legend like Jinette in action. But that was when he was a younger man. He was older now, old, and tired. He didn’t have the strength to hunt like you or any other hunter.

“Then who is going with me?” As you asked him, you heard quickening footsteps come into the room.

“Father Jinette! You need me for something?! I was in the middle of a new experiment!” Shouted Carl after he came into the room.

“Ah, Carl! Right on time!” Jinette with a smirk when he approached the unsuspecting priest now standing unsuspectingly in the middle of the room.

“Yes… one of your guards came and insisted that I needed to see you, immediately. What is the emergency!?” He said as he looked all frantic and shaky. Apparently, whatever Jinette to get him here, must be important.

“Well, you see, Carl. Our dear (Name) will be leaving us for Romania.” He placed a hand on Carl’s shoulder and then pulled out what looked like an envelope. Carl looked at both you and Jinette back and forth before muttering an ‘okay’ before he opened it. His hand reached inside and pulled out what looked like two plane tickets, plane tickets.

“Your grace, what is this?” He said looking nervous at his superior.

“What do you think they are, my boy?” He answered with his hands behind his back, pretending to look as innocent as possible.

“Well, they look like two plane tickets to Romania. Is someone going with her?” He asked, his tone and facial expression getting both seeming to be more on edge.

“Yes, someone is going with her.” Jinette hand tightened on Carl’s shoulder. He raised his eyebrow with a no so innocent smile. “You are.” Carl was speechless for a second before answering the head of the Order. His mouth dropped before he looked back and forth to the two of you. You are also surprised by what Jinette had said.

“I beg your pardon, your grace, but I am not really a field man.” He said as he stepped away from two of his closest friends, his voice shaking with a nervous smile plastered on his face.

“I know. You are not a hunter, but your knowledge of monsters and dark creatures will help serve our dear (Name) on her mission. Also, I understand that you have new equipment that you are looking to test it out. I can’t think of a greater opportunity for you to show case your talents.” He encouraged which you were not sure it was working as well as you hoped. As far as you knew, Carl had never been out hunting before. So having him go hunt with you would defiantly be a bit nerve wrecking for him.

“But I don’t have anything packed! And she’s leaving in two hours!” he whined at he pointed at you.

“Not to worry. I had some provisions packed for you.” As Jinette stated, one of Jinette’s large bodyguards in nearly all black came in with two large suitcases. Carl jumped as the huge, burly beast of a man throw his suitcases onto the floor. You looked over the luggage and noticed that it was a lot of the equipment from the lab, and one was Carl’s own suitcase. “Thank you, Victor. I trust you packed everything?”

“Yes, your Grace. Everything that is needed on this packed away.” Responded the large man with a Russian accent. Carl had his mouth wide open with a shocked expression on his face as the two other men converse like he wasn’t even there.

“Very well, you may take your leave now, Victor.” The man bowed and walked out without sparing a glance at either you or Carl. “Now, you were saying, Carl? A car is now waiting for you both to take you the airport. I suggest you both be on your way. Good luck and may God be with you on your mission.” He taunted the poor priest with a smirk and finally walked out

“But…Your grace! I don’t want to go to Transylvania!!!” Carl whined trying to get his attention and come back.

“Carl, give it a rest. You know once he made up his mind, there is no changing it.” You sighed with an eye roll, though you can’t help but feel bad for him. Unlike you, Carl wasn’t a warrior or a hunter. Brilliant and inventive, but not a fighter. Placing a hand on his shoulder, Carl looks at you with concern in his eyes. “Don’t worry, Carl. I will make sure that nothing happens to you. I swear it.”

“I’ll keep you to that. I don’t need to become vampire food.” He whines again without looking at you and you smirked in amusement.

“Come on, lets go get Van Helsing and kill Dracula.” You say before you walked out of the Office. Thoughts swam in your head as you walked out to the large grand building and to the car that is waiting for you. With Jinette’s encouraging words now planted in your mind, you have stringer hope and determination to succeed on this hunt. A small smile grew on your face as you walked down the halls with Carl trailing behind you.

“Hang on, Gabriel, I’m coming.”

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quillkiller · 8 months ago

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I have just seen this and maybe you have talked about it before but Effie x Walburga

I’m like shaken because I can’t imagine James mom ever wanting to be with someone probably cruel from birth. I mean they would have been together in the fifties, idk it made em giggle

would you all still love me if i said i was a walburga defender… :(

ok ive been pondering this all day, and ive also spent an insane amount of time on public transport trying to find a post i made in defence of walburga. @sugarsnappeases pulled up her laptop as my own personal hacker and stalker and couldnt find it either. however i found a snippet of an ’what are ur unpopular opinions’ ask and found this:

and that’s the gist of it. if anyone remembers the post i made or know how to find it pleaseeeeee send it to me. me and kara went through hell and back to try and find it :(((((((

anyway!

1. i hate the concept of people being born ’cruel’ or ’evil’. people are people and sometimes people do bad things. i think its important to still acknowledge that abusive people aren’t monsters who just couldn’t help themselves. abusers are people and those people chose to treat you like that. that was a choice they didn’t have to make, but they did. abusers aren’t monsters or monstrous. it’s important to me, due to personal experience, to remember that abuse is a choice. it allows me to feel betrayed and hurt and angry that a person chose to do that to me

2. i think walburga was a victim her whole childhood. atleast my own depiction of her. it’s different when she becomes an adult, has children, etc, and she should know better. there’s no excuse for her abuse towards her children/no excuse ever for abusive parents. and i want to be very clear about how there are NO excuses !!!!!! i am not team walburga and will never ever be team walburga !!!!!

3. walburga was a woman in the 70s, she held no power over orion what so ever. he was the man in the house. the head of the family. the abuse was allowed because quietly sat back and allowed it. absolutely ridiculous to me that walburga would be worse than orion. i simply think its an ignorant and misogynistic take. a silent father will always scare me more than the active abusive mother. like.. the patriarchy in the 70s in pure blood families ? lets be real here

ive seen posts saying orion was scared of walburga and thats why he never did anything. like are we being serious here. no way she got to choose her husband. and he’s a powerful man from a powerful family. in the seventies. why woud he be scared of her she has absolutely no power what so ever

4. i love exploring the womens narrative in the marauders fandom because their canonical narrative is based on sexism and the nuclear family. i guess you think it’s outlandish that effie would fall for walburga (cruel from birth) because shes james’ mother, and the anti walburga in the way she opens up her home and basically adopts sirius and makes a home for him ? to me that’s not interesting sadly :/ i love effiebarty because i get to explore good housewife effie tearing down her walls and acting on her desires and urges. like…. i want her to leave both james and monty behind out of pure selfishness. like.. im the girl writing the baby killing fic where lily is the sole survivor….

5. to me walburga is sort of similar to alicent from house of the dragon. what did she ever do that wasn’t expected of her? she was a girl in the 60/50s in a powerful family and had less choices than either reg or sirius ever did. she didn’t leave like sirius did. she stayed like regulus. and for similar reasons reg stayed probably. and she’s a woman. her sons are more priveliged than she will ever ever be. even disowned sirius is more priveliged than her.

6. i want to be very clear again. i am not a walburga apologist. i think there’s a clear distinction between her child- and adulthood. at some point the abuse becomes a choice. she didn’t break the cycle and she’s bad and rotten woman who abused her children. no excuses !!!!!!!!!! however. it is interesting exploring the circumstances which led to the woman she is

7. to actually answer your question. i dont necessarily care for effie/walburga but i can see the appeal. maybe i’ll get into it we’ll see……. like honestly they wouldn’t be that different from jegulus?

#walburga black #sorry that you came to the defender of problematic women for giggles and all she did was defend problematic women :(

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imperatorrrrr · 1 month ago

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ahem! I'm here officially about "Luke Hughes, Personal Assistant" bc the JOY of this fic has turned my rainy Sunday into a--well, it's still rainy right now, but now I have this fic locked and loaded in my brain at all times 🖤

If there was anybody in the world who deserves/needs a personal assistant, it WOULD in fact be Captain Nico Hischier of the NJ Devils. And I looooooove how committed to the bit Luke is you can't tell me he isn't getting assistant of the year award. NHL awards rejigging their whole system to include this one and L.Hughes is sweeping the category.

Some of my fave parts:

Nico does his best to pay attention to the road ahead, but ends up looking adorably confused at Luke. / he’s basically useless until he hits the ice for morning skate. ← grumpy anti-morning nico my beloved ahhhhh he needs a travel buddy he needs his coffee he uses eyebrows to morse code his way thru pre-pre-morning skate communication. I hear you and see you Morning Nico.

Nico has somehow moved Luke’s stall to temporarily be next to his ← just imagining Nico earnestly asking whoever is normally next to him to trade LOL and everyone around him going "of course captain beautiful eyes anything you want" bc he's Earnest. So Earnest. and also committed to the bit this is so funny.

Nico the travel sleeping machine. Do you think he might be one of those babies that parents would put in the backseat of the car and drive around until they fall asleep from the rocking motion? Is that why he passes out the second the Public Transportation Machine starts moving?

patented European Noises™️ ← so far I have eeearghh and mmmmmmumuhmhumum on that list. love the trademark symbol.

ALSO the entire suit section was just me 🤝 Jack over the plum suit. PERFECT CHOICE. Jack having an opinion on everything Nico is so perfect. EVEN HIS KNEES and tiny waist. Luke and the art of filtering Jack's rambling out. Even more perfect.

Assistant to the Personal Assistant of the Captain of the New Jersey Devils ← nemoooooooo being so helpful!! being an assistant is hard work so of course Luke could use a hand!!! however the allegations of the assistant to the personal assistant being the personal assistant's bf....the possibilities....dare I say it. nepotism. nemo-tism, if you will.

So maybe it's a mouthful, but so is Nemo. ← HNFSFMSNFH MFISFMK HKSLF

minutely shakes his head a little trying to clear the daze being around Jack Hughes puts him in ← they're in love it's so gross ❤️

Roman Josi mention LET'S GO. I've been very on board this train you've introduced me to simply for the fact that it's hilarious. Handsome older Swiss man with even better beard comes sweeping in and Jack Takes It Personally. As if his whole "Switzerland is my entire personality" bf would not be all about that. I like to imagine every couple of months Jack's duolingo app gets a fervent and violent burst of activity. Nico's absolute cluelessness in the face of meeting his idol again made me cackle out loud.

he grabs Nico’s helmet from the shelf above his stall and places it on Nico’s head as a final touch and pats it once for good measure and leans in a little to place a small kiss on his Captain’s helmet. ← very very very very cute. Love is stored in the new jersey devils core.

Also - Luke going around giving player stats to ppl Nico has known longer than he has was the best. A glimpse into the bit. Nico indulging Luke at every turn with a "Thank you Luke". Everyone getting read as Luke perceives them. He is the jester of the NJD locker room and everyone should fear him a little.

“This is Jack Hughes. Nickname: Jacky. He’s one of the two first overall picks on the New Jersey Devils right now. The other one is you. He’s your Alternate Captain and you love him or something and I’m pretty sure he’s gonna kiss you now.”

“Shut the fuck up, Moose.”

“Thank you, Luke.” ← perfect perfect perfect end. Luke's return!! wonderful codependent captain and his A!! Nico chant!!

I love this fic. I would read 30,000 words of it. I will also read all 3K of it 10,000 times. thank you for sharing! absolutely delightful!

these are my purposes on this earth: LukeNemo supremacy, bottom!Nico rights, the Nico and Luke youngest child bond, and Jack Hughes v. Roman Josi is real.

I'm so so so so thrilled you are on this ride with me and enjoying it thusly.

NEMOTISM, you've killed me dead. Nemotism. I am adopting that into my vocabulary ASAP. Luke suffering from Nemotism, but loving every minute of it.

They should just give Luke a camcorder and have him follow the team around while he's out of commission and give us content. He would get the best bits.

We need to get Rino and Katja on the horn to give us more Nico as a child lore please. I need to be even more chin hands, kicking my feet, swinging my legs about him.

Just wanted Luke and Nico to get up the shenanigans.

Having you read my writing is one thing, having you enjoy it is another thing, but having you tell me in painstakingly loving detail why and how much you love it could fly me to the moon, my friend. It is always, always an honor.

so happy to have our little corner of the Devils fandom where we just sit and say "exaaaaaaaactly" to each other over and over again with an obligatory seal video/picture/gif inserted in randomly. I love sharing this space with you and it makes my absolute life that you liked something I wrote this much.

here's to many more unhinged messages, play time in our little sand box, and Jack and Nico making us scream on main.

#alpineshift #Ask #Text #Question #FANDOM FRIENDS #so important to have!#they sustain you!

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a-little-revolution · 3 years ago

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Do you think that a lot of the media depicting dwarfism is true to your or the general lived experience of people with dwarfism? I feel like what ive seen of it (read: mostly TLC style reality tv) seems sensationalized and othering, but i dont know if thats really the case. Is there anything you would point to as worth watching?

Seperate question: aside from stuff like boosting the voices of people with dwarfism, what are the best ways to ally with and support little people?

Hello! When it comes to reality TV in particular, I find it's target audience is usually able bodied people who are curious about the inner lives of people with dwarfism. Which, in and of itself, isn't necessarily a bad thing - so long as the show then takes the opportunity to humanize and de-stigmatize little people.

The only little reality shows I've seen have been Little People Big World and The Little Couple. I remember enjoying both shows a lot as a child - it was amazing to see other LPs going about their lives, especially as someone who didn't know many other little people personally. But as I got older the shows started leaving a bad taste in my mouth - people around me started to compare me to the little people they'd seen on TV, especially Zach from LPBW. They'd wonder why I wasn't as fit as him, why the physical ailments of my disability were so much worse, and they'd think they'd know my experience better than I did simply because they've seen little people on TV. Which I know weren't these show's intent - both were very educational despite being dramatized for television - but that was my experience on the receiving end.

I've heard there are several new dwarf reality shows these days, but I'm admittedly out of the loop since I'm not really a huge fan of the genre. I would still recommend The Little Couple, as well as films such as Willow, Penelope, and Game of Thrones when it comes to LP representation.

To answer your second question:

To support little people is to fight for disabled justice. Notice when spaces aren't accessible - make a fuss. Keep disabled people in mind when voting, when putting on events, when rioting.

Point out when your friends or peers are being ableist and anti-dwarf. Don't tolerate jokes from Austin Powers and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Little people are not things.

Educate yourself on dwarfism and other disabilities. Find reputable sites like Little People of Ontario.

Remember that disabled justice is the bedrock of equality - they rolled so you could run. You have disabled people to thank for equal access to healthcare, education, transportation. And you will have disabled people to thank again when you're 70 years old and in need of medicine and walking aids.

Break down your preconceived notions of what makes a body beautiful, what makes a body worthy. Learn to see little people as more than their body, but most importantly, learn to see little and disabled bodies as beautiful.

Hope this helps! Wishing you well! - Elliot (they/them)

#asks #dwarfism #dwarfism awareness #disability awareness #disability #disabled #little person #disabled lgbt #queer

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kuekyuuq · 4 years ago

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I have to ask...

Where do the anti-supercorp people get the idea from that Lena Luthor is xenophobic?

Are we watching the same show?

I can see how one does not like Lena.

I can see how some of Lena's actions can be considered irredeemable.

I can see that her family was/is xenophobic.

I can agree she made some horrible mistakes in judgement.

Canon told us:

Lena was fired by Lex from LuthorCorp because he thought her naive about her pro-alien stance. The same brother who analysed Lena since she was four.

Lena was horrified when Lex tied her to a chair and made her watch his attempt to kill Superman by turning the sun red

Lena came to National City in hopes to work with Supergirl (an alien)

Lena actively re-branded LutherCorp to LCorp to get rid of the anti-alien stuff and everything else people connected with the Luthor name

Yes, Lena created an alien-detector, but her intention was one out of ignorance (of the backlash this could cause), not of hate - when Kara much later explains the potential bad the item could cause, Lena is very much listening

Lena helps Kara on several occasions, using her intel and providing it to Kara, so Kara can investigate and write articles to dismantle anti-alien organisations (e.g. Veronica Sinclair's fight club, Cadmus)

Lena helps Supergirl on several occasions, using her intel and providing it to Supergirl, so Supergirl can dismantle anti-alien organisations

Lena actively seeks to dismantle Cadmus - the anti-alien group - even before Lena started suspecting Lillian to be involved

Lena schemes against Lillian to use Medusa to kill all aliens on Earth

Lena testified both against her alien-hating mother and brother

As soon Lillian told Lena about Lex' former facilities, she starts looking into them - they are well hidden, so it does take her a while (and by this date in the show, she may still not have unearthed all of them) - and dismantles many of them / continues to give Kara/Supergirl information about them (e.g. when Kara asks Lena for tech to find missing aliens, Lena offers to look into L-Corp (= former LutherCorp) database to search for anything useful for that particular cause

Lena encourages Kara strongly to find a way to warn all aliens about the alien registration manifest being leaked - she inspired Kara to "blob"

When Lillian finds out Lena is pro-alien and helping find the abducted aliens, she has her goons try to scare her off ("nothing permanent" - the goons accidentally threw Lena off her balcony...) - even her own family sees how non-xenophobic Lena is

Lena sacrifices Jack (her former boyfriend and still potential romantically involved one) to save Supergirl (the alien) - and (rightfully) blames the human woman, who controlled Jack, for it

When Lena suspects and confirms Rhea to be an alien, she cuts ties with her - because Rhea lied to her, not because she's an alien

Lena starts working with Rhea (confirmed alien) again - to help aliens who "weren't as lucky" as Rhea's people and to further and better Earth technologies; reduce environmental damages by infrastructure / good transports / traffic.... only to be betrayed by Rhea.

Lena learns Mon-El, Kara's boyfriend, was Daxamite and has zero issues about it

Lena has no issue with Sam being half-alien, but with the Reign-half being a huge menace to Earth, so tries to stop her and save Sam

The DEO kept Kryptonite in case any of the Supers went rogue - like Batman and Oliver Queen kept theirs - Lena kept and created Kryptonite and Harun-El to ...cure cancer; to fight against sicknesses, to use as a clean energy-source, to... do good things

...yes, she lied about it. But, her not-so-wrong reasoning was "if I tell, they will take it away. If they take it away, I won't be able to do good with it."

Lena rather had Supergirl drop her than chemicals that could have harmed thousands (human and alien)

Lena becomes quick allies and friends with Brainy (admitably, in many ways he's more AI than alien...) and befriends Nia later on, too

What else does Lena do with her stash of Kryptonite and the knowledge she gained from it? When Mercy & Otis Graves irradiate Earth's atmosphere with Kryptonite, Lena already has created an anti-Kryptonite suit for Supergirl and the fact it’s already at hand saves Supergirl’s life!

That's only up to season four...

Yes, Lena did shitty stuff in season five. Arguably, for the right reasons, but ‘the road to hell is paved with good intentions’... But were any of those things xenophobic?

