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reallca-blog · 2 years ago

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Unwrapping the Wonka Bar Vol. 1 - Where is Charlie’s Town Located? Part 3

If you haven’t read the previous post, click here for Part 2 to make sure you are caught up to speed. If you’re already read the previous posts, then welcome back and let’s get back to the show!

Exhibit #2: The Accents of the Inhabitants of Charlie’s Town

When trying to parse out where someone is from, one of the best ways to do so is to decipher what kind of accent they speak with, and in the case of Charlie’s town there seems to be a divide amongst the population. Now, before we move on with this analysis, I need to clarify two terms I will be using to ensure the least amount of confusion as possible. The two groupings of English accents that will be used in this analysis will be what we will refer to as a “British Accent,” or all the accents spoken anywhere on the British Isles (the United Kingdom and the Republic of Ireland), and a “North American Accent,” which is to say any accent spoken in Anglo-North America (the United States and Canada). With these parameters set, we can now go in depth into the backgrounds of the residents of Charlie’s town and try to piece together where they might live.

When it comes to the residents of Charlie’s town who speak in a British Accent, these residents include:

All seven members of the Bucket family.

Sidebar #2.1: Mr. Bucket’s actor, Noah Taylor, is Australian and fakes a British Accent throughout most of the film, but you can hear his normal Australian accent, which is a bit more high-pitched and melodious, during his first line of dialogue in the film when he says “Evening Buckets.” As to an in-universe explanation for this literal slip-of-the-tongue, Mr. Bucket’s father, Grandpa George, was played by actor David Morris who hailed from Folkestone, England, a coastal town in County Kent, meaning that sea-faring industries were a major component of the town’s economy. Since Grandpa George speaks in the working class southern English accent of his actor, perhaps he too has roots in Folkestone and he worked on a boat when he was younger, and instead of leaving Grandma Georgina behind he took her on the boat too. This means that the two would have ended up wherever the boat docked, which very well could have been Australia. Perhaps then Mr. Bucket could have been born in Australia and his family could have spent the earliest years of his life there because Grandpa George found work there, meaning Mr. Bucket would have interacted with many Australian children and thus learned to speak like them. However, Grandpa George would then lose his job in Australia and this would force him to move his family back to Folkestone, the town where his journey to Australia would have begun years prior. And while Mr. Bucket would have then grown up around people who spoke with British Accents, and thus would also being to speak like them on a regular basis, the Australian accent he picked up during his formative years would never be truly erased from his speech pattern and so sometimes he would speak in such a manner, such as when he greeted the family after returning home from a long day at work in order to provide for his family as his father did before him.

Sidebar #2.2: Similar to Mr. Bucket, another member of the family, Grandpa Joe, is played by a non-English actor, in this case Irish actor David Kelly. Charlie’s favorite grandparent speaks in a mostly English accent, but one can still hear the influence of his normal Irish accent when comparing Grandpa Joe’s dialogue to that of David Kelly speaking in interviews, speeches or his dialogue from other roles where he did not have to fake an accent. The easiest explanation for this is that, just like Mr. Bucket who we say was not born in England, Grandpa Joe was born in Ireland to an Irish family and at some point left Ireland in search of work. Now, this forced him to adopt a much more English-sounding accent in order to assimilate into a society which was notoriously fraught with anti-Irish sentiment, at least amongst the British Accent speaking population, at the time due to the backlash against efforts by Irish Nationalists to unify the island of Ireland and free it from British rule. However, the love and pride he felt for his homeland prevented him from outright purging his original accent from his speech and so he did not entirely loose his natural accent as well.

The two dog-walking men.

The middle-aged blonde lady in the corner store where Charlie purchases the Wonka Bar containing his Golden Ticket whom the film credits refer to as “Customer in Shop.”

The owner of the corner store where Charlie purchases the Wonka Bar containing his Golden Ticket whom I have come to the conclusion we all call “Bill,” but the film credits refer to as “The Shopkeeper.”

Sidebar #2.3: The actor who plays Bill the Shopkeeper, Oscar James, is from Trinidad and Tobago, however the island nation was a Crown Colony of the United Kingdom until 1962, around the time Oscar James was twenty. Therefore, Oscar James portrays Bill the Shopkeeper as speaking an accent that is a fusion between an English and a Trinidadian accent, much like Grandpa Joe does with his Irish-English fusion accent. And like Mr. Bucket with Noah Taylor’s natural Australian accent, you can hear Bill the Shopkeeper’s Trinidadian accent when he gets exited, in his case after Charlie discovers he won the last Golden Ticket and he giddily adds “In my shop, too!” Now, with respect to Bill the Shopkeeper, according to an article from The National Archives, the official archive and publisher for the UK Government, England and Wales, titled “Bound for Britain-Experiences of immigration to the UK,” from 1947 to 1970 nearly half a million people left Trinidad and Tobago and other island colonies in the British West Indies for the UK in search of a better life following the rebuilding of the UK in the post-World War II period. It would make sense that Bill the Shopkeeper would have been an immigrant like these too, with him leaving Trinidad and Tobago in his late teens or early twenties in search of a better-paying job elsewhere. But because immigrants from rural countries rarely have the skillset necessary for the highest-paying jobs, Bill would have most likely been relegated to the lowest-level jobs, like sales representative. But after years of barely earning enough to get by, Bill’s hard work eventually pay off and he would become the shopkeeper of his own corner store, where he now serves the community of Charlie’s town and now lives the life that all immigrants dream to achieve. And thus, because he would have immigrated as an adult, unlike Mr. Bucket, he would have spoken with a Trinidadian accent throughout his formative years. But due to the mere chance he was born an immigrant, Bill the Shopkeeper, just like the Irish Grandpa Joe, would have found it useful to mimic an English accent when speaking to people in the broader society as it would have, albeit only slightly more considering his Afro-Caribbean roots, helped him advance in the xenophobic, Anglo-centric society of twentieth century Charlie’s town. This repression of his natural accent is what would eventually lead him to find success as a small businessowner, yet when he finds himself in a scenario where his humanity must show itself, his natural accent takes over, such as when he is elated to discover that a local boy found Willy Wonka’s last Golden Ticket in his shop of all places.

The bald man who offers Charlie $50 and a new bicycle for the Golden Ticket at the corner store where Charlie purchases the Wonka Bar containing his Golden Ticket whom the film credits refer to as “Tall Man.”

The lady at 103 Pickwicket Avenue handing out Halloween candy whom the film credits refer to as “Jolly Woman.”

And last, but not least, Dr. Wilbur Wonka.

And when it comes to the residents of Charlie’s town who speak in a North American Accent, these residents include:

The one and only, Willy Wonka.

The news reporter standing outside of Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory reporting on the announcement of the Golden Ticket contest, whom the film credits refer to as “TV Reporter.”

Sidebar #2.4: We do not know if this reporter is a resident of Charlie’s town or if he is just an American or Canadian journalist working for a news network from one of those countries that happens to be stationed at the bureau office for Charlie’s town and reporting on the biggest story developing overseas for his audience back home. Either option is acceptable, but I will say that he is a resident for reasons that will become relevant later on.

The reporter who speaks after the report on Augustus Gloop finding his Golden Ticket and breaks the news to his viewers that Mike Teavee found his Golden Ticket.

The reporter who speaks after the report on Mike Teavee finding his Golden Ticket.

The middle-aged woman who offers Charlie $500 for the Golden Ticket at the corner store where Charlie purchases the Wonka Bar containing his Golden Ticket whom the film credits refer to as “Woman in Shop.”

Ruthie, Veronica and Terrance (Whom shall be referred to as “Willy Wonka’s friends” collectively).

And the security guard at the Flags of the World exhibit whom the film credits refer to as “Museum Guard.”