The problem she has with Kara in season five is NOT because she’s an alien - but because she felt betrayed, personally. Rightfully so? Eeeeeeeh.... while it surely must have hurt to learn your best friend lied to you and played two personalities, at times taking advantage of it, too - which, let’s be honest, Kara did - Kara did have her reasons (initially), it IS selfish for Lena to assume the worst and take the fact itself so personally. But, everybody lives in their own world, I am sure - dear few readers, who took it upon yourselves to read this monster of a post - we can agree, that we all judge the world and others based on our own perceived reality, based on our own experiences, emotions and circumstance, whether we try to be better than that or not... I’d even make the argument, Lena is more upset with her intimate friend “Kara” (whom she shared her most intimate thoughts and feelings with) having lied to her, than with “Supergirl” taking advantage of her. Being played, Lena can deal with, but trusting and seeing that trust shattered... low blow. Please, correct me if I’m wrong, but to my knowledge, the only time Lena uses Kara being an alien against her, is when she uses and reworks the Fortress of Solitude's already existing settings to trap Kara in there for long enough for herself to get a head-start on getting Myriad to work (how else was she supposed to achieve that?). Myriad, which she wanted to use to STOP hate, including racism (xeno-cism?). Brainwashing everyone is most certainly a veeeeeeery misguided approach, but the premise of ending all hate and the resulting pain is very much like the notion of "praying for world peace" - just that Lena got sick of praying and decided to actually go ahead and do something about it ((again: notion good; (attempted) execution horrifying)).

Even Lena trapping Malefic was to that very end. She trapped Eve (human) as well on that line of thought. At the least, she offered Malefic a deal to his liking as payment...? Eve on the other hand....

If anything, Lena is people-phobic. She has a hard time trusting anyone, remains suspicious to a fault. ...she did effectively kill Eve on Earth-38, though, by over-writing her with Hope.

Kara forgave her aunt, who came just as close, wanting to use Myriad for very similar purposes - and then forgave Lena, eventually, just as much. The difference being, Astra died. We never got to see if Astra would have actually stopped her plan, convinced Non, and/or would have aimed / worked hard to redeem herself...

In the same episode, where Lena's attempts with Myriad failed (and Hope took the fall) Malefic, who had tried to murder multiple people as part of his revenge against his brother (and had targeted Kelly for a while, too) was set free by J'onn and sent to Mars to do good there.

The whole of National City forgave Supergirl (and her potential for going bad and for her causing actual destruction) only a week after the redK incident...

All that said:

1) Lena lied to Kara and played her. Sure, Lena felt betrayed and from her point of view, with her set of experiences and her own preexisting many traumas and (very bad) coping mechanisms, it was... well, understandable... or at least traceable. But, forgivable? That's ultimately up for her victim (Kara) to decide. And, apparently, she does forgive her. Not easily. But she does; understands both sides, evaluates, listens to others, observes the remorse, and makes her own decision / judgement... which is (initially, tentative) forgiveness.

2) The show is REALLY BAD at dealing with characters' actions’ or events' consequences. Period. There is no real consistency, 'cept that things don't have real repercussions. That is how the writers decided to write the show from season one on. If the writers think Kara forgives Lena and show it, then that's that.

3) Every time I read the notion that Lena was/is xenophobic, I can't help but wonder if anyone who claims such even watched the show.

4) Lena is not her brother. She's flawed. She makes mistakes. But for once, Lena and her character are suffering the consequences. That may not enough for the liking of Lena Luthor haters, or anti-Supercorp taggers, but it is what it is - and it is much more than most any actual bad guy had to suffer through. Bad guys with evil intentions, (mass) murderers, people (alien and human) that rationally caused lasting harm and/or trauma to their victims.

5) Lena is not xenophobic.

Kue out.

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high-functioning-lokipath · 4 years ago

Text

Star Trek - Leonard "Bones" McCoy x reader - Southern Charm - Words: 3,556

A/N: While I did write this with TOS in mind, I do believe it is fairly AOS compliant as well. Enjoy!

"Lieutenant Commander Y/N L/N, Chief Medical Officer of the Starship Serenity."

"Welcome aboard the Enterprise, Doctor L/N. I'm Captain James T. Kirk. This is my first officer, Commander Spock and our CMO, Doctor McCoy. We're looking forward to having you as the first trainee in the Starship Exchange Training program."

"Pleasure to meet you all. And I'm looking forward to it as well," You replied, stepping off the transporter pad. You gave the Captain a handshake, the First Officer a Vulcan salute and then turned to the grumpy looking CMO.

"How old are you?" He demanded to know.

"Old enough," You assured him, crossing your arms. "Why do you ask?"

"Just don't see many youngsters like you with that rank," He trailed off, leaving the statement open ended.

"Well, I happen to be an outlier. Or haven't you heard of that, Doctor? Besides, I'm not that young," You replied, curtly. You didn't often become confrontational this quickly but questions on your age and suspicions on how you got your rank were a sore spot for you.

"Just because I have to train you doesn't mean I have to like it," McCoy grumbled.

"I never asked you to." You quickly grabbed your bag that was transported with you and walked to the doors. Just before you stepped out to the hallway, you turned back around. "Captain, Commander, have a good evening. I am looking forward to working with you two over the next few weeks. Don't worry, I know where my quarters are. Doctor, I will see you at 6."

As you unpacked your bag, you thought over what happened in the transporter room. You had really been looking forward to this training and you had heard many great things about the Doctor. Of course, you had also heard he was a bit of a grump, but you hadn't thought it was this bad! You decided to stay in your room for the rest of that evening, as it was already late when you arrived, and try for a fresh start in the morning.

"Are you out of your mind? I'm a doctor, not an assassin!"

"I was simply saying, Doctor McCoy, that Starfleet medical personnel are completely untrained in self defense techniques! We are trained to save lives, not take them. That I completely agree with. But we must also be trained how to defend and disable. Defend ourselves, disable our opponents. Otherwise we may become a hindrance to any away missions we get assigned on!"

"Look, even if you're right, and you're not, when would we have the time to train?" He yelled. "Have you ever been to medical school? Do you know how stressful that is?"

"Of course I went to med school! I happened to graduate top of my class! And I remember very clearly how stressful it is! But they need to make it work! Even another month would be enough for most!"

"Another month?" He screeched. He raked his fingers through his hair and rubbed his forehead. "Look, I have plenty of training to defend myself in the field. Let's just agree to disagree and get this over with."

"Alright, Doctor," You sighed. The first 2 weeks of training slowly passed with the only change in attitude being on your side. You'd gotten to disliking the Doctor as much as he disliked you. Every day you trained was near constant arguing and insulting.

Unbeknownst to you, Kirk had started taking bets from the senior crew members on when in the final week you two would get together. Whoever won would get 3 days vacation. The current bets on Kirk's paper were:

Uhura: As she steps on the transporter to leave Thursday

Scotty: Monday

Chekov: End of shift Tuesday

Sulu: Beginning of shift Wednesday

Spock: At precisely 07:35 in the evening Friday

Kirk looked oddly at Spock when he submitted his estimate. "Spock, you do realize she is scheduled to leave Thursday afternoon."

"Yes, Jim."

"So why-"

"I have my reasons."

"Logical, I'm sure."

"Quite. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm needed in engineering."

"Ok, Spock. But don't get your hopes high about any vacation!"

Monday: Scotty's Day

You got up early and headed down to the rec room to get breakfast. Usually you had breakfast in your room but this morning, oddly enough, Scotty had invited you to join him for breakfast. Once you entered the rec room you mentally groaned. Of course McCoy would be there!

"Good morning, Scotty," You greeted, walking up to his table which was unfortunately right next to Kirk, Spock, and McCoy's table.

"Aye! And an even lovelier morning with you here, lassie!" You blushed slightly, surprised at the engineer's comment.

"Oh please!" You scoffed. You were about to walk away to the replicators to get your food when Spock cleared his throat.

"I believe Mister Scott is correct, Doctor. Your hair and makeup accentuate your natural beauty quite well."

"Spock!" You, Kirk and McCoy gasped at the same time.

"Look here," You finally said, gathering your composure. "I appreciate a compliment here and there but really! I'm going to go get my breakfast and I don't want to hear one more peep out of any of you when I return! Understand?" They all nodded and stuck to their word, not another compliment for the rest of the day.

Tuesday - Chekov's Day

Your shift had gone fairly well. Training with Doctor McCoy was finally becoming almost bearable and there hadn't been any major disasters. "Doctor, was there anything else you needed me for today?" You asked, stepping into the open doorway of his office.

"No, you can go if you'd like," He sighed, not lifting his eyes from his PADD.

"Is something troubling you, Doctor?"

"Just a lot of paperwork, darlin'," He said absently. You blushed brightly and he quickly tried to correct himself. "I mean, Doctor. Sorry." He finally looked at you, face as red as yours. You nodded and attempted to make a hasty exit but you ran into a gold blur.

"Oh! Ezcuze me!" Chekov quickly said, helping you up. "I'm wery sorry! Are you hurt?"

"Only my pride, Pavel," You replied, dusting yourself off.

"What in blazes happened out here?" McCoy yelled, stomping out.

"Oh nothing, Doctor," You assured him.

"Well watch where you're going next time!" He ordered. With that he marched back to his office and closed the doors. You sighed and wished Chekov goodnight before leaving.

"No vacation," Chekov mumbled softly before leaving Medbay too.

Wednesday - Sulu's Day

You walked into Medbay to start your shift only to find Sulu already there. "What are you doing here so early?" You asked. "Your check-up isn't for another 45 minutes."

"I wanted to make sure I got here on time. You know how it is on the bridge sometimes," He chuckled. You nodded and chuckled lightly. You checked the schedule on the PADD and noticed the Ensign before him had cancelled.

"Well, Sulu, you just managed to get an early appointment. Step on up!" You had him sit on the nearest biobed and grabbed your Tricorder. As you started running over the usual check-up points, Dr. McCoy walked in.

"You're here early," He commented. Sulu nodded and you explained what happened. "Alright. Y/N, I'm going to leave you to it. I have a headache this morning and I think I'll just sit in my office for a bit with the lights down." You looked at him a little better, noticing how exhausted he looked. His hair was a mess and there were dark bags under his eyes. He may be a pain but he was still human and you felt for him.

"Did you need me to get you anything, Doctor?" You asked. He shook his head but groaned at the movement. "Just comm me if you need anything." He made a noise of agreement and you went on with Sulu's checkup.

Thursday - Uhura's Day

"Good morning, Y/N," Uhura greeted you in the turbolift on your way to Medbay.

"Good morning, Uhura," You replied abit sadly.

"You alright, sweetheart?"

"I'm going to miss you all. I love my ship and my crew, don't get me wrong, but," You trailed off, unsure of how to explain yourself.

"You don't feel like family there?" She filled in. You nodded slightly. "Oh honey, I understand. Don't feel bad, alright? Who knows! Maybe you'll get a transfer one day even!"

"That would be nice I guess," You admitted. The doors swooshed open and as you stepped out, Dr. McCoy walked by.

"Doctor L/N," He said, sounding somewhat frustrated. "I need you to gather all the anti-toxin hypos we have."

"Of course. Is everything alright?"

"Spock just told me we're going on a mission tomorrow. He should have told me at least 2 days ago. The new colony on Oliza 6 sent out a distress call about 1 week ago saying that something was wrong. They said some of the younger people were having strange reactions to some of the foods."

"That's odd. Isn't the food on a planet usually tested first?"

"Yes but apparently they forgot to test on the younger adults. Blasted regulations. Test one adult you've tested them all." At this point you had nodded a silent goodbye to Uhura and started walking with Doctor McCoy down the hall. "Let's see if we can't find out what's on that planet and run some tests of our own. Might save some time."

"Doctor?" You said, somewhat hesitantly.

"Yes?"

"I do have to go back to my ship this afternoon. I," you paused. McCoy had finally started to be nice with you and now you had to go. You didn't want to upset him again on your last day. "I'll help as much as I can on the tests of course, Doctor, but I-"

"No, no," He said with a sigh. "I didn't realize it was Thursday." He smiled slightly and put his hand on your shoulder. "If you tell anyone what I'm about to say, I'll have to kill you," He joked. "Your work has been excellent. Your skill set is beyond your years and please don't take that wrong. You've impressed me." You blushed at his praise. "Of course, I still don't agree with the extra combat training," He added. You rolled your eyes and he chuckled. "But I guess you're not so bad."

"Well thank you, Doctor. I, uh, I guess I'll get the hypos for you now."

"Oh, um, yes, thank you," he replied somewhat awkwardly. The rest of your shift went about the same. You and the Doctor awkwardly dancing around each other. Eventually, though, the time came for you to finish packing, and leave the Enterprise.

As you headed to the transporter room, Uhura came running up to you with a small package in her hands. "What's this?" You asked.

"Oh, just a little going away present that a few of us put together for you."

"That's really sweet of you. Thanks so-"

"Bridge to Lt. Uhura," The Captain's voice rang through her comm.

"Duty calls!" She exclaimed. "Keep in touch!"

"Will do!" You replied, heading off to the transporters. Once you got there though, you saw Scotty talking to the Captain through the comm. He seemed upset about something.

"But Captain! I-"

"Scotty, we need to help that colony. There's no time."

"Aye, Captain. Scott out," He sighed. "I cannae believe 'at."

"What's wrong?"

"Oh, lassie. I'm so sorry! The Captain just got an emergency message from Oliza 6. We're heading there straight away."

"So I'll be staying another night?"

"At least." Your brows furrowed in thought. While you did want to get back to your ship to start your transfer application, a few more days here was not all that bad.

"Ok," You replied. Scotty seemed surprised. "I'll just take this back to my room and then head to Medbay. They'll probably need me handy."

"Aye. I'll let the Captain and Doctor know." You nodded in reply and headed off. When you returned to Medbay, you could have sworn you saw a look of relief on McCoy's face.

"Doctor L/N," McCoy said. "I'm putting you in charge of Medbay for the time being." Your eyebrows raised in surprise. "Jim's put me on the landing party and you technically are the next ranking medical officer on this ship."

"Well, thank you, I guess," You said. "Have you made any progress on the tests?"

"I believe so," He pulled up some test results on his PADD and showed them to you. "The hobgoblin ended up helping me but he was actually of some use." He looked around furtively. "Don't tell him I said so though."

"I promise," you said seriously. You stared at each other for a moment before you both broke out into a fit of laughter.

"Really though, the fruits on Oliza 6 seem to be causing a buildup of adrenaline in their systems causing aggression, anxiety and heart problems."

"Hm, interesting."

"That's what the hobgoblin said," McCoy grunted. You chuckled and he finished explaining their plan to administer hypos to everyone. The comm suddenly whistled.

"Bridge to Dr. McCoy," Uhura said.

"Yes, Lieutenant?" He replied.

"The Captain is preparing to beam down now and would like you to meet him in the transporter room."

"Alright, I'm on my way." You followed the Doctor as he gathered a few last minute items from his office. When he grabbed his phaser from his desk you couldn't help yourself.

"Doctor, that phaser is last year's model. Didn't you get your new one?"

"Oh, must not've. I'll ask Scotty for one." He grabbed his communicator and flipped it open. "McCoy to Scott."

"Scott here. Whaddya need, Doctor?"

"L/N said my phaser is old. Got a new one for me?"

"Sure do, Doc. I'll have her all polished up for ya when ya get to the transporters. Just remember, this one's a wee bit more powerful than the last. She's got a bit of a kick!"

"Don't worry, Scotty, I'm sure I can handle it. McCoy out." You looked worriedly at him because, knowing his views on defense training and based on what he said, this new phaser would throw him for a loop.

"Doctor, perhaps you should just stay with your old pha-"

"Doctor L/N," He said stiffly. "I do not want to hear anything more about training. I am perfectly capable of defending myself. Please do not worry yourself. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a mission to attend to. Do you think you'll be able to handle Medbay while I'm gone?"

"Of course, Doctor McCoy," You snapped. You heard the Medbay doors swoosh closed and sighed, leaning on he's desk in his office. You closed the office doors and locked them, needing a moment to gather yourself. "Gah! That man is so annoying!" You yelled to yourself. "If he doesn't get himself killed on this mission-" you left your threat unfinished. "Oh! I could just kiss him," You seethed. "I mean, kick." You paused, mid-pace, and shook your head vigorously. Your brain had apparently taken a left turn without telling you. "Did I seriously just-and now I'm talking to myself. Ok, Y/N, get yourself together. You'll figure it out later." You finished your little pep talk and headed back out.

The first few hours were fine. One or two clumsy engineers with a few cuts and bruises. A sniffle here and a headache there. It was actually somewhat relaxing. You decided to be a little helpful and got some paperwork done for Dr. McCoy. As you sat in his office tapping away on your PADD, you found yourself lost in thought. You hoped he wouldn't be upset that you did some extra work for him. "That's not what I asked you to do, Doctor!" You mocked under your breath. Chuckling slightly you continued your quiet monologue, "Oh wouldn't he be upset if I ran a report on him. He definitely is overworked. He'd come in here, yelling and screaming in that adorable southern accent of his, and he would proba-" You interrupted yourself again. Staring off for a second, realizing what you just said. "Adorable? Good grief. I'm either unconscious or demented."

The rest of the shift went fairly well and you heard that the landing party was making good progress too. Finally you turned everything over to the night shift doctor and went to your quarters to get some rest before your shift began again in the morning. Your sleep that night was restless, though, and when your alarm went off you didn't think you had slept a wink.

Friday - Spock's Day

"Good morning, Doctor L/N," one of the nurses greeted you as you walked into Medbay.

"Good morning," You replied tiredly. "Anything on the schedule?" You asked as you got a cup of coffee from the replicator.

"No. Just a couple of vaccines that the nurses can take care of."

"Good. I'll be in the office if you need me then."

"Are you alright, Doctor?"

"Fine. Just couldn't sleep last night."

"Oh, I understand. I'm worried about Dr. McCoy too. As I understand, the reaction the youths are having is fairly viol-"

"I am not worried about the good doctor!" You yelled, angrily. "Just in case you didn't notice, he's not exactly my type. And even if he was, that is no concern of yours, nurse!"

"Permission to speak freely, Doctor?" She asked with a slight smirk.

"Of course," You replied, rubbing your forehead. "I'm not the dang Captain." She giggled lightly before replying.

"That's exactly what McCoy would say. No go get some rest. We'll hold down the fort, Doctor." With that she walked off to get a few things prepped for the day. As you walked into the office and sat down, you thought about her observation.

"Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit."

A few hours later, after a short nap and another cup of coffee, you were reorganizing the supply room when Scotty called through on the comm. "Doctor L/N! We're gonna need a team down here immediately! The captain and Dr. McCoy were injured and we're beaming them aboard right now!"

"Ok, Scotty, we'll be right there, how serious is it?" You replied. Chills had run up your spine when he said Dr. McCoy had been injured but you kept yourself focused.