Now, when we tally up the results of our analysis, we see that out of the 23 residents who speak on screen, there are a total of 14 people, or 60.9% of the sample, who speak with British Accents and 9 people, or 39.1% of the sample, who speak with North American Accents in Charlie’s town. Now, while this seems to be a perfect balance between Tim Burton’s vision of an unspecified Anglo-American fusion setting, while also being significantly more British than it is American, and thus more in line with Roald Dahl’s vision, a deeper look into the data reveals an interesting trend. While the data gathered for this analysis comes from one physical location, Charlie’s town, the data spans three decades, that is to say the residents with speaking roles are residents of Charlie’s town in both 2005 and 1975. With such a wide time gap between the sources for our data, it only makes sense to divide these two eras into different data sets for a more accurate picture.

And so, when we break down our list of characters, we see that the residents of Charlie’s town who spoke with British Accents in 1975 include:

“Jolly Woman” and Dr. Wilbur Wonka. I however will be including Bill the Shopkeeper, Grandpa Joe, Grandma Josephine, the then one-day-to-be Mrs. Bucket and one adult who will serve as one of Willy Wonka’s friend’s parent in the total.

Sidebar #2.6: I included these extra characters whom we do not see in Willy Wonka’s flashbacks in the count in order to boost up the numbers since we need more data to paint a more accurate picture of the demographics of Charlie’s town. However, instead of just making data up out of thin air, I argue that it makes logical sense that these characters would be living in the town during this time for the following reasons. I included Bill the Shopkeeper as he is clearly an immigrant in this non-Caribbean land due to the fact that he speaks with an accent distinct from the various British or North American accents spoken by the town’s residents. Not to mention the fact that he would have been in his early-thirties in 1975, meaning he would have been a bit older than the mostly young people who would have left their home island in search of economic opportunities in that year. So, it would only make sense to place Bill the Shopkeeper’s date of immigration about a decade earlier, thus becoming an established resident of Charlie’s town before 1975. Now, when it comes to Grandpa Joe and his family, I included half of Charlie’s family on this list because we do not know if Charlie’s family has been living in this town for a long time, or at least since 1975. Therefore, I divided the family in half, designating three of them as residents of the town for decades while keeping the other three as later economic migrants. As to why I chose Grandpa Joe’s family instead of choosing the Bucket family pre-Charlie, I made this decision since the best insight we have into how many members of Charlie’s family have lived in this town for multiple years is that we know Grandpa Joe’s family has lived in the town since at least 1985 when he worked at Willy Wonka’s first candy store on Cherry Street. We also do not see Grandpa George or Grandma Georgina during the opening ceremony for Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory in 1990, perhaps because they had no connection to the factory and chose not to attend but are still residents, or perhaps because they did not live in the town and thus could not attend. This makes sense when you consider the previous assumption of the Bucket family pre-Charlie which involves Grandpa George moving the family about in his search for work, only for him to end up in Charlie’s town where he found work before he got too old to work and ended up bedridden for over a decade. And as for the adult who stands in for one of Willy Wonka’s friend’s parents, it only makes sense that at least one of Ruthie, Veronica or Terrance’s parents would speak with a British Accent, thus coming from a mixed family just like Willy Wonka surely came from as well, with him sounding more like his mother whom does not appear in the film as she appears to have passed away by October 1975 since his father speaks with a British Accent and he does not.

On the other hand, the residents of Charlie’s town who spoke with North American Accents in 1975 include:

Willy Wonka, Ruthie, Veronica, Terrance and the “Museum Guard.” I will also be including three adults who will serve as Willy Wonka’s friend’s parents in the total.

Sidebar #2.7: I used a similar logic for the inclusion of these three adults who do not appear in the film in my calculations as I did for the adult in the British Accent section. Willy Wonka’s friends are clearly American, with them celebrating Halloween by engaging in trick-or-treating, an American tradition, across the neighborhood, and so it makes sense that at least three of the four parents speak with a North American Accent as well. And while there are three friends, therefore there would be six parents in total if neither of them are related, because we are not given any additional information as to whom the friends are, it would not be wrong to assume that perhaps two of the friends are siblings, therefore the friends would only have four parents.

Now, when we total up the results of our second analysis, we see that out of the 15 residents who speak on screen and are theorized to have existed, there are a total of 7 people, or 46.7% of the sample, who speak with British Accents and 8 people, or 53.3% of the sample, who speak with North American Accents in Charlie’s town in 1975. And while this is not an apples-to-apples comparison with the first analysis due to the inclusion of theorized parents for Willy Wonka’s friends, we can see that while residents with North American Accents now make up a majority in Charlie’s town, the demographics of the town are still near-evenly divided in 1975.

On the other hand, when we repeat this analysis for a third time, we see that the residents of Charlie’s town who spoke with British Accents in 2005 include:

All seven members of the Bucket Family, the two dog-walking men, the “Customer in Shop,” Bill the Shopkeeper, and the “Tall Man.”

On the other hand, the residents of Charlie’s town who spoke with North American Accents in 2005 include:

Willy Wonka, the “TV Reporter”, the reporter who speaks after the report on Augustus Gloop finding his Golden Ticket and breaks the news to his viewers that Mike Teavee found his Golden Ticket, the reporter who speaks after the report on Mike Teavee finding his Golden Ticket and the “Woman in Shop.”

Sidebar #2.8: The reason I did not include Willy Wonka’s friends in the total for residents with North American Accents in 2005 is because we do not see them as adults all throughout the film, and while some of you might disagree with this reasoning after I just invented parents for these friends and included them in my totals, my reasoning for this choice is as follows. While Willy Wonka is shown to be a hermit loner throughout most of the film, we know that he had friends at one point in his life, so the idea that those friends he had as a kid do not play a role in his life when he is a successful adult (at least when it comes to business) is as strange as the amazing chocolatier is. Therefore, I propose that Willy Wonka’s friends are still a part of his life, however they have long since moved out of Charlie’s town. The best theory I could come up with is that since they are the only people Willy Wonka trusts, they work for their friend as liaisons between the insular world of the factory, where Willy Wonka can be who he is, and the real world, which is cold, unforgiving and unaccepting of their friend’s genius. This way, the friends can still be a part of his life, but this explains why we never see any of them as adults throughout the film, because they are off somewhere else managing Wonka Worldwide, Inc.’s business relations for their shut-in friend.

And so, when we total up the results of our third analysis, we see that out of the 17 residents who speak on screen, there are a total of 12 people, or 70.6% of the sample, who speak with British Accents and 5 people, or 29.4% of the sample, who speak with North American Accents in Charlie’s town in 2005.

Now, the results of this more in-depth analysis demonstrate why it is important to hyper-analyze the accents of the residents of Charlie’s town. While an overall analysis would show a mostly-British, but still mixed, population, we can now see that that analysis is very misleading when it comes to describing the setting for the majority of the film that does not take place inside the factory. Over the course of three decades, Charlie’s town sees a demographic shift where the population of British Accent speakers goes from 46.7% to 70.6% and the population of North American Accent speakers goes from 53.3% to 29.4%. This 23.9 percentage point difference means that Charlie’s town either experienced a 51.18% increase in the British Accent speaking population or a 44.84% decrease in the North American Accent speaking population from when Willy Wonka was a kid to when Charlie was a kid. And while an analysis of the accents spoken in the town do not tell us which option is the case, it is nevertheless an important piece of evidence that will help us uncover the location of Charlie’s town.

That’s it for Part 3, click here for Part 4 when we analyze the driving system of Charlie’s town and how the data from that analysis relates to the date from this one.

Also, if you have better quality images of the scenes from the film I included in this post, feel free to share them with me so that I may replace the ones I used to improve the experience for the reader.

#unwrapping the wonka bar #charlie and the chocolate factory #charlie and the chocolate factory 2005 #unwrappingthewonkabar #charlieandthechocolatefactory #catcf #catcf 2005

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thefallennightmare · 10 months ago

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The Coyotes Cry-One

*gif made by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Pairings: MafiaBoss!TattooArtist! Noah Sebastian x OFC.

Warnings/Tropes: Warnings/Tropes: reverse harem/why chose in most parts of this story, violence, death, swearing, angst, fluff, forced proximity, forbidden love, dark romance, mafia themes, arranged marriage, tattoo artist, smut(very mature: P in V unprotected, masturbation, oral with male and female receiving, dry humping, knife play, blood play, period sex, Dom! Noah, mask play, choking, degradation, fingering, hand jobs, voyeurism, public sex, reverse harem which means one woman with multiple partners, sometimes together.)