"The Captain's not too bad. I think he said a broken arm. Doctor McCoy though. He's in pretty rough shape."

"Alright. L/N out," You signed off. You started to grab emergency supplies and sent the emergency team down to the transporter room. Just like Scotty said, McCoy was in critical condition by the time you saw him. He was completely unconscious, had multiple broken ribs, a broken right arm, a fractured left leg, and a concussion. After about 3 hours in surgery, he was finally patched up. You looked at the chronometer and saw it was about 3 in the afternoon. Deciding that you needed to talk to him as soon as he woke, you opted to sit guard on a chair next to his bed.

"Doctor L/N?" A nurse called out. You opened your eyes with a start. Looking at the chronometer again you realized another 4 hours had passed.

"Has he woken up?" The nurse nodded. "Well why didn't you wake me?" You whisper yelled, not wanting to wake him now.

"For the same reason you're whispering now. He didn't want to wake you." You shook your head and looked back at him sleeping on the biobed. "His vitals are good and he will likely make a full recovery in about a week."

"Oh no! This doctor is getting a prescription for some real R&R for at least a month. He's been far too overworked." You immediately grabbed the PADD with his chart information and put him on medical leave for a month. The nurse smiled at you and shook her head.

"You know, you're technically off duty now. You can head back to your quarters."

"I think I'll stay here a bit longer," You said slowly, a blush rising to your cheeks.

"I thought so," She nodded. You settled back down in the chair and got a bit more paperwork done on your PADD. Looking at the chronometer again you saw it just turned to 7:33pm. You heard a groan from the bed and saw the Doctor waking up.

"Well hello there, darlin'," He smirked.

"Hello, Dr. McCoy," You smiled.

"Oh for Pete's sake, would you please just call me Leonard!"

"I'll consider it," You grinned. You stared at him for a moment, realizing again just how scared you had been.

"You alright, Y/N?"

"I was just so scared, Leonard," You admitted. "I wasn't sure if I'd ever be able to tell you-" you stopped mid-sentence, nervous to continue.

"Tell me what?" You decided to chance it so you bent over and gave him a quick kiss. Standing up quickly, you looked away embarrassed. "Well, I'm not sure I understood. Can I hear that again?" He smirked. You smiled and leaned forward again for another kiss. You vaguely heard the doors open but neither you nor Leonard paid attention.

"So, any plans for your 3 days vacation, Spock?"

#star trek #bones x reader #leonard mccoy #leonard mccoy x reader #star trek tos #star trek aos

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literallydontlook · 3 years ago

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The Unexpected (2/4)

You’re just not that interested in dating military men, nor have you ever been with an alien lover. But a chance Ascension Week encounter awakens something you didn’t know was inside. Chapter 2 of 4.

Pairing: Thrawn x f!reader

Rating: 18+

TW/CW: none (or if I’m missing something, please let me know!)

Tags: sexual tension, romance, slow burn, civilian reader, sexual fantasy, m@sturbation

Word count: 2k+

A/N: I know I said the whole thing is written, but I got sort of unhappy with it and thought I’d rewrite some. My Thrawn crush has sort of cooled so I couldn’t find the energy to do it. But! I am a woman of my word! Here’s part II, unedited, no beta we die like chiss.

<-- Part 1 - The Trap

Part 2 - Friends

Dajmita had returned in the morning wearing last night’s gown, her makeup smudged from a night of sexual activity. Removing her shoes, she found you curled up in a blanket on the sofa. Your makeup from the previous evening in a similar state of disrepair.

“What happened to you?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips.

“I tried to take someone home,” you groaned pulling the blanket over your head. She smiled impishly and then faltered, “Wait - What do you mean tried?”

“How do you do it? I took him to my studio for a ‘tour’,” your hands motioned in air quotes, “and he bought a piece of art and left.”

Dajmita was torn between laughter and pity. She sat down beside you and stroked your hair, pulling tangled pins out as she tried to sooth you, “Only you could miscommunicate a hookup.”

Your data pad pinged and you grabbed for it blindly from under the blanket. You groaned, “Aaa ugh it’s already noon?” You threw your legs over the side of the couch and dragged your feet to the refresher.

“Do you have to be somewhere?” Dajmita called from the other room. You washed your face and pulled the remaining pins from your head, then pulled your hair up into a messy half bun. You sighed.

“I promised to meet a friend for lunch,” you breathed out tiredly as you brushed your teeth.

“You could just cancel,” she pointed out.

There was only the sound of scrubbing as you considered this. Spitting out the foam and rinsing your mouth you decided you shouldn’t flake.

“No...I should go,” you sighed again, pulling off your gown and rummaging through your dresser for something comfortable to wear. Dajmita gave you a concerned look.

“Well, I guess you must be pretty comfortable with this person if you’re going out like that.” You looked in the mirror and shrugged. You grabbed a cloak and pulled the hood over your head, “It’s not like anyone wants to hook up with me when I’m dressed up anyway!” you cried out over-dramatically.

Dajmita crossed her arms, “Don’t say that.”

“Just let me wallow for one day,” you complained, dragging your feet out the front door, “I’ll be back later.”

She laughed, “Fine but you’re being ridiculous! We’re doing something fun when you get back!” she called after you.

“Fiiine!” you called back.

——-

Eli had already found a table at Dex’s Diner when you arrived.

“What’s with the cloak? Did you have a uh...rough night?” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows. You glared at him.

“Whoa sorry we don’t need to go into detail,” he raised his hands defensively. You buried your head in your arms, “Nothing happened.” Your voice was muffled.

He realized you were serious as you sat back up to give the waitdroid your order. “What do you mean nothing happened?” he asked incredulously.

You took a deep breath, your cheeks burning with embarrassment, “Stars I can’t be talking to you about this!” you cried out.

“Hey I’m not a little kid anymore,” Eli shot back. “You can talk to me,” he offered kindly.

“I mean, what more can I say? We went to my studio and he bought a painting and then left.” Now that some time had passed, you could laugh a little. Then a thought occurred to you.

“Is he married or something? Or anti-inter-species?” Eli’s face twisted in thought, “He’s definitely not married, but to be honest I didn’t realize he had a sexuality.”

“Oh.” you considered this, not sure if you should feel better with this new information. The waitdroid returned with your orders - the smell of grease inviting you to indulge.

“Well he wants me to install the painting he bought on his ship,” you said, jabbing at the mush on your plate. You received his transmitted instructions earlier that morning which only reminded you of your failure.

Eli stopped mid-bite. “He wants you to come to the Chimaera? ...In person? He didn’t ask you to hand it off to a stormtrooper at the landing dock?”

“Is that unusual?”

“I’ve never seen a civilian aboard a Star Destroyer. I don’t think you’re allowed...but then again, it’s his ship, so I guess he can sort of do what he wants,” Eli conceded.

“I’ll send him a message to confirm,” You said, your heart beginning to race again. Why do I feel so...excited? You push away the thought.

“Enough about Thrawn. What’s up with you? What are you doing here? Last my parents told me you were training to be a supply officer in the Expansion Region.”

Eli sat back and sighed, not sure where to begin.

—-

“You cannot get hung up on a random guy you don’t even want to date!” Dajmita spelled out loudly as she shook you by the shoulders.

“Please don’t yell at me.”

“I’m not yelling! I’m just making sure you hear me,” she huffed. “You’re so desperate for a fuck. This isn’t some failure you need to overcome. You said yourself this guy might be ace.”

“Well why would he ask me to install the art on his ship then? Civilians aren’t normally allowed,” you countered.

“Maybe he’s just really into art and wants to maintain the artist’s original intent- I don’t know!” Dajmita threw up her arms in frustration, “Why do you even care? You don’t even like military men. If you need someone to fuck, just ask Endel. He’d definitely do it!”

“You know I can’t lead someone on like that! I think he still has feelings for me!” you turned back to the mirror to finish applying makeup, “Ok does this look like I’m not trying too hard? I want to be taken seriously as a professional but like, a hot professional.” You stepped out of the refresher clad in workers clothes.

“I mean, if that’s what you’re going for...Like a carpenter from a pornographic holo vid,” she assured you. You looked down at your top, “Is it too tight?” You tried stretching your arms up to see how much of your mid drift would be exposed. You tried bending over, too.

“Oh yeah - just do that a lot,” Dajmita purred suggestively.

——-

The Chimaera was much bigger than you had ever imagined. Several Lambda-class shuttles were docked in the landing bay where hundreds of stormtroopers and Imperial officers buzzed about their business in an orderly rhythm.

You suddenly felt very self-conscious. Your civilian clothes drew more attention than you were used to and even the officer who scanned your security clearance regarded you suspiciously as he read your destination from his data pad.

“You have an appointment with…Admiral Thrawn?” He asked incredulously.

“That’s right. I’m installing a painting in his office.” This seemed to make sense to him, but he reached for his comm for confirmation.

“Sir - There’s a...female civilian here to install a painting?”

Thrawn’s voice came through the comm, “Yes, please send her up with an escort.” Still somewhat suspiciously, the officer signaled a stormtrooper to meet you and he wordlessly lead you to a turbo lift.

You were fascinated by the cold design of the starship’s hallways. Every surface was immaculate, each crew member walking with purpose. There was almost complete silence, only the sound of murmured conversations and footsteps hung in the air. The path itself was dizzying - turn after turn after turn - you weren’t sure if you could find your way back.

Just as you began to wonder what was behind all of these sealed doors, your escort stopped at one guarded by another trooper.

“Code cylinders,” he demanded. Your guide handed him a pen-looking object and clarified, “This is only for her.” The object was inserted into a keyhole, opening the door behind him. “Go on in.”

Your escort turned and walked away, leaving you to enter Thrawn’s office alone.

The sound of clashing metal and of exertion filled the entryway. As you pushed the repulsorlift cart into the antechamber, you saw a door opened to a bright sparring room where Thrawn was combatting two large sentry droids. He expertly dodged each attack, countering with his own. You couldn’t help the warm feeling rising in your core again as you noticed his muscular arms for the first time. You imagined them pinning you to the floor as he pounded into you, a strong hand pulling your hair back.

Just as you caught yourself mid-fantasy, Thrawn noticed you and commanded the override code. The droids returned to their stations and powered down as the door hissed shut. You weren’t sure what to do next, but the door soon re-opened with a hiss and Thrawn emerged wearing his uniform jacket.

“I apologize - I thought I would have a few more moments before you arrived,” he said, fastening the cuffs on his sleeves. “Please, come in.” He ushered you through another door leading to his office. A large desk was situated in the center of the room, two reptilian sculptures flanking the display shelf behind it.

Thrawn led you through his office to an adjoining living space. “I’d like the painting to hang here. Please let me know if you need anything.”

“Th-thank you,” You shivered, realizing it was significantly colder here than in the hallway. Thrawn noticed your nipples had hardened in the cold, their outlines visible even through the layers of your shirt and bra. It was going to be difficult to concentrate today. He excused himself as you unloaded your work and began dismantling the piece’s wooden transport casing. After almost half an hour, you were able to carefully free the painting, only to realize it was too unwieldy for one person to lift.

You found Thrawn in his office, carefully studying star charts at his desk. Another fantasy intruded and clouded your vision: sitting at the edge of his desk, the holos of planets splashed against your skin, your legs spread wide as he drank in your cunt. He tweaked your nipples as you moaned in pleasure, the danger of being discovered only heightening your arousal. You breathed in deeply to ward away the thoughts.

You cleared your throat and he looked toward you.

“Could I have some help?” you asked, expecting him to call another officer or trooper to assist.

“I’m at your service,” he said to your surprise. He followed you back into the other room.

“I just need a hand lifting this onto the mounting brackets,” you explained. Thrawn situated himself on one side of the canvas and you heaved it up together, guiding its hanging wire in place. Just as it was lining up, he stole another glimpse of you. Your shirt rode up slightly as you worked and his eyes lingered on the small sliver of mid drift that was becoming more and more exposed in your exertion. With a deep breath, he fought back his primal urge to lunge.

You both stepped back to evaluate the painting’s placement. There was a long silence.

“…Is it…to your liking?”

“Yes…” he mused quietly, “Thank you…I believe I still owe you…payment.” His last word was almost a purr and you flushed as you fantasized a another meaning. Did he notice?

You followed him into his office, where he unlocked a desk drawer and pulled out a bundle of credits. He handed them to you, your fingers accidentally brushing against each other in the exchange. He saw your jaw tighten.

“I’ll be stationed on Coruscant for the next few months. There’s an exhibit on Mandalorian folk art that I think would be…educational. Would you care to join me?”

So he wasn’t going to bend you over his desk and have his way with you. Perhaps he really was only looking for a companion to discuss art with - he obviously wasn’t getting that kind of engagement from his peers. You were disappointed but not heartbroken. After all, it wasn’t like you had romantic feelings towards him. You accepted this invitation to friendship.

“I’ve been looking forward to that exhibition myself. When do you want to go?”

#thrawn x you #thrawn x reader #grand admiral thrawn #thrawn #thrawn fanfiction #the unexpected

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starlightrows · 4 years ago

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In The Eye Of The Beholder

Chapter 1

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: brief description and mildly graphic medical jargon about losing an eye and having a prosthetic implant placed

Summary: Shortly after the events of the Battle of Khorm, the Kaminoans don’t see the value in moving forward with treatment for Commander Wolffe... you, the GAR doctor on the Coruscant disagree

“I don’t remember asking for your goddamn opinion ambassador!” you shout up at the pale long necked Kaminoan, who’s been passively berating you in an attempt to get your patient taken off life support. Your communicator goes off loudly, and you feel no shame in looking at it instead of listening to the Kaminoan ambassadors retort.

“I’m sorry ambassador, but this discussion is over. The requisition for the cybernetic prosthesis has gone through and whether you like it or not, I am going to give that man a fighting chance. He didn’t lay down his life to be tossed out with the garbage. Now get out of my med bay,” your turn on your heel, and begin speaking into your comlink to arrange for the surgery to get underway immediately.

The procedure took nine grueling hours to fully clear out the wound, put in the prosthetic eye and reconstruct the damage to the soldier's facial structure. He stood a good chance of making a full recovery if the cybernetic innervations healed correctly. Now it was just a matter of letting him rest and wake up in his own time.

Most clone troopers in the GAR hospital didn’t get many visitors, most didn’t stay long enough to need visitors though the ones that lived through their ordeals usually recovered on transports back to the front line. But this trooper had a frequent visitor, a Jedi.

“He must be a very good commander for you to check in on him so often,” you comment one afternoon, standing by the door. The tall Kel Dor turned to face you.

“He is. A dutiful, loyal, hardworking commander. But that is not why I come to see him,” he says

“Why then? Certainly a Jedi Master and a General in the Grand Army of the Republic has many duties and responsibilities to see to,” you approach the bed with your tray of fresh wound dressings for his eye.

“The same reason you advocated for him when the Kaminoans wanted to let him die. He is a person. An individual. He is a good man. And he is a member of my team,” he explains while you work to remove the bandages that keep the stitches and cybernetics clean.

“You care for him,” you say with a smile, applying a layer of bacta gel to the stitches with a cotton bud.

“Indeed. I care for him, and all of his brothers that serve under my command. I am not the only one who worries after his health,” The jedi steps around you, trying not to be in the way.

“Well that makes two of us. I don’t even know him, but I want him to live. And not just to keep serving the republic,” you finish applying the bacta gel and begin rewrapping his head with clean bandages.

“You have a good heart doctor, and better view of the troopers than most. I think he’ll like you when he has the chance to formally meet you,” the jedi says

“I should hope so, he’ll have to come back fairly regularly for check ups and case study updates. He’s the first living being with this particular model of prosthesis. If he doesn’t like me, it’ll be a very unpleasant couple months until the study is complete,” you’ve finished wrapping his head, but find you can’t stop looking at his handsome face. True you’ve seen thousands exactly like his before, but right now it’s as if you’ve never seen anyone like him.

“I’ll be the first to admit, he’s stubborn and a bit gruff. But he’s not so bad once you get to know him, he’s fiercely protective and hates to feel weak. This will be a difficult recovery for him, but I have confidence in him. And in you doctor,” you tear your gaze away from the commander and smile at the jedi.

“Thank you master jedi,” you give him a small bow of your head out of respect.

“Plo,” he says “No need for such formalities,” you wonder briefly if he is smiling beneath his deoxygenator, it certainly sounds like it.

“And him? They don’t include their chosen names in their identification codes, just CC and CT numbers. I doubt he goes by his CC number day to day,” you pack away your equipment, unfortunately other patients are waiting, as much as you would love to stay and chat with the kind jedi master. Plo tracks your movements, he senses your rising anxieties about having to leave and attend to other matters in the hospital. Just as you’re about to leave without getting an answer, Plo speaks up.

“His name is Wolffe”

—

Much to your delight, Commander Wolffe does wake up within a few days. And he’s every bit the stubborn, defensive, and unwilling patient Master Plo promised he would be. He keeps getting up and trying to leave despite obviously being in immense physical pain, he’s already ripped his stitches once, and he’s down right refusing to let you get near him to check the wound and change the dressing.

“Commander Wolffe I am at my wits end here. I’m going to step out to allow you a visitor, and when I come back you will be laying on that bed, I am changing those dressings, you are taking your medication. Is that that clear?” You bark at him. He glares at you with his one amber eye but does not respond.

You push the door open and see Master Plo waiting on the other side.

“He’s all yours General, talk some sense into him if you can,” you toss the comment over your shoulder as you head down to the nurses station for a cup of water.

Master Plo enters the patient room, and finds Wolffe pacing against the far wall. His head snaps up, and he visibly struggles to bring the newcomer into his field of vision.

“General!” Wolffe says in surprise, straightening his posture

“Wolffe, your doctor tells me you’re refusing care,” Plo closes the door behind him.

“I should be out there,” Wolffe growls “Kriff… I shouldn’t even be alive right now. They’re keeping me alive to keep me in a box!”

Plo senses that there is something more, something he’s holding back, beyond wanting to be released from med bay.

“You know better than most that withholding the truth can be the determining factor between life and death,” Master Plo says carefully, approaching Wolffe with slow movements “but this truth is one that needs to be shared,”

Wolffe’s shoulders drop and what little color he’s managed to regain drains from his face. His knees give out and he sinks down onto the floor, tears stain both his good cheek and the bandage. Master Plo moves to join him on the floor.

“Good soldiers don’t lay around in hospital beds and weep over superficial pain,” Wolffe says weakly “Soldiers that don’t recover quickly… get decommissioned and sent back to Kamino in a box,”

“You are already recovering quickly, and your doctor can give you something for the pain so you can heal faster,” Plo says cooly “You are not being sent back to Kamino. Your doctor made sure of that,”

“What?” Wolffe was surprised to hear this, up to this point all of his conscious interactions with you had been rather gruff and none too friendly, he can’t imagine why you weren’t doing everything in your power to get him out of your hospital and out of your way.