Summary: Saoirse "Scar" McManus's life is turned upside down when her father and uncle marry her off to Noah Sebastian, the Ruler of The Concrete Jungle and Leader of OMNS, her old high school crush. A marriage based on secrets and lies comes back to destroy OMNS and The Concrete Jungle from within. When Scar has no choice but to step foot into The Grey looking for help, she realizes the price of love comes in a nest full of darkness.

Authors Note: Here is chapter one! I don't think this series will be more than six parts but you never know with how often I'm always adding things. This series will have mature themes throughout as a warning.

*I do not own the rights/names of Connor and Murphy McManus. Or anyone mentioned to the Boondock Saints.

Tags[OPEN]: @thescarlettvvitch @sammyjoeee @happi-goth @lma1986 @iknownothingpeople @vinyardmauro @malice-ov-mercy @concreteemo @wheezybrenda @thisbicc @malerieee @mrs-zimmerman @srorgana1 @miserylovescompany1195-blog @embracethereaper42 @lizzieseveride @eclipseeetop @sundamariis @calleyx13 @krisslee18 @princessgh0st @aprosiacperson @xxrainstorm @ourdiabolikal-rapture @iamamatus @klutzy-kay24 @cookiesupplier @bngurngheart @idwt-money @rain-down-on-me

NOAH

The screams were muted due to the concrete confines of the room, the cold, moist air circulating us in a suffocating grip. But none of that mattered, the only thing that did was strapped to the chair in front of me. Cleaning the sharp blade on the once-white handkerchief, I clicked my tongue at the raw screams.

“Scream all you want. No one can hear you all the way down here,” I said while pointing to the concrete walls. “I mixed the concrete myself with a special formula. Think of it as soundproof.”

The man spat blood at my feet, nearly missing my black boots. “Fuck you!”

A chuckle to the left of me and I glanced over to one of my right-hand men, Joakim. Although, we in OMNS always called him Jolly.

“I applaud the fire in you,” Jolly nodded at the man. “You’ll need it.”

Twirling the knife between my fingers, I yet again asked the same question that I asked three times previously.

“Who killed Vincent?”

“I already told you fuckers, I don’t know!” The man, Barry, choked out on a mouth full of blood. “You’re asking the wrong guy!”

As Barry fought against the bindings, the chair scraping against the ground at our feet, I hummed in mock disappointment. “No, Barry. I don't think we are. My intel tells me that someone in the Irish Mafia killed a dear friend of mine.”

“I hate to tell you, your intel is wrong,” Barry said with a dry chuckle.

Suddenly his screams of agony sounded like music to my ears as I dug the knife deep into his thigh directly above the previous wound that Jolly had given him with the screwdriver. My hair fell into my eyes and I hastily brushed it back with my large hand, blood smearing in the dark strands. I’d been due for a haircut for the last few weeks but haven’t found anyone able to give me the correct Levi cut since my older barber passed away.

“My intel is never wrong,” I gritted out through clenched teeth while twisting the knife deeper.

Barry was a blubbering mess, dark tendrils of his hair covered the agony on his face so with a sharp nod from me, Jolly stood behind Barry and ripped his head back so I could watch in pleasure.

“Now, I’m only going to ask one more time,” I twisted the knife deeper. “Who killed Vincent?”

He did his best to writhe away but with my knife piercing him in place and Jolly’s tight grip on his hair, there was nowhere for Barry to run. Blood dripped from his mouth, his nose, and the cut on his eyebrow. Before we captured him, he had the looks of a movie star but now, I couldn't help but cringe.

“I already told you,” he sobbed, a mess of blood and snot. “I swear.”

Jolly and I shared a look for a brief moment before we pushed away from Barry to slink over to the far end of the room to have a conversation.

“Do you believe him?” Jolly tied up his hair into a messy bun.

I placed my hands on my hips and sighed. “I don’t think he knows who killed Vincent but he knows the right direction we need to look. We need to crank it up a notch and show him that OMNS isn't going to back down from this.”