“A Kaminoan ambassador came to assess treatment at this hospital and saw your condition, they incorrectly assumed that it would be more beneficial to cease all treatment. Your doctor, shall we say, violently disagreed,”

“Violently sir?”

“They were furious she went ahead with the surgery. Believe me, if someone had recorded it on a holo I would show it to you. It was quite the spectacle,” Master Plo laughs “She was adamant that you deserved a fighting chance,”

—

Later that evening after General Plo had left, you returned to Wolffe’s room with a tray of equipment to change his dressings, and medicine to help with the pain.

“Commander Wolffe if I come into this room and you throw something or scream at me, I will have you physically restrained,” you say sharply before fully entering the room. He’s sitting on the bed facing away from the door.

“I won’t yell,” he replies quietly without turning around, his tone is decidedly gentler than before. Whatever the General said to him must have done the trick. You approach him cautiously, rounding the end of his bed so you could get a good look at him. His face is set in a harsh grimace.

“Are you in pain?” You ask. He nods but doesn’t reply. “I am going to change those dressings and we’re gonna test out that new eye. I think with a good dose of anti inflammatory medication, and some intraocular movement you’ll feel better,”

He nods again, you drag a chair over and sit in front of him, he doesn’t bat your hand away when you move to unwrap his bandages. The silvery white cybernetic eye under the protective padding is downcast to match its whiskey gold twin. The stitches are finally healing up with the help of the bacta gel.

“Good news Commander I think you’re healed enough you won’t need a fresh bandage. Now let’s see how well this prosthesis works. Can you look at my nose?” You remove a penlight from your pocket and shine it in each of his eyes.

You run through a series of tests asking him to stare straight ahead at you, follow the light with his eyes, and tell you when he can or can’t see you moving the end of the pen out of his vision. Pressure and tightness on his left side subsides he continues moving his eye around.

“Your reactions look normal, how does it feel?” you click off your penlight and tuck it away.

“Hurts a bit less,” he quietly admits “I’m sorry about before,”

His change in demeanor is a surprise but a welcome one, far better than him trying to escape or aggressively get away from you. You give him a small cup with the anti inflammatory medicine in it, and second small cup with water. He takes the pills without complaint. You remain seated in front of him, to maintain this comfortable closeness.

“It’s okay. I know this isn’t easy,” you give him a sympathetic look.

“General Plo mentioned that you advocated for me, I would be dead if it wasn’t for you…” he falters “thank you,”

That familiar feeling you had before when he was still on life support crept back up on you. Heartbreak for how much he and his brothers have to sacrifice, longing to show him the appreciation he deserves, and something else, something you can’t place.

“This war won’t last forever. You deserve the chance to live in the freedom and peace you fight so hard to protect,”

He’s a bit stunned. Sure he’s heard a handful of politicians advocating for clone rights, but he’s never heard anyone say something like this. He can tell your words are genuine and heartfelt.

“Is there any way I can repay you, or thank you for sticking your neck out for me?” He asks “It takes guts to stand up to those soulless bastards,”

“Well ah… don’t thank me too fast. I know you didn’t exactly sign up for this but your prosthetic is a brand new top of the line prototype. By default you’re a participant in the longitudinal study of its effectiveness,” you admit sheepishly. He raises an eyebrow and peers at you. “On the positive side, you’ll get a bit more shore leave to come in for appointments,”

“Well that’s certainly nothing to complain about. My offer still stands, can I take you out as a thank you?”

You smile warmly and quirk up a brow to match him. “Take me out? Hm… I get off in a couple hours and you’re being discharged from med bay today, I’m game if you give me a chance to run home and ditch my scrubs,”

“It’s a deal,”

#Star Wars #Clone Wars #Commander Wolffe #Wolffe #cc 3636 #commander wolffe x reader #commander Wolffe x fem reader #my clone husband

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wesokkasimp · 4 years ago

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general zuko relationship headcanons

-hmm

-so i’m writing these for a post-war relationship

-don’t mind me projecting my crush on firelord!zuko

-this boy def doesn’t ask you out right away

-too nervous for that

-i know i said in my long distance h/c that he would propose right away, but that was for an established relationship

-if y’all aren’t already dating expect to be waiting a lil while

-once things have kinda… settled in the world? like it’s still rather unstable, but at this point most passive aggressiveness between nations is gone

-that’s when zuko would finally take some time for himself and his personal relationships

-if you had left the Fire Nation after the war to do other things, he may have realized he missed you more than the others

-and he missed you in a different way

-with the others he just missed interactions and the good times they had as team avatar

-and he missed that with you too

-but he also just kind of craves your presence

-your scent, your warmth, your touch, your voice

-he could probably sit in a room with you silently all day

-taking in the very essence of you

-because there’s just so much to take in

-when he realizes this, he doesn’t peg it as a crush at first

-zuko’s the guy that can read his friends and loved ones like a book but cannot decode his own feelings for the life of him

-poor kid :(

-he probably just pegs it as knowing you better than the others

-especially if you grew up in the Fire Nation

-ESPECIALLY especially if y’all grew up around each other

-but he starts to question his line of reasoning when you come to visit

-he hasn’t seen you since the southern water tribe drama

-and it’s been two or three years since then

-so you get off… the boat? idk wtf they use for transportation

-he’s waiting at the bottom of the harbor

-he knew when you stepped off the landing and he saw you for the first time in years

-he knew when all it took for him, a very focused person, to become distracted was you paging through a file of things for your work, a furrow in your brow

-when he can normally work through various natural disasters (the Fire Nation is an kind of an archipelago so i assume they get lots of hurricanes/tsunamis and stuff like that)

-THAT was when this boy finally came to his senses and realized he had a thing for you

-but him acting on it? that’s a whooooole different story

-HE’S SO SHY AND NERVOUS OMFG IT’S CUTE

-but it’s also a little annoying at times

-because for years he’s been loud and boisterous with you

-and now that he knows he has a thing for you he doesn’t know how to act

-you don’t catch on tho (thank god for him)

-like you know he’s acting different, but you don’t know why

-he knows you’re gonna figure out what’s going on if he doesn’t fix his behaviour soon

-so he keeps an air of normality around you

-but on the inside he’s still super shy and nervous

-zuko doesn’t have a ton of experience with relationships in general but especially romantic ones

-i don’t think he would’ve gotten with someone after mai broke up with him

-it took him a little bit to get over her, as seen in smoke and shadow

-he’s also a busy guy in general; not tons of time for dates

-iroh may have set up a few dinner dates but nothing substantial has grown from those

-so… in conclusion… king has no idea what the fuck he’s doing

-mai was a pretty special case as she was ridiculously low maintenance and showed zero emotion

-aka exactly like zuko

-i feel like them being so alike was probably one of the reasons their relationship didn’t work out

-like… i’m showing no emotion, you’re showing no emotion, i’m not gonna coax emotions out of you, you’re not gonna coax emotions out of me, we both bottle up anger at each other, ourselves, the world, etc, aaaand cue huge screaming match

-getting off topic whoopz

-since mai was so much like zuko, he had an idea of how to court her

-if he thought something sounded stupid, mai would probably think that too

-but it’s a different story with you

-you might have similarities to zuko but you’re not EXACTLY like him (if you are sorry but i had to make y/ns persona less generic)

-so… romantically? has no clue what the fuck you’re looking for in a relationship

-even if he knows you really well platonically, he thinks that doesn’t translate into romantic relations because he’s clueless ok

-so zuko decides on the subtle approach

-would he confess? no! of course not !!

-but do his touches tend to linger?

-does he let you catch him staring at you?

-is he suddenly very invested in the dating scene wherever you’re living?

-...yes

-and you’re not stupid, you catch on

-and… honestly, there’s no big confession from either of you

-things just sort of evolve on their own

-you end up staying in the Fire Nation a lot longer than you originally planned

-fun excursions that were once platonic turn more and more sensual and flirty

-pats on the back and high fives slowly become back rubs and hand holding

-but... HE STILL HASN’T ASKED YOU OUT

-at this point no one know what the fuck your relationship is

-friends? lovers? fwb?

-no one can figure it out

-least of all you

-i wish i could make zuko super smooth and have this super romantic confession but that would be so ooc for him

-HE TRIES HIS BEST BUT ROMANCE IS HARD FOR HIM OK >:(

-what probably happened was he took you out to dinner

-and you’re tired of not knowing what you are to him

-so you’re like zuko? what are we to each other?

-and he has been DREADING this question

-he knew it was coming eventually

-and to be honest he’s not quite sure either

-he knows he likes you as more than a friend

-and he’s pretty sure you feel the same way

-so he decides to go out on a limb and speak his mind (finally omfg)

- “More than friends, I think. I mean, I think of you as more than a friend… I think you feel the same way? Or-”

-“Zuko, it’s fine. I like you as more than a friend too, but we don’t have to label ourselves right away.”

-the boy is RELIEVED

-it’s like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders

-he’s not the kind of guy that says “i don’t like labels” as an excuse to fool around

-even though you never really talked about it, it’s a silent agreement that you’re both exclusive

-so… i mean that’s basically dating

-our boy just has commitment issues ok 😔

-eventually you start kissing him in the cheek

-when i tell you he was FLUSTERED when you did that the first time

-i honestly can’t decide if zuko hates pda or loves it

-he’s touch starved, so idk if he really craves or is really hesitant to physical contact

-if it’s the former, expect hand holding, cheek/forehead kisses, him wrapping his arm around your waist, etc

-even if he likes pda he keeps it professional

-if it’s the latter…

-the only consistent pda you’re gonna get is hand holding

-if ANYONE gives you shit for something like your socioeconomic status before you started dating zuko or if you came from somewhere outside the Fire Nation

-he will get annoyed and tell them off as politely as possible 🥰

-as for marriage…

-he wouldn’t really think it out that much if he was trying to decide if he wanted to marry you

-by the time he would be considering marriage, he knows right away that he does in fact want to marry you

-his PROPOSAL, however

-he definitely plans this big thing and then somehow messes it up after practicing it a bunch of times

-you still say yes ofc

-zuko is pretty dedicated to the Fire Nation, so he will most likely follow most traditional aspects of the Fire Lord and Lady’s wedding

-he’d integrate important wedding traditions if your culture if you’re from another nation

-married life would be pretty similar to pre married life

-he just gets to call you his wife now :)))

-so it’s canonical that people try to assassinate zuks

-like ALL the time

-he felt like he could handle it but once you moved in with him he started to become very worried :(

-so he beefed up the security around his quarters. even if you also have training in combat he just wants to sleep a little sounder

-hngh if y’all want kids that can be another post this is already kinda long

-that all folks :)

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AHHHHH HI THESE ARE VERY LATE BUT THEY ARE HERE,,,,, anyways might have to turn off my inbox because,,, uh,,, very angry anti semites and zionists in there rn don’t really feel like getting death threats today

#Zuko #zuko headcanon #zuko fluff #zuko x reader #zuko x you #Avatar The Last Airbender #atla #Mai #atla headcanons #atla fanfic

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garakcore · 4 years ago

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A Guide to My Fics :)

MY PERSONAL FAVORITES

So I Tell Him - Julian is stricken with amnesia, leaving his husband, Garak, to care for him. Garak/Bashir, ~2K, General Audiences. Extra note: this may be my favorite Garashir fic I’ve written.

Give it Time - Tora Ziyal comes out as transgender, causing chaos with Gul Dukat. Garak and Kira try to get along for Ziyal -or rather, Zilar's- sake. ~2K, General Audiences

Computer, End Program - When Quark gets a new holosuite program that allows two people to produce a hologram child, Garak and Julian jump at the chance. Garak/Bashir, ~9K words, Mature

I Love You Too - And I say, "I love you." Garak/Bashir, ~500 words, General Audiences.

The Insatiable Hum - Garak’s implant mysteriously turns on. Garak/Bashir, ~5K words, Teen and up

Tell Tail - Garak has a problem. Whenever he sees Dr. Bashir, his tail starts to wag uncontrollably. Garak/Bashir, ~2K words, General Audiences

Auld Lang Syne - On Garak's first New Year back on Cardassia Prime, he receives a letter from Dr. Bashir, along with a recommendation of a song. Garak/Bashir, ~1K, General Audiences

Certain Insecurities - “I wish you would stop calling me beautiful.” Garak/Bashir, ~1K words, Teen and up

Spooning - Julian just wants to spoon, but Garak thinks it's an anti-Cardassian racial slur. Garak/Bashir, ~500 words, General Audiences

I Can’t Believe You Believe in Me - Garak doesn’t feel like he deserves Julian. Garak/Bashir, ~1K words, Mature

THE BEST OF EXPLICIT

Fascinated - The gay remake of “Fascination” you didn’t know you needed. Garak/Bashir, Kira/Dax, Odo/Quark, ~7K words, Explicit

A Most Enlightening Experience - When Julian learns that Garak has never touched himself, he offers to teach him how. Garak/Bashir, ~3K words, Explicit

Inside the Fitting Room - Garak has wanted Julian for a long time now. He hopes that, by inviting Julian in to try on his new suit, something might happen between them. Garak/Bashir, ~3K words, Explicit

Good For You - Garak has a thing for Julian praising him. Garak/Bashir, ~600 words, Explicit

The Reverie - A Cardassian named Vrell Jad, the suspected author of Garak's least favorite book, arrives on Deep Space Nine. Garak finds himself facing his past in more ways than one, and examining his current relationships. Pre-Garashir, Garak/Original Male Character, ~7K words, Explicit

Way Better Than Ore Processing - When Julian and Kira are transported to the mirror universe, to Julian's delight, this universe's Garak takes an immediate interest in him. Mirror Garak/Bashir, Garak/Bashir, ~2K words, Explicit

The Most Attractive Word - The most attractive word, Julian thought, is 'yes'. Garak/Bashir, ~700 words, Explicit

Restrained - Garak has been looking forward to Julian tying him up for a long time. Garak/Bashir, ~1K words, Explicit

A Whole New Kind of Chocolate - A Garashir “If Wishes Were Horses” retelling. Garak/Bashir, ~4K words, Explicit

Disparaging Remarks - When Julian learns about Cardassian flirting, he decides to try it on Garak. And he gets very into the role. Garak/Bashir, ~1K words, Explicit

You Can Say That Again - Julian has a suggestion. Garak/Bashir, ~1K, Explicit

A Thousand Different Reasons - Stuck in Mila's basement, Garak and Damar develop feelings for each other. But when they act on those feelings, they both find themselves thinking of someone else... Garak/Damar, Garak/Bashir, Damar/Dukat, ~2K,

TRANS JULIAN AND/OR TRANS GARAK

Hold it Against You - Garak and Julian both want to come out to each other as transgender. Garak/Bashir, ~1K, General Audiences

I Wouldn’t Have it Any Other Way - Julian comes out as transgender to Garak. Garak/Bashir, ~1K words, Teen and up

Just Right - Garak discovers Julian likes being told certain things during sex. Garak/Bashir, ~700 words, EXPLICIT

What You Said You Would Do - Julian makes a frankly shocking suggestion to Garak, which brings up some feelings. Garak/Bashir, ~900 words, EXPLICIT

NOT GARASHIR

Stars - I think of you when I see the stars. Jadzia/Lenara, ~600 words, General Audiences

The Situation - Kira and Jadzia have to share a bed under strange circumstances. Kira/Dax, ~400 words, General Audiences

There are more, but this list is getting long, and also, I’m not happy with those.

#star trek #ds9 #star trek ds9 #deep space nine #deep space 9 #garashir #elim garak #garak #julian bashir #dr bashir #garak/damar #kiradax #jadzia x lenara #tora ziyal

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lovewillthaw-j · 4 years ago

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Frozen II/RBTI discussion (2/2)

Part 2 will discuss the differences, especially about the way the separation was dealt with.

I acknowledge that the subject of Elsa and Anna’s separation at the end of F2 is terribly divisive to our fandom and for those who know me, I walk the middle line and have dear friends on both sides of the divide and I respect everyone’s opinions. I wanna say up front that I LOVE F2 to bits, I came into this fandom after F2, I’m not an F2 hater, I also love F1 too, I love Elsa and Anna.

The differences

There are fundamental personality differences which should be stated up front - Vanellope: Extrovert; Ralph: Introvert. Elsa: Introvert; Anna: Extrovert. It’s interesting that in RBTI, the extrovert leaves but in F2, the introvert leaves. Thanks @super-mam-te-moc for pointing this out.

Obviously, these are two different movies. At its core, RBTI is a movie about friendship, and learning to accept that friendships can change and that it’s not a bad thing for friends to pursue different dreams. Frozen 2 is about Elsa’s destiny and source of her powers, the sins of her ancestors and righting a wrong. I’m going to court controversy here by saying that the separation in F2 is “by the way” and unexpected.

The handling of separation in RBTI

In RBTI, separation is hinted early on and the audience is gradually “prepared” for it. First and foremost, as I mentioned at the beginning, Vanellope is an extrovert and it is not unexpected that she would enjoy a place like Slaughter Race. She makes an early mention of this: “that feeling, that not-knowing-what's-coming-next feeling. That's the stuff. That feels like life to me.”

Vanellope hints at the separation when she says: “It’s true [that Ralph and her cannot exist without each other] In fact, it's so true that we will be fine if we're apart for a minute.” Also, in the song In This Place Called Slaughter Race, it is plainly obvious that V dreams of being in Slaughter Race and “her heart is in flight there” and also that “home is so slow”. The audience is also told by Shank that “There is no law saying best friends have to have the same dreams. You know?” and “All friendships change... but the good ones...they get stronger because of it”.

Vanellope is also shown to have moments of meaningful bonding with Shank and the crew. Her conversation with Shank during the “betrayal” scene is deep and she is shown to be taking advice from Shank. Also, there’s the scene where V plays basketball with the crew.

The actual moment of separation is well paced in RBTI. Just before they finally part, Ralph and Vanellope sit on a bench and have one last heart-to-heart chat. This is a direct parallel to the beginning of RBTI, where they are also sitting on a bench talking. The final hug between R and V has Vanellope (the one leaving) tearing up, showing that it’s hurting her too, to leave. And she tells Ralph that she loves him.

And after the separation, we see evidence that they’re all right and that the separation did not cause any detriment. Ralph has joined a book club and started a new thing where they all go hang out in someone’s game every Friday night. And, we see R and V talking via Buzzzface (convenient plot device again) and updating each other on their lives and talking about what they’re going to do when they meet again (eg V requests R to bring burgers for her)

The handling of separation in F2

Again, I know I’m courting controversy here. In my opinion, F2′s separation just doesn’t feel “earned”.

Firstly let me start with what we know from F1: Elsa is an introvert (please hear me out, I’m NOT saying introverts never want to leave), in Elsa’s situation it seems to me weird for her to be the one to leave. If I had to choose between the 2 sisters, I would say Anna is more likely to leave (NOT that I want her to!!) Secondly, she’s the queen and as others have pointed out, in 1800s European monarchs don’t just leave the throne.