Instantly, he understood and while he retreated up the stairs to my office, I titled my head at Barry.

“What family do you work for?” I asked.

His breathing was shallow and unsteady thanks to the hard blows of Jolly’s fists to his ribs but I had to marvel at this kid's drive to remain loyal.

“The Walsh’s,” he eventually answered.

My brows furrowed in confusion. “The Walsh’s haven’t been around since they moved their operations back to Boston. Why are you still here running the streets for them?”

Barry lifted his heavy head and wore a smug smile. “Call me committed.”

“No, I don't think that’s it,” I shook my head and took two large steps towards him, him shrinking back into himself. “I think it’s the fact that you’re lying to me and I fucking hate liars.”

“Fucking shit!”

He cursed when I ripped out the knife from his thigh to press the blade against his neck.

“You’re insane,” Barry shuddered when he noticed the playful gleam in my eyes.

“Maybe,” I shrugged. “But I also don’t like liars. Now, I’ll ask again. What family do you work for?”

“It’s a new family on the rise called O’shove it up your ass,” he spat in my face.

Literally.

His saliva and blood dripped down my cheek but I didn’t even flinch and made no effort to wipe it away. Instead, I broke out into a wide smile when I heard Jolly returning with something special in tow; something that made Barry’s eyes widen in fear.

“Wh-what the fu-fuck, man?! Do you just have that lying around?” He stuttered.

Glancing over my shoulder, I extended my hand to Jolly who in turn placed the handle of the katana in my palm. Standing straight now, I studied the old sword with careful precision.

“This used to be my great-great-great grandfathers; passed down through each generation. It might be old but I have the blade sharpened every once in a while, just in case,” I said while slowly removing the blade from the sheath.

The dim light overhead cast its faded yellow glow on the sharp blade and something inside of me twinged with sheer delight.

“Ju-ju-st in case fo-for what?”

Jolly snorted at the stuttering mess of Barry while leaning against the concrete wall.

“Tell us what we want to know and you won’t have to find out.”

The sharp tip of the katana pressed lightly against Barry’s jugular, all it would take would be one flick of my wrist to end it all however I refrained, not wanting to end the fun before I got what I needed.

“What family do you work for?” I asked again, this time with less patience than the last time.

Barry’s eyes glanced down from the long blade at his throat to Jolly then finally up to me as I towered over him. His bottom lip wavered as he finally nodded.

“Okay, okay. Promise you won’t kill me?”

He tried to wager but to humor him, I gave a curt nod. “Tell me what I want to know and I’ll think about it.”

“Fuck,” Barry sobbed. “It doesn’t matter. I’m good as dead anyway. The McManus family don’t like rats and a low-level drug dealer like me isn’t worth saving.”

My grip on my katana slipped slightly at the name but I was quick to recover. “The McManus?”

He nodded widely. “ Yea. I work for the brothers; Connor and Murphy. I deal their drugs and run their errands.”

“So you’re their bitch?” Jolly asked.

Barry’s shoulders fell. “Essentially, yes.”

“Did the McManus brothers kill Vincent?” I asked while tightening my grip on the handle of the katana.

“No,” he shook his head, the blood from the wound above his eye now pooling into his eyes. “But they might know who did it. I can try and set up a meeting with them, on your behalf. Maybe they can lead you in the direction you’re looking for?”

Jolly gave me a look and I held up a finger, not quite finished with my conversation with Barry.

“Why the fuck would they listen to you if you’re just their bitch?”

This brought a wicked smile to his face as he used his shoulder to wipe away the blood from his chin.

“Because Murphy McManus doesn't like it when his daughter is threatened.”

A loud rumble erupted in my chest, like a ravenous growl, as I dug the blade of the katana deeper into Barry’s neck, blood now oozing from the fresh wound. I ignored his wails of pain, now only seeing red.

“You’ve got some balls kid to threaten the daughter of one of the most feared Irish Mafia families,” I said.

Barry shrugged in his binds. “I didn’t say it would be coming from me. Word on the street is that McManus' grandfather had issues with your grandfather some odd years ago. They’d believe me if I said the great Noah Sebastian was looking to start a turf war.”

With a scowl, I snapped my head at Jolly. “Get this piece of shit his phone so he can make the call.”

Never once faltering the blade from Barry’s neck, I watched with narrowed eyes as Jolly removed one of the binds around his wrist and tossed the phone on his lap.

“Make the meeting. If I hear one threat on the daughter, I’ll end your life before you even hang up the phone,” I seethed behind the mask of my hair as it fell into my eyes.

My heart beat like a thunderstorm in my chest at the thought of the McManus daughter. No one knew of her and what she meant to not only the family but me as well; besides my closest allies.

Barry’s fingers worked fast to type out a message before showing me the screen and with my free hand, I snatched it from him to read it.

Barry: The brother's food will be delivered at six p.m. tonight.

Unknown: What’s on the menu?

Barry: Japanese with a side of Swiss.

“Joakim is Swedish,” I corrected Barry. “I’m assuming this whole dinner rous is to keep the authorities off your back if they go snooping?”

“Look at you! I think you earned yourself a gold star,” Barry joked.

Jolly’s fist collided with his face, his neck snapping to the side, and the faint red mark from his ring began to rise on Barry’s cheek.

“Let me guess, he’s the muscle between the two of you?” Barry spat out a chunk of blood.

Not bothering to look away from his phone as a new message came in, I answered his question.

“No, that’s Ash. Trust me, you don’t want to meet him.”

Unknown: Dinner will be served in the study. 6 o’clock.

“It’s set,” I tossed the phone to Jolly who dropped it to the ground seconds before his boot came crashing down on it.

“What the fuck! You guys owe me a new phone!”

Placing the sheath back over the katana, I set it on the table along with the other wide variety of weapons and turned back to Barry with my hands crossed behind my back; grasping the weapon tightly. He glanced between Jolly and me and noticed the sinister gleam dancing behind my honey eyes.

“Hang on,” he began thrashing in the chair, free hand swinging widely. “You said I could live.”

“I did. But watch what you say next.”

Quickly, Jolly grabbed Barry’s free arm to drag his still-bound body over to the table behind me and held his wrist down. His hand was on display for my wicked plan.

“Barry, I have a question for you. If you answer wrong, well-,” I pulled out the hammer from behind my back and shook it in front of him.

His eyes widened in fear but I paid no mind to it, simply asked my question.

“Will Murphy’s daughter be there tonight?”

“Fuck no! Dumb broad never leaves her bedroom,” Barry answered. “She’s holed up in there all hours of the day. The only time she leaves is at 8 o'clock for her nightly walks.”

Jolly sucked in a breath just as I raised the hammer, bringing it down on Barry’s pinky, whose cries were overshadowed by the noise of his bones breaking.

“Why are you so obsessed with this broad?!”

I brought the hammer down again, this time breaking his ring and pointer finger. Now he was practically having an exorcism with how he was moving about on the chair, struggling to break free from the binds.

“One more question then I’m finished with this game,” I said while craning my neck to the side before getting eye level with the man. “Do you suspect the McManus family killed Vincent?”

While he stayed silent, the look that flashed over his hazel eyes told me everything I needed to know. Turning on my heels, I dropped the hammer on the table and began walking upstairs to leave Jolly to clean up until Barry’s voice halted me in my tracks.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if the broad pulled the trigger herself. She’ll do whatever she can to get Daddy’s attention since she was never the favorite..”

My shoulders went rigid and I could faintly hear Jolly mutter under his breath something in Swedish before I grabbed the gun from behind my back that had been tucked in the waist paint of my black slacks and fired two rounds straight into Barry’s chest.

“Noah,” Jolly started.

I waved him off before dropping the gun on the table. “Let’s be real, Jolly. We weren’t letting him walk out of here alive anyway.

“McManus,” he sighed while rubbing his jaw. “Why does that name sound familiar?”

I cleaned the blood from my fingers and rings before letting out a long breath. I knew he wouldn’t remember the name but that name haunted me for years, plagued my entire existence in more ways than one.