Thirdly, they are sisters and not just friends. Sisters have a closer bond than friends. (hear me out, I’m not saying siblings must stay together forever, I’m stating this as a difference between F2 and RBTI, please please please read on) Fourthly, the time period is different, Elsa and Anna are not 21st century modern women. Royal siblings do not separate unless one marries into another country’s royal family.

Fifthly, they are NO ordinary sisters. They have gone through great tragedies - 13 years of isolation, one concealing her guilt and hiding away, out of love; the other completely bewildered why she is left alone, the parents’ death, the coronation tragedy, and Anna DIED for Elsa out of love - she willingly sacrificed herself to be hurt/killed by Hans, AND, Elsa accidentally killed Anna (but fate brought her back) - their stories are so intertwined with love for each other!

Continuing on to what we see in F2: there is little hint at the separation throughout the movie. Where did it come from? To me, after Anna broke the dam and Elsa revived, they should have all gone home...and recuperate (Anna spent a night wet and cold in a cave, Elsa died and came back, and fell into water back first, ouch) and figure out what to do with the Northuldra, the revelation of Runeard’s deed, check that all the Arendellians are okay etc...

In my opinion, Elsa is not shown to be having enough interaction with the Northuldra/Honeymaren to justify her staying there. (EM shippers, I respect your ship and I’m not anti to your ship) and what does she do in the forest??? As I have said in other posts - she’s been brought up in civilization her whole life; the Northuldra know the forest and the spirits better than her; what is there for her to do there??? that she can’t do from Arendelle? Why can’t Anna be the ambassador to Northuldra?

At the actual moment of separation in F2, everything is a blur. This is how I remembered my first watching: Elsa says something cryptic about “an oath to do what’s best for Arendelle” and “luckily I know just what that is”---they hug---Anna is Queen???!!!! What???---Elsa’s not there??---Elsa’s in the forest---Elsa’s galloping on Nokk towards Ahtohallan---BOOM the movie has ended. We do not see the sisters discussing about the separation. We do not see a teary hug and exchange of “I love you’s”. Yes there is a hug, but it takes place so fast (5 seconds, I counted).

After the separation, the scenes again are so rushed, we do not see much of what Elsa does in Ahtohallan/forest and in my opinion, the letter that Anna sends to Elsa is barely enough to explain how they are keeping in touch. I acknowledge that many have said that Nokk can travel at a supernaturally fast speed so Elsa can be back in Arendelle quickly. But, as others have also said, that also means Elsa could do whatever she has to do in the forest while staying as Queen of Arendelle, since Nokk can transport her there stat.

I think I might accept the separation a little better if it had been better dealt with like the way it was presented in RBTI, ie, preparing the audience for it, having a viable reason for the separation, having Elsa really integrating into the Northuldra/more screentime with HM (if Disney would support EM), having the sisters discuss and agree on the separation, devoting more screen time to the emotions regarding the separation to show the importance and gravity of their sisterly bond that they have, that is now undergoing a huge change, tears at the point of separation etc... Of course, the whole point of RBTI is separation, whereas the whole point of F2 is Elsa’s destiny and undoing what the ancestors did...why have separation at all in F2? Don’t we have enough to chew on already?

I want to conclude by reiterating that I’m not an F2 hater, I really really really love F2 (look at my blog!) and I’m NOT saying RBTI is a better movie than F2. (ironically, I actually don’t like RBTI very much despite the amount of detail I’ve gone into in these 2 posts, but I do love Ralph 1 a LOT) I am also respectful towards all and towards the directors Jenn and Chris.

If you disliked what you read in this post, I’m sorry, and I hope we can agree to disagree, as Vanellope told Ralph.

#frozen #frozen 2 #ralph breaks the internet #wreck it ralph #elsa #anna #ralph #vanellope von schweetz #disney frozen #disney

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kirksfattitties · 4 years ago

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asks you can smell the privilege and internalized ableism radiate from

(tw for ableism and other bigoted implications)

i’m bad at reading tone but even i understand that this is 100% you being condescending and trying to cover it up with smiley faces and false sincerity. and i don’t appreciate that.

before i get into deconstructing your shitty ableist argument, i want to explain the reasons i believe in self diagnosis (self-dx):

even professional diagnosis doesn’t start with a doctor diagnosing you. there has to be a reason for seeing the doctor. some people see a doctor in their adult life because they’re struggling, some people are taken by their parents, some people are referred or suggested that they see a specialist. whatever it is, you don’t just see a doctor and they magically give you a neurodivergency. people have neurodivergencies before they see doctors and even if they NEVER see a doctor.

the psychiatry system is flawed in MANY ways and to say that it isn’t means you’re denying the experiences of people with less privledge than yourself. also like psychiatry isn’t gonna suck your dick. you don’t have to be a bootlicker lol

in many places (hi hello i’m from america where our government tries to indirectly kill us by not providing us with adequate healthcare! i and many other people have many issues we can’t get fixed because simply our government cares more about the economy than us), seeing a psychiatrist or a therapist or going to a mental hospital or WHATEVER is INCREDIBLY expensive. and to assume that everyone has access and enough time/money/energy/transportation/whatever to do all of that is classist and elitist.

ANYTHING medical (including mental health) is biased towards white cis men. most studies are done on white cis men/boys. because of this, people who aren’t white cis men (or people who aren’t perceived as white cis men) are often not diagnosed. the system is racist. the system is sexist. the system is transphobic. people don’t know how to diagnose autism or adhd or personality disorders or other neurodivergencies or even mental illnesses in black people and other people of color, in women, in trans people, etc. and GOD FORBID someone be in multiple (or all) of those categories. saying “just go get diagnosed :)” is a privileged statement to make.

shocker! the psychiatry system is also ableist. if you’re already diasabled (whether it be mental or physical) and you see a doctor about ANOTHER disability? the doctor is most likely going to shoot you down. or at least be weary about someone having mutliple disabilities.

also most people who diagnose are neurotypical. they have never and will probably never experience neurodivergency so they can never fully understand it. they operate off of stereotypes of neurodivergent people and usually only stereotypical behavior of neurodivergent white cis men (which, as i mentioned before, is problematic for anyone who isn’t a white cis man). neurotypical diagnosers don’t know the neurodivergent culture and aren’t trained to recognize very common things (like masking for example).

a professional diagnosis can also be weaponized. not everyone can get a professional diagnosis because there are some neurodivergencies (such as autism and personality disorders) and mental illnesses (like depression) that can have legal and medical respercussions to have in your record. trans people can be denied medical and legal transition for being professionally diagnosed. people can lose custody battles for being professionally diagnosed. a professional diagnosis can be used as justification for taking away someone’s body autonomy (especially if that person is also physically disabled).

a LOT of neurodivergencies also have some type of symptom (or symptoms) that make it difficult to interact with people. troubles recognizing facial expressions, troubles understanding certain phrases and types of speech, paranoid about people, audio processing issues, being nonverbal in an environment that doesn’t accommodate for it, overstimulation, extreme social anxiety, discomfort in new situations, problems with eye contact, and a lot more. because like. for many nd people, interacting with people is very difficult and stressful. and hey. if you want to get a professional diagnosis? take a WILD guess what you have to do? FUCKING INTERACT with people! LIKE?? JEHDJJDKEKKDKDKDS. do you know how many professionally diagnosed nd people i know who made their appointment COMPLETELY on their own without help from a parent or family member or friend? LITERALLY ZERO! and i know A FEW nd people who have professional diagnoses! so if someone has social issues that prevent them from doing tasks like calling and making an appointment, showing up for an appointment, talking during the appointment, etc and ALSO doesn’t have familial or friend support (because newsflash! people who are friends/family of disabled people can still be ableist)? almost impossible to get a diagnosis! plus, the diagnosis process is TIME CONSUMING. not everyone can focus on a task for that long and not everyone can miss work/school for that long.

so those are the reasons i support self-dx. (although there’s probably more that i’m forgetting but i have adhd and it’s hard for me to remember things!)

so hopefully you now understand my reasons for believing in self-dx, and perhaps even you’re pro-self-dx now because before you were just uneducated on these issues and how they impact people who aren’t you.

but in case you’re still anti-self-dx and probably hate already-marginalized neurodivergent people, let’s talk about this horrendous ask (series of asks, actually) that i got sent. i feel like i can feel the self hatred and internalized ableism OOZING from this ask and into my inbox, so thanks for that i guess /s

“Sometimes people who self diagnose can take away from those who are actually nd, even sometimes from themselves.”

starting out strong with the ableism on this one by separating people into “self diagnosed” and “actually nd” people. self diagnosed people ARE actually nd

there’s not a limited number of nd resources. this isn’t a math equation of only x amount of people can be nd because there’s only y amount of resources. more people realizing they’re nd will actually MAKE more resources for nd people and will bring more awareness to being nd

even IF someone self diagnosed, and they go back on it later, what harm was done? they learned some coping mechanisms? they made some nd friends? neither of those are problematic and i think they’re both actually very helpful. i think nt people SHOULD learn more about nd people and stuff because i think that will lead to WAYYY less misunderstandings and WAYYYY less ableism

“There are many people who fake nds for attention,”

hey anon, what fucking world do you live in that nd’s are cool enough to fake having? because i would LOVE to live there. like, i literally had a post about my personality disorder (which i will not be specifying) i had to delete because people were sending my anons about how i was “scary” and “threatening” now that they knew i had the personality disorder i have. last year i left a discord server because the ableism i was recieving from not only the members of the server, but the mods as well. there are very few people i know irl who i tell about my personality disorder, but when i tell people about my adhd, they start treating me different. they infantalize me and make fun of me and use “jokes” about stereotypical adhd behaviors to alienate me and they even TELL OTHER PEOPLE without my permission. i was SEVERELY bullied throughout elementary and middle school for being nd. i have been refused job and educational opportunities as well as literal medical attention for being nd. people aren’t “faking” being nd, and if they were they probably wouldn’t be doing it for long because it’s not something that’s EASY to deal with.

kinda ironic that you’re saying people can’t diagnose themselves but that YOU can tell when someone is faking their diagnosis. that’s both hypocritical and a double standard.

masking exists. if you think someone isn’t “acting nd enough” they’re probably masking because they’ve been fucking bullied and harrassed. also you’re probably basing whatever you think nd is on stereotypes. not every nd person is sheldon cooper lol.

this is a side note but can we talk about how you’re literally just taking transmed rhetoric and molding it to fit nd people? like. you really come onto MY NONBINARY NEURODIVERGENT blog and expect me to validate your recycled “but what about the REAL [insert group] people?” ??? like grow up, elitist. you’re not better than anyone else just because you lick some boots 🥾 👅

“and claiming that self diagnosis (and this is just what I interpreted) is just as valid as professional diagnosis”

it is 😌

the only difference between self diagnosis and professional diagnosis is that a professional diagnosis can also get you medicine. not every neurodivergency needs meds and not every neurodivergency can be treated (at this time or even ever). for example, my pd (self diagnosed) doesn’t have a specific treatment but multiple symptoms of the pd (all professionally diagnosed) have specific treatments and medicines that work, so patients are given/diagnosed with/prescribed those instead. also, medicine doesn’t work for everyone! and sometimes people are allergic to or take medicines that will conflict with any new medicine.

“can really devalue the account of someone who actually has a disorder”

here we go again with that “self diagnosed” vs “actually nd” bullshit. literally just say you hate poor people n minorities and leave lol

someone having a different experience than you isn’t devaluing you, but if you’re the one who always has the spotlight maybe you should use your privledge uplift other marginalized people instead of feeling angry when everything isn’t all about you 100% of the time

“I have a second ask”

i don’t want it

“Plus it can be damaging for a person if they self diagnose wrong.”

how? what if they learn information that they wouldn’t’ve otherwise known like coping mechanisms that help them with their own neurodivergencies? that’s definitely not a bad thing

i think it’s funny that you bring up that people can self diagnose wrong and don’t even MENTION that doctors can diagnose wrong. like. you know. the people who GIVE OUT MEDICINE to people. i think it’s MUCH more dangerous when a PROFESSIONAL diagnosis is wrong. what are self-dx people with wrong diagnoses gonna do? read up on nd tips? maybe smoke some weed? drink some coffee? that’s about all they can do with a self-dx. but if a MEDICAL PROFESSIONAL gives you an INCORRECT diagnosis, they can ACTUALLY fuck you up.

“I was recently diagnosed with PTSD, a disorder which I would have never considered I’d have.”

that’s great about your professional diagnosis! i don’t know you but i’m glad you’re finding out about yourself and getting the help you want and/or need /srs

sorry if this sounds blunt, but honestly i’m not surprised you never considered you could have PTSD. based on your asks, you sound like you have a lot of internalized ableism you need to work through and a lot more research about neurodiversity you need to do. being anti-self diagnosis is a common belief among a lot of people with internalized ableism and a lot of these same people are the ones who have no issue with and even SUPPORT auti$m $peaks. many nd organizations that are run BY nd people (like asan) actually support self-dx.

“If I had of diagnosed my own symptoms and then started treating myself or taking precautions based on my self diagnosed "condition", it could of really hurt me.”

how? taking precautions to preserve your mental health is NEVER a bad idea. i’m not ptsd, but someone i care deeply about DOES have ptsd and has shared a lot of the precautions and coping mechanisms for ptsd with me and honestly they’ve been incredibly helpful. it’s almost as if different neurodivergencies and/or mental illnesses have overlap and that’s why there’s a whole community for us to be able to share these resources and information with each other!

the same person was rejected a formal autism diagnosis because of their ptsd, plus the fact that they’re transgender and the fact they have symptoms of adhd. it’s not really my place to talk about their experience with professional diagnosis, but i’ll send this post to them and allow them to add on their experience in a rb if they’re comfortable with that. but it’s almost as if their experience with the professional diagnosis process was unhelpful, harmful, ableist, and transphobic 🧐 and unfortunately this is a pretty common experience

“Also, by self diagnosing, I devalue the account of a person with the disorder l assumed I had.”

how? if someone thinks they’re nd, they have a legitimate reason for thinking so. either they have another neurodivergency than the one they thought they had, or they’re neurotypical and need to figure themself out and have a need for support. either way, they learned more about the specific neurodivergency, more about the nd community, and more about themself. i don’t see how that’s a bad thing.

if you think self-diagnosed people’s experiences inherently have less value, that is straight up ableism. especially considering that other marginalized identities and minorities have trouble getting professional diagnoses, you might also be bigoted in some other way. or at the very least, refusing to acknowledge your privilege.

“only one more I promise”

i don’t want it

“I understand that doctors are expensive and professionals can get it wrong,”

okay. if you understand this, then dm me your information so i can bill you for the cost of my professional diagnoses, the cost for my therapy sessions, the cost for my medicine, and the cost for transportation to and from all these places. PLUS the cost of the work and school i’ll be missing for these sessions. 🤲

“but self diagnosis can be really harmful to yourself or others.”

nah, you’re just ableist and a gatekeeper lol

“If you feel like you have a disorder, go see a psychiatrist, you may have it.”

[remembers when i went to a psychiatrist who diagnosed me with two major symptoms of a personality disorder and said i had other symptoms of the pd as well but refused to diagnose me with the actual personality disorder because i was a minor at the time and he told me “kids don’t have personalities so they can’t have personality disorders”. i understand being weary about diagnosing children with personality disorders because they aren’t fully developed but this dude straight up told me that i didn’t have a personality. this man literally only worked with children so that means he literally never diagnosed personality disorders. this man was literally just lazy and didn’t care about his patients. this man also refused to believe me when i told him the medicine he prescribed me made my symptoms worse and even made me hallucinate. he ignored me and refused to change my medicine so eventually i just changed psychiatrists and they put me on a new medicine that DIDNT make my symptoms worse and DIDNT make me hallucinate. also i looked it up after our session and apparently ONLY people with my pd and related ones experience hallucinations on that certain medication. it’s almost like his refusal to diagnose me and ignoring my symptoms/concerns harmed me. this man also constantly misgendered me and told me that homosexuality and transgenderism should’ve still been in the dsm. like golly, it’s almost as if being queer and neurodivergent in an extremely conservative state is harmful and dangerous. and that psychiatrists aren’t immune from being homophobic and transphobic and ableist.] but yes :) perhaps i should see another psychiatrist in this conservative state :)

“I don't want to undermine anyone's actual experiences, but it can be dangerous.”

then stop undermining people’s actual experiences :)

no ❤️

“If you feel like something's wrong, go see a professional.”

the whole point of the neurodiversity movement is that there IS no such thing as a “normal” brain, so saying that neurodivergent people have something “wrong” with them is ableist.

💰 🤲 hand it over

“I don't want to offend, I just don't want anyone to get mislead or hurt. :)”

you absolutely meant to offend. you literally said that self-diagnosed people’s experiences aren’t valid and have less value than people who have professional diagnoses

i know more people who have been (and personally have been) mislead and hurt by professionals than by simply existing as a self-diagnosed person

also i want to say that being pro-self dx is NOT being anti-professional/formal diagnosis. i think that people should absolutely get a professional diagnosis (if they are able to without negative repercussions)! being pro-self dx is more inclusive of marginalized people (like people of color, women, lgbtq+ people, people with multiple disabilities, etc). pro-self dx is simply just saying that professional diagnosis isn’t the only option

(neurotypical people and anti-self dx people don’t add anything; pro-self dx neurodivergent people are allowed to add with their experiences if they want)

#asks #long post #nd adventures #ableism tw #sexism tw #racism tw #transphobia tw #misgendering mention #medical abuse mention #not star trek #homophobia tw

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starrywhump · 4 years ago

Note

Could you continue the story about hero and villain being captured by the anti super power organization? I really enjoyed and i want more of it

I was actually about to post this story when I got this ask, so perfect timing! I hope y’all enjoy this next part. It is a bit long and it’s late so I’m not proofreading super well so I apologize for any typos. Thanks for reading!

TW: Drugging

Part 1

“Unit 13, log it as a class B, regular holding will be sufficient,”

“What are you talking about!?” The Hero yelled at the man beside them.

They were restrained on a cold metal table, strapped down with leather at their ankles, wrists, chest, and neck. Various people in lab coats milled around the room around them, ignoring them completely. It was infuriating, even the Villain talked back to them.

The man next to them seemed to be in charge, they calmly spoke orders to the others.

“Take a blood sample to be sure, we don’t want any surprises,” the man in charge called across the room.

The Hero couldn’t move their head more than a few inches, so they could only see the people right next to them. They felt much too vulnerable locked down without any use of their powers.

If this was a normal situation the Hero would just break out of the ties around them, but there was something in the air that made the Hero feel weak. It was like someone had put gauze between the Hero and their powers. They were still there, they could see them faintly, but they couldn’t get to them.

The Hero’s powers weren’t something that was always with them, but it was always there for them to access. It was a part of them but now it was blocked off. The Hero wasn’t helpless without them, they still knew how to fight. But that added strength was something they couldn’t count on anymore.

Usually, when they used their powers their regular abilities became enhanced, they were stronger, faster, more agile. If they really focused they could harden their skin, creating their very own armor.

They were almost unstoppable until they met the Villain no one had been a match for them. Now this place easily neutralized them. It was unnerving.

Footsteps by the Hero’s left side broke them out of their thoughts. A woman stood over them with a needle, attached with tubing to a small vial.

“Hey! Get away from me!” The Hero jerked in their binds.

“Sedate it for transport once you’re done with that,” the man in charge didn’t even look up, they were focused on writing something on the clipboard they held.

“Will do,” the woman nodded. She pinched up the skin on the Hero’s inner elbow, inserting the needle.

The Hero paused their struggling as they watched the vial fill up with their blood. The woman pulled the vial from the tube, securing the lid and handing it over to the Hero the man on the other side. She then pulled the needle out of the Hero’s arm, placing a bandaid there to stop any bleeding.

It was all very confusing. They hadn’t done anything to hurt them, not since the guards had shocked them to get them out of their cell. No one had talked to them, or even looked them in the eye, it was like they were some inanimate object to be observed.

The woman was looming over him again, this time holding a syringe filled with a white liquid.

“Hey! Stop! What is that? Get away from me! Didn’t you hear me I said GET AWAY!” The Hero yelled as the woman pushed their head to the side, injecting whatever was in the syringe into their neck.

“What was that! Hey, listen to me what was that!” The Hero yelled as the woman removed the syringe.

“Ok, you can move it back to holding,” with that the man walked out, followed shortly after by the woman.

The Hero felt a wave of cold, numbness sweep through them.

The guards from before appeared at the Hero’s sides, they began to undo their restraints.

As soon as their wrist was free the Hero tried to punch up at the nearest guard. All they could do was move it about an inch off the table before it fell back down.

The guards looked at each other and laughed.

The Hero’s brain felt like putty, unable to fully understand what was going on.

An overwhelming sense of fear overtook them. They suddenly missed the cold indifference of the lab coats. It was better than the cruel hunger that shone in the eyes of the guards above them.

The Hero was pulled up off the table, and set on their feet. They blinked sluggishly, the room spun around them.

Invasive hands held them up and began to push them forward.

“Stop-” the Hero slurred.

The guards ignored them.

The Hero’s eyes fluttered open and closed. Time seemed to jump forward every time they blinked.

It felt like no time had passed before one of the guards was unlocking the bar door to their cell.

The Hero was shoved unceremoniously into their cell, they stumbled and tripped over their own feet, falling to the ground.

They tried to get their hands under them, to push back up to a standing, or at least sitting position. Before they could a kick from one of the guards stomped down on their back. They laughed as the Hero’s face slammed into the concrete floor.

********

The Villain closed their eyes, silently thinking, plotting. Since they first got here they never yelled or screamed, they simply sat and thought, waiting for the right moment or opportunity to escape and kill everyone in this godforsaken place.

It was a bit hard to think when you have to listen to two idiots beating the shit out of your nemesis next door. While they were gone it had been a few hours of blissful peace, but as soon as the Hero was dragged back into their cell that was over.

From the way they had walked in the Villain could tell the Hero had been drugged, they were being too complacent not to be.

If the Hero had just been left to lay quietly in a drug-induced stupa everything would have been fine.

But of course, the assholes who run this place wouldn’t be happy with just kidnapping and drugging people.

They had to have their fun messing with the powerful beings rendered powerless. It probably was an ego thing, these grunt workers, clearly lower in the chain of command than the scientists around here, would get a rush from beating up Heros.

“Get ‘ff...me,” a slurred complaint from the Hero next door distracted the Villain momentarily.

The Villain couldn’t see what was going on due to a concrete wall between their cells. But they could clearly hear fists connecting with a body. Occasionally this was followed by the Hero’s pitiful attempts to fight back, usually entailing a threat spoken in a weak voice, almost too quiet to hear. It didn’t exactly inspire fear.

“ st-” the Hero cut themselves off with a groan of pain.

The Villain rolled their eyes, this was getting really boring. They rolled off their cot and walked over to the front of their cell. They grabbed the bars as looked over to the Hero’s cell, they could only see a small sliver of it.

“Are you quite finished in there?” The Villain spoke loud enough to be heard in the Hero’s cell.

The sounds of the fighting stopped.

“Why do you care?” One of the guards exited the Hero’s cell to stand outside the bars of the Villain’s.

“Because it's loud. It’s getting on my nerves.��

“And why would I care about what you want?” The guard sneered.

“I don’t care what you care about. Just try to finish proving your machoness by beating up someone who can’t fight back, and go away so I can have some peace,” The Villain deadpanned, gazing at the guard with a bored look.

The guard reddened, whether with anger or embarrassment it was unclear.

They reached through the bars grabbing the Villain’s shirt and jerked them forward against the bars, “You think you’re so fucking funny!”

The Villain’s expression didn’t change, they left their hands hanging limply at their sides. Their lack of a reaction seemed to only make the guard angrier.

“Well if it’s such a problem for you, you can deal with it,” the guard growled.

They released the Villain, moving to unlock their cell. Before the Villain could make a move the guard grabbed the Villain by their shirt, pulling them out into the hall.

The Villain scowled, trying to stay upright as the guard moved and shoved them into the Hero’s cell.

Looking down they saw the Hero laying on their side. There was a small puddle of blood next to their face, coming from their nose and a few cuts littered around their face. They had their arms up around their head, hands on the back of their neck, trying to shield themselves.

The Villain turned back to the guard in the hall, “what do you expect me to do with that?” they gestured at the Hero, “I mean I would be happy to kill them for you but do you really need my help to do that?” The Villain leaned back against the wall, crossing their arms.

“Clean them up,” The guard in the hall motioned to his partner. The partner walked out of the cell using keys to open a solid gray door between all the bars. They brought out a bucket, bringing it to the Hero’s cell and dropping it inside.

Water sloshed out onto the floor. Next to the bucket, the guard dropped a few rags.

“Boss doesn’t like blood.”

The Vilain looked down at the bucket and laughed, “Yeah, no. Sorry, I’m not a nurse. You made the mess clean it up yourself.”

The guard ignored them, sliding the bar door into place, “Clean them and the floors. If when I get back it’s not clean, I will kill you. And don’t kill them, boss doesn’t like it when the new ones die, if they end up dead so are you.”

With that the guards walked away, leaving the Villain alone with the Hero.

The Villain rolled their eyes.

Fucking hell.

“Get up,” the Villain stayed where they were against the wall, yelling over to the Hero.

The Hero didn’t move.

The Villain pushed off the wall, trudging reluctantly to the Hero’s side. There was no fun in being around the Hero if they couldn’t try to kill them.

The Villain nudged the Hero’s leg with their foot.

They curled in on themselves more, pulling their arms around their head.

“Move, I need to clean underneath you,” The Villain spoke in an annoyed monotone.

“If... ‘f your gon-gonna kill me... get on ‘th it,” The Hero’s speech was slurred and broken. Whatever drugs they were on weren’t enough to completely knock them out, but they were very close.

“I really wish I could. Really I do, but killing you will have to wait. Now move or I’m going to kick you,”

The Hero looked confused.

They weren’t the brightest in the first place but these drugs make them idiotic.

The Villain rolled their eyes for the umpteenth time.

“Well, I told you,” the Villain aimed a kick at the Hero’s side. It was a relatively soft blow, but the Hero yelped loudly.

“Move. I don’t wanna get my hands dirty dragging you, you’re all bloody.”

The Hero pushed their hands against the floor, trying to pick themselves up off the ground. They got a few inches off the ground before one of their arms gave out. The other slipped on the blood-slick concrete. The Hero fell on their face, groaning in pain.

“Jesus Christ fine,” the Villain stepped over the Hero, moving above their head to grab their under their arms. The Hero jumped at their touch but didn’t have the strength to fight them, even if they wanted to.

The Villain dragged the Hero over to the wall, resting them against it.

A pool of blood had collected beside the Hero from their nose. The Villain took one of the rags and began to sop up the puddle.

They glanced back over to the Hero, “Stop bleeding so much, I don’t want another puddle to clean up.”

The Villain chucked the blood-soaked rag next to the bucket. There wasn’t that much blood on the ground, and it cleaned up pretty easily. What the Villain didn’t want to do was clean up their drugged up nemesis over there, but they didn’t want to die more, so they grabbed another rag. They dipped the rag in the water, ringing it out before moving over to the Hero.

There wasn’t too much blood on the Hero’s shirt, most of it had run onto the floor.

The Villain ran the cloth over the Hero’s chin, stopping the latest wave of red from dripping down onto their chest.

The Hero looked... afraid. An emotion the Villain hadn’t seen on the Hero before. At least not naturally.

Perhaps the drugs stripped away the Hero’s ability to hide their true feelings, or maybe the vulnerability of their current state was getting to them.

The Villain’s mouth twitched with a small smile. The Hero would have never let the Villain get this close usually, because they knew what the Villain could do when they got close to someone.

Not in this place, where their powers were blocked, but out in the real world, the Villain could inflict pain with just a touch.

It worked from far away on the weaker-minded part of the population, but up close, touching, it was easy for the Villain’s power to cause its victim immense pain.

Depending on what the Villain wanted and how hard they were focusing they could make the Hero relive their most painful memories, access their deepest insecurities and worries, or they could simply light every nerve in the Hero’s body up with pain.

The Hero must logically know that the Villain can’t do that here, but the memory must still be scaring them.

The Hero had never been vulnerable before they met the Villain. No one had been able to stand a chance against them with their enhanced abilities.

But the Villain didn’t fight physically, or at least they didn’t need to. The Villain was actually quite skilled at martial arts but often used their powers instead to destroy their opponent without lifting a finger.

“Scared?” The Villain smirked, keeping their hand on the Hero’s chin.

The Hero blinked for a moment before they seemed to register the question.

“no..’m not,” the Hero slurred, tripping over their words. They sluggishly moved their arms up to push at the Villain’s hand holding their face.

“No, no, leave it. Wouldn’t want me to slip and...” the Villain pushed on the Hero’s broken nose, eliciting a curse from the Hero.

“I can’t kill you but there is a large space between not killing you and treating you nicely. If I were you I wouldn’t give me a reason to explore that space,” The Villain released the Hero’s chin with a jerk to the side.

The Hero looked at the Villain, most likely tried to glare at them, but their face was puffy from bruises and their eyes were unfocused from the sedative, so it didn’t have the intended threatening air.

The Villain pushed their hand into the Hero’s hair, it was ruffled from the guards' onslaught. Also damp, with blood or sweat the Villain didn’t know. They gripped the Hero’s hair to push their head back against the wall. With the other hand, they wiped at the blood on the Hero’s face.

Their nose was bleeding heavily, but small streams of blood also trickled from the cuts on their left eyebrow and the middle of their forehead.

The Hero breathed heavily, their eyes were shifted between a glassy confused look and one of anger and fear. They were clearly fighting hard against what the guards had given them, but it didn’t seem to be doing much. They could barely move their limbs, the Villain would have loved this back on the outside. It seemed a waste to only be able to experience it here.

“Alright,” the Villain moved the rag off the Hero’s face, “all done,” They dropped the rag and returned their hand to the Hero’s cheek.

The Hero flinched.

The Villain traversed the Hero’s face with their hand. Inspecting their enemy at such in such close quarters was fascinating.

The two stared at each other. Silently trying to figure out how their relationship would operate in this new situation.

The Villain finally pulled away, giving the Hero’s hair a playful tug before they released their grip.

The Hero breathed a sigh of relief as the Villain stepped away.

The Villain walked to the other side of the Hero’s cell and sat down opposite them. They watched as the Hero slowly succumbed to the drugs, falling to their side. The Hero’s breathing deepened and evened out signifying they had fallen unconscious.

Still, the Villain watched.

#whump #villain/hero #hero whump #superhero whump #experiment whump #medical whump #drugging #tw: drugging #pain #beating #manhandling #blood #reluctant caretaker #creepiness #asks answered

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carewyncromwell · 4 years ago

Photo

Cinderelly, Cinderelly, night and day, it’s Cinderelly~... ^.^ Okay..before I jump into the next part of the Cinderella AU, here’s your usual appetizer of random historical/etc. notes!

Although carriages were developed centuries earlier, actual coaches like the kind we think of from Cinderella stories were first developed in the late 16th century in Hungary, specifically a little town called Kocs. (The word “coach” and its alternatives in other languages, such as the German Kutsche and the Spanish and Portuguese coche, are thought to have been derived from the Hungarian kocsi, meaning “of Kocs.”) They then really caught on in the rest of Europe after Queen Elizabeth I of England started using them in the 1580s. The terms “coach” and “carriage” are often used interchangeably, but if one wanted to pin-point the advancements coaches specifically made in contrast to carriages of the past, there are a few differences one can pick out in how they’re built. Coaches generally are four-wheeled enclosed vehicles with doors and/or windows (glass was added in later centuries), and often include a “boot” seat on the outside for a footman and/or luggage to sit on. Coaches also generally have a reputation for providing a smoother ride than previous modes of transport because they’re suspended between the wheels rather than directly over or beside them. After the invention of the coach, one can find carriages (royal ones, in particular) adopting some of these same attributes.

Sadly wheelchairs really weren’t a thing in the 16th century. The first self-propelled wheeled chairs were developed in the mid-17th century and refined in the 18th, with sedan chairs or litters (A.K.A. chairs you carried) generally being used by the nobility prior to that. But there’s no way in Hell I’m not going to give McNully the independence he deserves, so I used a completely anachronistic design inspired by this antique wheelchair I found online, made circa around the 1840′s. Hey, this is a fantasy world anyway, so bleh. :P The flower detailing on the wheel is supposed to evoke an emblem I see being on Florence’s green and gold coat of arms (get it? “Florence?” “Flora?”). You might also notice that McNully has little Snitch-like “wing” frills on each of his buttons! XD

Another fun thing I learned while doing research -- although cloaks were often worn for warmth during the medieval period and beyond, in England during the Elizabethan era, their use was actually actively discouraged and even prohibited, as they were associated with criminals and rebels! Therefore it was common for a lot of English noblemen and women to wear thicker clothing made of wool and accessories like muffs, gloves, and even jackets for warmth instead. I tried very, very hard to find historically accurate examples of period-worthy jackets and capes for women around the time of the Renaissance, and was very frustrated to find a lot of fantasy-esque costume pieces or historical clothing from later eras that were simply mislabeled -- but I did find one lovely recreation of a 16th century wool jacket, so that’s what I used as reference for Carewyn’s jacket in this sketch, though I personally imagine it as a dark red, so as to better blend with her burnt orange and beige servant’s uniform. Bill’s uniform is based off a real castle guard uniform from early 16th century France, though with a much simpler color palette (I see Royaume’s colors being blue and red). Like with McNully’s chair, there’s a crown on the chest of Bill’s uniform, which I see being on Royaume’s coat of arms (“royaume” is literally French for “kingdom”).

In her canon, Carewyn was born when Jacob was nine years old. Although in most of Carewyn and Jacob’s canon post-Portrait-Vault, they end up being only two years apart in age, that’s only because Jacob stopped aging while trapped in a Portrait for seven years. From Carewyn’s fifth year on, Jacob and Carewyn in canon therefore act much more like contemporaries, even though Jacob actually kind of ended up partially raising Carewyn alongside their mother Lane.

Previous part is here – whole tag is here – Katriona “KC” Cassiopeia belongs to @kc-needs-coffee and I hope you all enjoy! xoxo

x~x~x~x

Every day over the next week, Carewyn met Orion at the gate of the palace of Royaume, and the two would spend an hour or so together. Orion would ask her about life at the palace, Carewyn would playfully respond, and sooner or later, they’d end up getting diverted and talking about something else completely, whether the upcoming Winter Festival, the language of flowers, art, poetry, the meaning of life, music, fencing, or (after seeing a rather beautiful eagle flying overhead) what it might be like to fly. Carewyn honestly wasn’t entirely sure what Orion got out of their meetings besides entertainment, and naturally she couldn’t afford to indulge in such entertainment too long, when she had so much work to do around the castle and she still had to find out where Jacob was positioned. But she had to admit, with the King and Queen having invited Iris over to stay in one of the guest suites at the palace for the remainder of the month, Carewyn didn’t mind having an excuse to stay far away from her cousin. Lately Carewyn had actively planned her days so that she could clean the guest suites at teatime, when Iris would be in one of the foyers with the King, Queen, and Prince on the opposite side of the palace. She did not want a repeat of the other day, after all...particularly since she’d also need time to change out of the nicer, collared dresses she’d wear when spending time with Orion.

Orion, meanwhile, was of course getting a bit more than entertainment out of his and Carewyn’s meetings. Through speaking with Carewyn, he’d sussed out some very helpful information about Royaumanian culture, the dynamics within Royaume’s royal family, and both their and their country’s financial state. One day he told his closest confidantes at court, Skye and McNully, some of what he’d learned...but Skye didn’t react quite as favorably as Orion had expected.

“...I gave Lady Cromwell a copy of the sheet music for ‘No One is Alone’ last week -- you remember the song, of course? And from what I understand, Prince Henri and the castle staff have quite taken to it. Not that I’m surprised -- Carewyn has a very soothing voice. I’m sure she performed it very well. But the Prince listening to the words at all is a good sign -- I even asked Carewyn if the Prince enjoyed them, and she said she believed so. She also found their message meaningful...one of Florence’s best-loved anti-War songs, and one about looking through another’s eyes and forgiving past grievances, no less! That can only be a good sign, for Royaumanians to take heart in it. It surely must have been fate that Lady Cromwell and I collided at the market -- I had a feeling we were kindred spirits, when she came to my aid, but now I am most assured of it. I might hazard a guess that she wishes for peace just as much as I -- for the sake of her brother fighting in the field, yes, but also selflessly for the sake of others, not wishing to see any other person in pain...”

“She sounds like a perfect knight in shining armor,” said Skye, her voice oddly cutting.

Orion looked up at Skye, startled by her tone. Her arms were crossed over the chest of her faded blue linen dress.

“Anything else you want to tell us about the fair Lady Cromwell,” she said rather icily, “or are you actually ready to talk about how you plan to end this War?”

Orion blinked slowly. “...I thought that we were already discussing that.”

“Really?” scoffed Skye. “‘Cause it sounds to me like you were busy gushing over your new conquest.”

“Conquest?” Orion repeated. His confused tone then melted into something more soothing and indulgent, “Oh -- no, Skye...you misunderstand me. I have no interest in courting Carewyn -- she’s just my contact point, with the palace.”

Skye gave a very loud, disbelieving snort. “Ha! Right, of course she is -- that’s why you can’t stop gushing about ‘Carewyn this’ and ‘Lady Cromwell that.’”

“Skye has a point, Orion,” said McNully, though his voice was a lot less confrontational. If anything he sounded almost sheepish. “I mean, about 85% of your report was about Lady Cromwell. You used her name over ten times just in the span of a minute.”

Amazingly Orion’s calm, hard-to-read expression didn’t crack. His hands clasped lightly in front of him.

“Lady Cromwell plays an essential part in this strategy. I’m an outsider looking in, without her insight -- a ship sailing blindly, without the light from a lighthouse to give me direction.”

“A lighthouse for a lost ship -- oh yeah, those sound like the words of someone who’s focusing on winning a war and not swooning over a pretty face,” said Skye scathingly. “Maybe instead of always running off and playing dress-up, you could actually bother to do your duty and go help fight on the battlefield for once!”

Orion’s lips came together tightly, but it didn’t make his expression any less composed. McNully shot Skye an uncomfortable, faintly disapproving look.

“Easy, Skye,” he murmured. “You know Orion -- ”

But Skye didn’t seem to hear McNully. Instead she tore into Orion.

“Face it, Orion -- you just like being treated like a commoner again and being able to make believe that you don’t have any responsibilities or worries...well, guess what? You’re not a commoner anymore! You’re the Prince of Florence -- you reckon little Miss Knight-in-Shining-Armor would take kindly to that, when she finds out?”

Orion’s dark eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly upon Skye’s face.

“Carewyn’s not an unreasonable woman,” he said softly. “I’m certain she would understand the reason behind my secrecy.”

This, if anything, only seemed to make Skye madder.

“Of course she would,” she muttered sourly. “Little Lady Royaume can do no wrong in your eyes, can she?”

She turned on her heel and stormed out, leaving Orion feeling very resigned and confused. McNully gave a heavy sigh, before facing Orion with a more serious expression.

“She’s overreacting, as usual,” he said, “but she’s still 60% right. It’s risky enough for you to get this close to anyone right now, when your position as Crown Prince is threatened by the likes of Lord Malfoy. He’d frankly love to have something like that over you. But someone from Royaume? The granddaughter of one of the most powerful, wealthy, and feared noblemen in their country? Orion, that’s dangerous.”

Orion leaned his hands on the table, looking down at the map of Florence and Royaume laid out on top of it.

“McNully, I assure you...my objective has not changed,” he said very levelly. “Everything I have done is for Florence -- for peace and balance. I admit, Lady Cromwell is a fascinating woman, and certainly one to be admired...but I spend time with her to gather intelligence I can obtain nowhere else. That is all.”

McNully looked doubtful, but didn’t directly address it. Instead he said, “I understand she’s your eyes and ears inside the palace, and the intelligence you’re getting is valuable...but don’t forget, she isn’t on your team. She’s on Royaume’s. And right now, Royaume is kicking our tail out there, on the battlefield.”

Orion’s dark eyes drifted away from the table as McNully leaned his arms on the table himself.

“It’s getting bad again,” he murmured very seriously. “I know you said the palace of Royaume’s strapped for funds, but somehow or another, they’ve scrounged up enough to get more cannons, and their troops have been moving them around every couple of hours so that our men never know where they’re going to be firing from next. It’s been very effective. Whoever’s been giving Royaume’s King and Queen military strategy lately, they’re a bloody genius.”

McNully clearly was irritated about this, given the flash that shot through his narrowed eyes.

“Your father sent me a request for a counter-strategy this morning. You know it’s likely if the strategy isn’t one he can execute on his own, he may ask both you and me to join him there, on the front lines.”

Orion did not respond. His expression was as unreadable as ever, but there was something oddly detached and avoidant in his posture.

“I know you don’t want that, and you know I have faith in you,” said McNully, “but your strategy is a slow burn, Orion. It requires both patience and time...and we might not end up having as much of those as you think.”

Once again, Orion chose not to answer. McNully sighed again.

“You know I’ll be right behind you in a coach, if you need me,” he said tiredly. “Just...mind that you use your head as well as your heart, all right?”

Orion threw on his black traveling cloak and headed back to Royaume not long after, hoping to meet up with Carewyn for an evening stroll. There was a notable chill in the air -- if it got much colder, he thought that any rain might instead come down as sleet or maybe even snow.

When Orion arrived at the gate, however, he was met not by Carewyn, but by KC. She was dressed in a high-necked gown made of black velvet and holding a leather-bound book and a stack of parchment in her arms.

Orion tilted his head slightly to glance at the piece of parchment on the top of the stack, which had several “X’s” scattered over an oddly familiar map.

“Plans to bury some pirate treasure?” he asked pleasantly.

KC gave a lightly amused snort. “No, just military plans.”

Her lightly freckled face then grew a bit more serious. “I guess you’re here for Carewyn?”

Orion had been ready to ask more about the military plans KC was holding, but decided not to circle back to it when she changed the subject.

“Yes. Has she been detained?”

“I guess so...” said KC. Her lips twisted into a concerned frown as she looked out at the darkening sky.

Orion’s eyebrows knit together over his eyes slightly. “You seem concerned.”

KC bit her lip. “Mm...it’s just...well, you see, one of the royal carriages broke down earlier today, when the Queen was riding through the country with Lady Yaxley.”

Orion raised his eyebrows. “Lady Iris Yaxley, do you mean? Carewyn’s cousin?”

“Yes. No one was badly hurt, fortunately, but the Queen, Lady Iris, and the coachman and footman were forced to ride the horses back and leave the carriage behind. When they got back, they asked the royal carpenter, Charlie Weasley, to go fix it. Charlie said that he probably wouldn’t have the proper tools to fix it here at the castle, so Carewyn offered to ride out with him, so that their horses could drag the coach together to the Weasley family cottage, about forty minutes away. The problem is,” she said with a deepening frown, “they left over two hours ago, and they’re still not back yet. Bill headed out after them on his own horse not long before you got here...he’s Charlie’s brother, so he knows the route they would’ve taken...”

Orion’s dark eyes had narrowed significantly.

“Which road did Sir Weasley take after them?” he asked, his calm voice nonetheless touched with the faintest edge.

KC pointed. “Northwest -- toward the mountains.”

Orion nodded. “Thank you.”

And with this, he turned on his heel and rushed back toward where he thought he might find McNully’s coach. He needed to borrow a horse.

Setting one of the black horses free of the black coach, Orion rode off toward the mountains, his slightly-too-long dark hair flapping freely behind him. The road was well-marked, but it soon veered off into dense woods as it migrated up toward the mountains. Orion had never gone so far west into Royaume before, let alone far from Florence before. Despite himself, he had to acknowledge the beauty of the landscape. The views of the castle below were breathtaking -- it looked as tiny as a toy, and yet the infinite glass windows made it sparkle like some diamond-like beacon in the darkening sky. He wondered if his own palace in Florence looked so beautiful to others, at a distance. As much as he himself hadn’t been raised a prince, it was difficult for him to look at his own palace as anything other than a cage.

As he went further uphill and the sky darkened, it also grew colder. Orion was starting to see his own breath on the air. He thought of Carewyn alone in the cold, perhaps hurt, and had to take several deep breaths to sooth his nerves. He was never in a right state, when he let his thoughts run too wild or his fears chatter too loudly.

Finally Orion caught sight of two familiar ginger-headed men, standing by an overturned coach, covered in mud and missing one of its back wheels. One of the men was the tall, freckled castle guard from the other day who Carewyn called Bill, dressed in his high-collared blue and red patterned uniform tunic and matching white feathered, blue-velvet hat -- the other was much stockier, but no less freckled, dressed in a burgundy-colored tunic and loose brown pants and boots, and he wore his ginger hair in a ponytail not unlike Orion’s when he was at court. When Orion approached them, Bill immediately reacted with suspicion -- Orion explained what KC had told him and asked where Carewyn was, and was incredibly startled to hear her voice coming from over the edge of the cliff.

“I’m down here!”

Orion couldn’t help but feel a flash of concern. He raced over as if to look over the edge, but Charlie lashed out an arm in front of the taller man to stop him.

“Uh, I wouldn’t look over if I were you, mate,” he said, having trouble biting back his laughter despite himself.

He pointed at the broken carriage. Hanging over one of the doors was what looked like the burnt orange and beige skirt of a dress and several wool petticoats.

Orion blinked a few times in great surprise, his tanned cheeks darkening with a faint blush. Bill, however, reacted with anxiety.

“Carewyn!” he shouted over the ravine. “Are you in your underwear down there!?”

“Ugh -- well, I couldn’t very well climb down into this briar patch and wrench this wheel loose in my dress, could I?” Carewyn called back up rather haughtily. “At least my bloomers are slightly akin to the sorts of trousers you all wear.”

“You’ll catch a death of cold out here!” said Bill.

“I’m all right,” Carewyn reassured him. “Ulk -- ugh -- I have the wool jacket Andre made for me on...”

Charlie took a step forward, his eyes moved up toward the darkening sky pointedly so as not to look over the edge as he called down,

“Bill’s right, though, Carewyn -- it’s getting colder by the minute...and it’s getting dark too. Are you sure you can lift that thing up and over all by yourself?”

“Ugh...I admit, it’s a bit difficult!” she called back. “But I think I can manage.”

Recalling Carewyn’s blatant refusal of help in retrieving her horse, Orion -- still fighting back a slight blush -- called over the ravine himself.

“We do not question your capabilities, Carewyn,” he said patiently, “but would you like our help?”

“Ugh -- don’t be silly,” said Carewyn, sounding faintly haughty. “You, Charlie, and Bill would break your necks, climbing down here. And I’m still in my undergarments -- I have no interest in anyone seeing me prance around without proper clothes on, thank you.”

“It’s no use,” Charlie muttered under his breath, “I’ve tried to offer her help for the last hour, but she keeps putting me off, saying she’s fine. I don’t get why she feels like she has to do everything by herself...”

“Probably because she’s always had to, Charlie,” said Bill quietly. His voice betrayed a lot of sympathy and sadness as he exhaled through his nose.

Orion’s black eyes deepened with some compassion for Bill as he called back over the ravine to Carewyn,

“Your points are well made, my lady...but we’d still like to help you.”

“Ugh -- you can help me by leaving me my dignity and not looking over while I’m only half-dressed...ack...”

“Would you accept us doing more than that?”

“Urgh -- I am...sorry to have made you and Bill come out all this way -- but I’m all right, really.”

Bill glanced at Orion out the side of his eye, and then back at the cliff. Despite his distrust of the man, the eldest Weasley was sort of glad he wasn’t the only one who disliked how reticent Carewyn was to accept help.

“You don’t need to apologize,” he said earnestly. “I was -- we were worried about you, Carewyn. You and Charlie.”

He and Orion glanced at each other. Bill wished the other man’s expression wasn’t so hard to read. The castle guard tried to twist his uncomfortable frown into a smile that Carewyn would hopefully be able to hear over the edge of the cliff.

“Come on...let’s get you and that wheel up and over so you can get back into your dress.”

There was a silence. Then Carewyn said a bit more quietly,

“...You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Wha -- oh, come off it, Carewyn!” said Charlie exasperatedly. “To hell we do! You think I was mucking about, calling you my pal and saying I needed to figure out a nickname for you? Now let us help you, or I’ll consider making that nickname an irritating one!”

There was another silence. Then Carewyn sighed very loudly and tiredly, and Orion couldn’t help but grin, because he could tell she’d finally given in.

“Oh, all right,” she said begrudgingly. “But I don’t really know how you’re going to help, when you can’t look at me.”

Orion closed his eyes.

“Describe your surroundings, Carewyn,” he said. “Paint a picture for me, with your words.”

“...Well, I’ve gotten the wheel out of the briar patch. I’m trying to roll it back up, but it’s as large as me, and the downward slope and the ice is making it difficult. Plus the wheel isn’t in great shape -- all of its spokes are broken, so there isn’t much for me to push up on, while rolling it uphill.”

“I would’ve told her to just forget it, but it’d be much easier for me to carve a new wheel if I have framework from the old one,” Charlie explained. “I’m already going to have to make the new spokes and hubcap completely out of wood instead of using any gold or metalwork, but it’s still going to take a lot of time...even more so if the old wheel framework can’t be saved...”

Orion considered the matter, visualizing the set-up down below on the inside of his eyelids. “...What’s left of the wheel...is it made of metal or wood?”

“Wood...but there seems to be some sort of metal lining around the rim, held on by nails.”

“That’d be for durability, I reckon,” said Charlie. “Wood alone would get chaffed badly on the ground, moving in a constant circle down cobblestones or over anything rocky.”

Orion opened his eyes and looked over the broken coach. His gaze lingered on the thick leather straps coming off of the front that no doubt would’ve attached it to their horses. Then he abruptly got up, rushing over to undo the straps from the carriage.

“What are you doing?” said Bill, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

Orion quickly knotted the long, thick leather straps together with several complex-looking and strong knots.

“Carewyn,” he called over very calmly, “I’m going to lower this down to you -- use the buckle and loop it securely around the inside rim of the wheel, so that it’s tight. Give it a light tug when it’s secure.”

He blindly tossed one end of the rope made out of leather straps over the edge of the cliff. After a minute, he felt a light tug at the end.

“Gentlemen,” Orion murmured to the Weasleys, “I’ll need you to hold this, for just a moment. Carewyn,” he added, as Charlie and Bill both grabbed the end of the makeshift rope and he let go, “I’m going to need you to step onto the wheel yourself and hold on.”

“What?” said Carewyn. “Orion, you can’t lift both me and the wheel -- it’s far too much! I’ll climb up and out myself -- ”

“Not to worry, my lady -- none of us will be doing the lifting,” said Orion serenely.

He led both his black horse and Bill’s chestnut horse over by their reins, and -- taking the makeshift rope from Bill and Charlie again -- he looped the end under the straps of both his and Bill’s saddles. He gave several tugs at all of the connections to make sure they were tight and secure before mounting his horse.

“Sir Weasley, if you would assist me.”

Catching onto Orion’s idea at last, Bill rushed forward so he could jump up onto his own horse.

“Mr. Weasley, you may want to have your hands ready to help Carewyn climb out when she gets close to the top,” said Orion over his shoulder. “Sir Weasley, together now.”

With a lot of effort and strain, the two horses were able to lift Carewyn and the broken wheel up and out of the ravine. Once Carewyn was out, all three men averted their eyes so she could put her dress back on. Once she was suitably redressed in her orange-and-beige dress, snood, and dark scarlet wool jacket, she, Bill, and Orion helped Charlie secure some makeshift posts he’d carved out of some nearby tree branches under the broken coach so that their four horses could lift it up off the ground and help support it without its second back wheel. Then the four hobbled the coach up the mountain the rest of the way to the Weasley family cottage.

The home of the Weasley family, affectionately nicknamed “the Burrow,” was built up against the side of a hill. Attached to the house was a large farm with sprawling pastures and short, rustic wooden fences. Its roof had clearly been patched up multiple times over the years with whatever kind of wood was on hand, making it resemble a patchwork quilt.

When the group arrived, Bill and Charlie’s youngest sibling and only sister Ginny immediately ran out to greet them -- she’d seen them coming up over the horizon and was beyond thrilled to see that it was her eldest brothers. Bill and Charlie’s teenage brothers Percy, Fred, George, and Ron soon followed along after. Fred and George -- who were identical twins -- were quick to crow that Charlie had brought them an early birthday present (namely, the coach), and Percy scolded them that clearly it was for work and they should let it alone. Orion and Carewyn ended up staying back at a distance, both faintly baffled by the amount of warmth and noise emanating from the seven siblings as they chattered amongst themselves, constantly stepping on each other’s feet and interrupting what everyone else was saying. Neither of them had ever encountered a family quite like this before. When Bill and Charlie’s parents, Arthur and Molly Weasley, emerged from the house, however, Molly very quickly bustled every last one of them inside, including Orion and Carewyn.

“In you go, the lot of you,” she said in a forceful, but very warm tone of voice. “You all look like you need some supper-- ”

“Oh -- no, Mrs. Weasley,” said Carewyn very quickly, “I couldn’t impose -- ”

“Nonsense, dear!” said Molly, as she took Carewyn’s hands and led her inside. “Why, you’re positively freezing! To think, you came all the way out here without a proper muff for your hands...”

“I had to help Charlie with the carriage,” Carewyn said, her eyes drawn away awkwardly rather than looking at Molly, “I couldn’t hope to have my hands free, using a muff...”

“Then both of you should come inside and get warm,” said Arthur, startling Orion with an amiable clap on the back. “Any friend of Bill and Charlie’s is a friend of our family.”

Carewyn had never been the subject of such coddling and generosity before in her life. Her mother had always taught her to treat people with respect and compassion, of course, but she had been a soft-spoken and understated person, and their family life had always been very quiet. And of course at the Cromwell estate, it had been less modest and quiet, but far less affectionate as well. Never had she ever visited such a loud, crowded, and faintly uncomfortable place that still nonetheless felt like a home, full of warmth and love.

Even Orion found himself feeling a bit unsettled by the Weasley family’s overwhelming hospitality. He’d been in plenty of unruly, crowded, and loud settings like this before -- but none of them had ever been quite this...well, jovial. It made it so that Orion yearned for peace, quiet, and returned distance, and yet also couldn’t help but marvel at the positive vibes that rippled off of this family and how much they could give, despite clearly having so little. When dinner was served, Orion had to politely decline a bowl of beef stew because he didn’t eat meat, and Molly Weasley immediately handed the bowl off to Ron so she could set about making Orion his own plate, piled high with cheesy mashed potatoes, sauteed mushrooms, and roasted cauliflower seasoned with garlic and chives.

The Weasley family and their guests sat in an uncomfortable, messy half-circle around the large brick fireplace, laughing and talking as they ate. After supper came the dessert of hot, fresh apple dumplings, and after dessert came some hot tea and scones. After all, said Molly Weasley, having guests over was a rare treat, so they were going to celebrate appropriately. Neither Carewyn nor Orion could remember ever having felt so full in all their lives.

As everyone enjoyed their scones and tea, stories and songs were swapped around the fire. At one point in the evening, twelve-year-old Ginny -- who was perfectly thrilled to have another girl around, for a change -- begged Carewyn to sing for them. Apparently Bill had told his family all about her lovely voice. So, with some encouragement from Charlie, Arthur, and Molly, Carewyn bit back a broad, amused grin, took a deep breath, and started to sing.

“Mother cannot guide you...now you’re on your own.

Only me beside you -- still, you’re not alone...”

Orion had thought to himself that Carewyn must have done the song from his youth proper justice while singing for the Prince, but hearing her sing it in person, seeing her smile at him and her eyes sparkle as she did so...it was a completely different matter. As before, Orion felt all of the tension in his shoulders ebb off of him, as easily as dirt was washed away in warm water. He bowed his head and closed his eyes, tilting his head a bit so that he could hear her better, as his breathing and heart rate slowed. Even with his eyes closed, he could hear a smile in every word Carewyn sang...even when she likely wasn’t smiling at all, he thought. How could she be smiling, when lines like “sometimes people leave you half-way through the wood” and “people make mistakes -- fathers, mothers” rang with such emotion and pain? Was that pain visible on her face? Orion thought not, given Carewyn’s sense of grace and composure...but he heard it, all the same. He felt it -- her heart, aching with a kind of deep, blazing empathy Orion had never encountered in anyone else before.

When Carewyn came to the end of the song, Orion opened his eyes at last. The Weasleys all clapped, delighted, but he barely heard them as he turned to Carewyn.

“...That was remarkable,” he murmured.

Carewyn smiled. “I’m glad you think I did it justice.”

“Mm,” said Orion. “I’ve...never heard anyone drown like that, before.”

Carewyn couldn’t bite back a laugh. “Perhaps I didn’t do it justice then, if I sounded like I was drowning...”

“You were drowning in the words’ meaning,” corrected Orion. “Enveloping and submerging yourself in them -- allowing them to pull you in and take your breath away.”

He smiled, his black eyes very soft upon Carewyn’s face.

“It was...very moving.”

Molly’s face spread into an indulgent smile as she reached forward and patted Carewyn’s hand. “It was absolutely beautiful, dear.”

“Orion’s right, Carewyn,” agreed Arthur. “Your feelings really came through. I could tell the words mean something to you.”

Carewyn offered a polite smile, even as her eyes drifted away. “...I suppose they do.”

“It sounds like a lullaby, sort of,” mused Ron. “Even if it talks about your mother not being around.”

Ginny tilted her head toward Carewyn, Ron’s words prompting concern.

“...Do you not have a mother, Carewyn?”

The rest of the family went very quiet -- some like Percy shot Ginny warning looks, while others like Molly and Ron couldn’t help but glance at Carewyn in similar concern.

Carewyn’s gaze had drifted off onto the fire. Although she was turned away and her face was stoic, however, Orion could see her eyes rippling like turbulent ocean water, before she closed them solemnly.

“...I had one,” she answered softly at last. “She died when I was twelve.”

“Was she sick?” asked Ron, very hesitantly.

Carewyn bowed her head and gave a single, silent nod. Everyone in the room knew what that meant. The Plague had swept through both Royaume and Florence several times, over the span of the War -- one of the worst years was about nine years ago now...probably the same year Carewyn had lost her mother.

Orion’s black eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly upon her face. Molly looked like she wanted to envelop Carewyn in the biggest hug and was only holding back the urge because of her husband’s tight, reassuring squeeze to her hand.

“Oh, you poor dear,” she murmured.

Carewyn raised her head at last, her expression once again touched by a small, resilient, pretty smile.

“It’s all right,” she said gently, her eyes only briefly grazing each of the Weasleys’ faces. “I’ll always miss my mother...but I’m getting along all right. And I still have Jacob.”

“Your brother?” asked Percy, and Carewyn nodded.

“He left for War the same day he and I moved in with our grandfather,” Carewyn explained.

“Your brother must be quite a bit older than you, then,” said Orion.

Carewyn glanced at Orion out the side of her eye, smiling slightly. “Nine years older, yes. You know...you actually remind me of him, a bit.”

Orion raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

Carewyn was forced to stifle a giggle behind her hand. “Jacob is also the sort to do things in his own clever way. Only he’s a lot more aggressive than you -- and more talkative, and arrogant, and overprotective...”

“And uglier,” inserted Fred.

“And smellier,” added George.

“With a long crooked nose and ears like a bat’s.”

The younger Weasley siblings were all laughing now. Carewyn had to cover her mouth to stifle her giggling.

“No!” she choked. “I don’t mean it like that! He’s wonderful, really. He’s just...well, an absolute idiot about how to interact with other people. He’s completely brilliant, mind you -- he could give you whole lectures about anything from geography to mathematics to physics...but coming up with spontaneous gifts for no occasion at all, just based on someone’s interests? He’d need some prodding, to do something like that.”

She smiled at Orion, who couldn’t help but grin fully in return.

“It was truly nothing at all, Carewyn,” he said. “With your love of music, it felt like that song would be something you would appreciate.”

Arthur glanced at Orion curiously. “Where is that song from, Orion? I’ve never heard it before.”

“I learned it as a boy,�� Orion answered. “I would hear it sung outside the window of the workhouse, sometimes.”

Molly looked very troubled. “Workhouse? Orion dear, you don’t mean to say you grew up in one of those terrible places?”

Orion felt Carewyn’s gaze on him. When he looked back at her, her almond-shaped blue eyes were rippling with concern as well, though much gentler and more empathetic than Molly’s. He tried to offer her a smile.

“Let’s just say the words spoke to me as well, at the time,” he said lightly. “Not just to me, either...all of the boys there, one way or another, were where they were because of other people’s ‘terrible mistakes.’”

Orion’s gaze drifted down to his own hands as he lightly clasped them in his lap.

“...The War doesn’t touch you the same way here, but...the closer you are to Florence...the more the reality of it hits you in the face, every day. Even when you’re not on the battlefield itself -- even when you’re just at the border -- you, and the ones you care for, run the risk of getting caught in the crossfire. And on the border of Florence and Royaume...in those towns where it’s hard to tell where one country starts and another begins...tensions are like gunpowder. One spark from the tiniest match can set it ablaze -- can make everything implode, and force you to start all over again.”

His face was unreadable, but his black eyes were endless, rippling with the recollection of the fire and smoke -- the red and blue colors of Royaume, on the saddles of horses -- the life leaving his mother’s eyes -- his own heavy, terrified hyperventilating...

He closed his eyes and took several very deep, measured breaths before continuing.

“In such a place...one can find people desperate enough to want to lash out at others, to avenge their pain,” said Orion solemnly. “But there was one sweet old woman who owned a flower and herb shop near the workhouse. She’d had to rebuild her establishment several times over the years, and from what I understand, she finally had to leave town not long after I did...but every time she caught wind that the army was coming to town, looking for new recruits...she’d sing the song just loudly enough that we boys could hear it through our window.”

He absently played with the crudely carved circular charm on the cord around his neck in one hand.

“And although there were those who still enlisted afterwards...many others did not.”

Carewyn’s eyes widened.

“‘While we’re seeing our side,’ ” she sang again, more softly, “‘maybe we forgot...they are not alone. No one is alone.’ ”

Orion’s lips spread into a smile as he looked at Carewyn, his black eyes rippling gently as he nodded.

“So it’s against the War, then,” murmured Charlie. He glanced at his parents, who both looked concerned.

“Did that woman with the flower shop give you that?” asked Ginny curiously, indicating the charm around Orion’s neck.

“Yes,” said Orion. “She gave it to me one night when I tried to run away, to soothe my nerves. Its effects wore off by the next morning, but I’ve never really had the heart to throw it out.”

Percy sputtered, looking very pale. “Th-then she was a witch?”

“Whoa,” said Fred and George, looking almost too eager.

“Did she turn all the army into pigs?” asked George.

“Did she lure you in and try to cook you in a soup?” said Fred.

Orion smiled indulgently. “Of course not -- ”

“Well, thank Heavens for that!” said Molly, shooting the twins a very reproachful look. “Magic isn’t something to make fun of, you two -- it’s frankly a wonder you weren’t hurt, dear...”

Orion frowned. “There was no danger, Madam Weasley, I assure you.”

“No danger! Orion,” Molly scolded him indulgently, “I applaud your courage...but nature has its own way of things, and any magic that twists it out of shape is more dangerous than it’s worth.”

To the Weasley family’s surprise, Carewyn actually spoke up.

“Mrs. Weasley, men tend fields, plant seeds, domesticate horses and dogs...treat illnesses and injuries...cut hair and wear makeup and put on heeled shoes to make ourselves appear taller. Would that not also be twisting nature’s intent?”

Molly actually faltered somewhat. “Well, yes, but...that’s very different from magic, Carewyn! Magic is...well, it’s wild. Uncontrollable.”

“It’s untamed chaos,” said Arthur more levelly than his wife. “A kind that’s done a lot more harm than good.”

“But it still can be used for good,” said Carewyn very firmly. “And if it has that potential, why must we treat it as though it and all of its users are inherently reprehensible? If magic can be used to save lives, or heal the sick, or even just calm a scared boy down after something horrible...”

She glanced at Orion out the side of her eye.

“...Then it seems to be like any other weapon or tool, or even any other person -- something that could protect or hurt.”

Orion felt like his heart was being flooded with warmth, and his entire expression melted with pride and something like affection as he stared at Carewyn.

She truly is a woman to be admired. The memory of Skye’s irritation and McNully’s warning rippled over Orion’s mind and he found himself faltering. Admire...yes. Anyone could grow to admire such a woman, couldn’t they? To respect and esteem her...to...grow an attachment, to her... Even I? Could I...?

The Weasleys exchanged uncertain looks amongst themselves.

“Come to think of it,” said Ron thoughtfully, “wasn’t there that old myth about fairy godmothers who grant you wishes?”

Fred brought an arm roughly around his younger brother’s neck and put him in a rough choke hold. “Aww, ickle Ronnie wanting a pwetty new dress?”

“‘Oh fairy godmother, I just gotta have a new dress for the Winter Festival!’” said George in a high-pitched squeal.

“Geroff!” growled Ron, as he pulled free.

“Oh, but that would be fun!” sighed Ginny. “Dancing at the Winter Festival, in the prettiest dress you’ve ever seen...you’re going to the Festival, aren’t you, Carewyn?”

“Probably not, Ginny,” said Carewyn gently, “I’ve got so much work to do...”

“Oh, but you have to!” whined Ginny. “The Festival’s tradition! Right, Orion?”

“So I’ve heard,” Orion said modestly, “but I’m afraid I’ve never attended a Winter Festival either.”

“What?!” said all of the Weasley children except Bill in thoroughly aghast unison.

“It’s the biggest celebration of the entire year -- ”

“Everybody in town will be there -- ”

“ -- well, aside from the noble tarts -- ”

“ -- but hey, who needs them?”

“Everybody makes the best mince pies and hot apple cider -- ”

“There’s dancing and singing and games and gift-giving -- ”

“You just can’t miss it -- ”

Before long, they’d completely gotten off the topic of magic all together, so the Weasleys could tell Orion all about the Winter Festival. Carewyn took the opportunity to start carrying dishes into the kitchen so that she could help Molly clean up. While she did so, Bill pulled her aside.

“Carewyn...can I talk to you? Alone?”

Carewyn blinked, but nonetheless put down the dishes she was carrying and followed Bill off into a secluded corner.

“What’s wrong?” she asked in concern.

Bill bit the inside of his lip, his brown eyes drifting over in the direction of the fireplace where the rest of his family was sitting with Orion.

“Carewyn,” he said slowly, “who is that man, really?”

Carewyn’s eyebrows knit together. Bill ran a hand over the undone collar of his tunic absently.

“He’s hiding something, I know it. And I’m sure you see it too. He dodges questions he doesn’t want to answer, and as much as he’s even told us tonight about himself, he never gives important details. He lived near the border, but he didn’t mention what town he’s from. He lived in a workhouse, presumably after losing his parents, but he never said what he lost them to.”

“Those things might not be easy for him to talk about, Bill,” Carewyn said softly.

“Yes,” said Bill in a bracing voice, “but he also hopped the walls of the palace, completely ignorant of how tight royal security is and why, has enough time to chase after you most every day, and gets paints from people he can’t identify and learns songs from people who, from the sound of things, practice witchcraft.”

Bill crossed his arms. He clearly was trying to be considerate to Carewyn’s feelings, but couldn’t hold back his concerns.

“Look, I...I understand you like the man. And I understand why -- Ginny and the others seem to have taken to him pretty well, too. But there’s no reason for someone to hold back that many secrets, unless they’re up to no good. He could be a cad, or a criminal, or maybe even something worse. Judging by his stance on magic, he could even be a magician himself...”

His brown eyes narrowed slightly upon Carewyn’s face.

“I’m just...worried about you, that’s all,” he said lowly.

Carewyn considered Bill for a long moment. Then, reaching out a hand, she gently took hold of Bill’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

“Bill...I understand how you feel. And I’m grateful, truly grateful, for your caring. I hardly deserve it, and it...it means a lot to me.”

Bill frowned deeply, ready to say something, but Carewyn cut him off.

“But believe me when I say that people don’t just keep secrets because they mean to do harm. Sometimes -- for some people -- they’ve had to learn to hide themselves and shield their hearts...so much so that even when they encounter good people, it’s hard for them to let their guard down. Sometimes they’ve known so much pain that, even though they’re kind people, they’ve numbed themselves to a degree, just to protect themselves. Lied so much...that it becomes second-nature. Or worse, lie because they don’t know who they can really trust...because so many people have hurt them that they don’t know what trust even feels like anymore.”

Bill’s expression lost some of its edge, though it still looked wary.

“...And if he is a magic user?”

“Then he’s one of the good ones,” said Carewyn firmly.

Bill still looked a bit unsure. Carewyn squeezed his shoulder a bit more tightly, her eyes resting there instead of on his face.

“Bill, my brother is only alive, thanks to magic.”

Bill was startled.

“The Plague swept through our whole house,” said Carewyn lowly. “First the landlord and his family -- then my mother...and then Jacob. We were living hand-to-mouth, and I didn’t have anyone else to go to...so I went to the Cromwell estate.”

Bill’s brown eyes became a little smaller, darkening with grim understanding.

“...You went to your grandfather.”

Carewyn nodded. “He disowned Mum long ago, but he was still our family, so I thought he might be willing to help us. He agreed to take Jacob and me in and nurse Jacob back to health, so long as we paid back his generosity. Grandfather then tracked down a witch who could cast a spell to save Jacob’s life.”

Bill’s eyebrows furrowed. “Lord Cromwell hired a -- ?”

“Do not repeat this, Bill!” Carewyn said very sharply and urgently. “To anyone, do you understand? No one.”

Her eyes then softened visibly, becoming grimmer and sadder.

“Jacob was dying. There was no other option.”

Bill looked like he was in pain, just hearing this second-hand. He swallowed, and then gave a nod.

“So that witch saved your brother’s life,” he said quietly.

Carewyn nodded, her eyes full of emotion despite the stoicism of her features.

“The spell she cast bound Jacob’s life to Grandfather’s will. Jacob was brought into the house on a stretcher just after dawn, and within a half-hour...he was up on his own two feet again.”

Carewyn closed her eyes. She could still remember Jacob’s blazing, relieved smile as he barreled down the stairs and threw his arms around her, cradling her like a baby.

“My Wyn -- my sweet Wyn -- ”

Not long after that, though...Jacob’s arms were yanked away -- all of him was yanked away -- held back by Blaise and Claire and Pearl’s husbands, who all had work to together just to restrain Jacob as he fought to reach her, screaming and raging like a mad man --

“WYN! NO! GET OFF OF ME -- WYN! I WON’T LET YOU -- CAREWYN!”

Carewyn opened her eyes, the soft longing fading from her face completely and leaving a much more stony expression behind.

Bill himself, however, looked more troubled than ever.

“You said your brother left for War the same day you and he arrived at the Cromwell estate,” he whispered shakily. “Do you mean that, right after saving your brother’s life...Lord Cromwell immediately sent him off to War -- all while knowing how few men return home alive?”

Carewyn’s lips came together tightly.

“Grandfather sent him to the front, so that Jacob could start paying back the debt I owed him,” she said, her voice very soft and oddly distant. “After all...a man who wouldn’t die, so long as he willed it...would make an excellent soldier.”

Bill looked horrified.

“Then...” he whispered, “...then Jacob’s only alive because your grandfather decides whether he lives or dies? You only know your brother’s still alive after so many years at war...because Lord Cromwell is bound to him through magic, and he’s holding his life over your head?”

Carewyn withdrew her hand from Bill’s shoulder and turned away.

“Carewyn...that’s monstrous!” said Bill, and he was unable to keep his voice from rising. “I didn’t even know magic could do something like that -- but -- but that’s nothing, compared to...”

He couldn’t restrain himself. He actually threw an arm around Carewyn and pulled her into a hug from behind. The small ginger-haired woman stiffened like a startled cat.

“Bill?”

Carewyn looked up at him -- were those tears, in his eyes?

“Have you...never told anyone else, about this?” Bill murmured.

Carewyn tried to turn around, her blue eyes welling up with regret and pain. “Bill...”

She brought a hand through his hair, trying to soothe him the way she used to for Jacob.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I -- I didn’t mean to upset you -- I only wanted to explain why I’m not scared of magic...please forgive me.”

Bill closed his eyes to try to hold back both his righteous anger and his tears.

“Forgive you?” he repeated in a choked voice. “For what, trusting me with the truth?”

“For making you worry unnecessarily,” Carewyn said forcefully, trying to ignore how uncomfortably her stomach was squirming.

Bill opened his eyes, looking both flabbergasted and more upset than ever. “Unnecessarily?”

He roughly grabbed both of Carewyn’s shoulders and forced her to look up at him.

“Now you listen here, Carewyn Cromwell,” he said, taking on the sort of tone he only ever used with his younger siblings when they were being rowdy, “you may get to decide if you want to interact with me or not, or rely on me or not, or accept my help or not. But you don’t get to decide whether I worry about you or not. And from here on out...”

Bill’s brown eyes were blazing with resolve.

“...I’m going to worry about you. Because I hate the thought of someone feeling like anybody else worrying about them is somehow a problem.”

Carewyn was left speechless.

Bill’s face broke into a broad smile through his tears. “Until your brother’s back from the War, Carey, I’ll be looking after you for him -- no arguments, no dismissals, no saying you’re fine on your own. Got it?”

Carewyn looked at Bill, perfectly stunned. Then her gaze fell away toward the floor.

“...It sounds like...I really don’t get a choice in the matter, then,” she whispered.

“Nope,” said Bill, grinning broadly.

Carewyn was unable to fight back the weak smile prickling at the sides of her lips, nor the emotion flooding her eyes, even as she kept her face turned away.

“...And I suppose ‘Carey’...is a suggestion of a nickname you plan to give Charlie, for me?”

Bill’s eyes sparkled fondly. “Well, every one of my siblings has a nickname, in case you haven’t noticed.”

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #cinderella au #carewyn cromwell #orion amari #murphy mcnully #skye parkin #bill weasley #charlie weasley #percy weasley #fred weasley #george weasley #ron weasley #ginny weasley #molly weasley #arthur weasley #katriona cassiopeia #charles cromwell #jacob cromwell #my art #my writing #GAAAAHHHH BILLLL #I LOVE YOU SO FRIGGIN' MUCH MY PRECIOUS BOY ;~;#you go be a good big brother and best friend for carewyn you wonderful thing #also ooh hoo hoo~ orion you can claim you're not crushing but you aren't fooling anybody hahahaha #you'll figure out what you're feeling soon enough >D #we're learn more about how magic works in this universe as time goes on of course #but yeah rest assured there's still a lot to unravel in regards to what happened to jacob... >>#and of course this part is another reminder that charles cromwell is a no-good son of a b****

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