“They’re one of the most notorious Irish Mafia families. Their lineage started in Ireland generations ago before relocating to Boston where the McManus brothers were raised by their grandfather, Fergal. They moved to Los Angeles when the brothers were in their mid-twenties.”

“Wait,” Jolly’s head snapped over towards me. “The twins that went on that killing spree all those years ago in Boston. The last anyone heard from them is when they shot Yakavetta in open court.”

“Exactly why they moved here. Fergal didn't appreciate the hot trail on them so they hid out here for a few years. But Fergal couldn’t handle laying low for long because he began building the ranks here. Overstepping on my grandfather's turf, because he was still young at the time.” I grabbed the weapons we used on Barry and tossed them into the bucket of bleach in the utility sink.

“You know a lot about this family,” Jolly noted.

I hummed. “My grandfather told me all about them growing up. He wanted to make sure I was well versed in the McManus family once I took over.”

Glancing down at myself, I hummed again in displeasure when I noticed the blood spatter all over my white turtleneck.

Should have worn the black one, idiot.

I went about cleaning up the mess, ignoring the slumped-over body in the chair for a moment.

“The daughter. Do you think she did it?” Jolly wondered.

I halted unraveling the plastic we used to wrap the dead bodies for a few seconds before letting my shoulders drop slightly. “I don’t believe so. While the McManus brothers do hire hitmen to do their dirty work, there’s no way Murphy would make his own blood do it.”

“I know there’s some sort of history between you and her. With all of us-”

His words trailed off when I snapped my eyes over to him. “There is no history, Jolly. She’s just someone who went to high school with us. That was years ago and I doubt she even remembers that we went to the same school. She was too busy being preoccupied with other things.”

All of us in OMNS grew up together since we were twelve years old, Jolly moved here from Sweden when he was ten. We’d all been inseparable for the last sixteen years in the schoolyard and now the streets of the Concrete Jungle.

Not saying another word, the two of us busied ourselves cleaning up our mess and by the time we returned upstairs to my office. The staircase to the hidden basement was located behind a bookshelf and while Jolly closed it, I rummaged through the drawers of my desk to find a different shirt.

Now dressed in a fresh black t-shirt, we stepped out of my office and the sounds of tattoo machines reached my ears and I smirked walking into the open lobby. Every one of my artists had someone in their chairs and my most sought-after artist, Nicholas, glanced up at me for a second before returning to tattooing his client.

“How’d the meeting go?” He asked.

“Didn’t work out. We have another one set for 6 tonight,” Jolly informed.

I went up to the counter of my tattoo shop and glanced down at the book. It was a full day of appointments not to mention the group of girls that came in for a walk in. They were chittering like birds about how it was the blonde's bachelorette party and she specifically wanted me.

In more ways than one.

While she was cute, she wasn’t my type.

Roger, the receptionist of Under The Right Lights Tattoo Parlor, and newest recruit of OMNS glanced at me over his shoulder.

“Oh hey, Noah. Are you ready for the walk-in?”

I shook my head. “No, I’m not tattooing today. But I do have a job for you.”

His eyes lit up. “Yeah?”

“Tonight when the shop closes, stick around. We need your help with something,” I patted his shoulder.

“You got it, boss,” Roger nodded with a wide smile.

Turning on my heels, I stuffed my hands in my pockets to glance at my studio. I opened Under The Right Lights about six years ago and even though we had a slow start, once word got out that Noah Sebastian and Nicholas Ruffilo tattooed here, business flowed in through the doors.

I took over my grandfather's other business eight years ago but needed something to cover those dealings so that's when I thought of opening a tattoo shop with my best friends; my brothers. While Nicholas tattooed, Jolly ran the financial side of things, and Nick, or as we called him Folio, ran the motorcycle shop right next door. He was a mechanic, one of the best in town, and he often frequented here through the door to the left of Nicholas’ booth when he wasn’t busy fixing bikes.

Above my tattoo shop housed thirty apartments, all owned by me, and I lived in the penthouse on the tenth floor. Everyone in OMNS also lived in their own units so we could always be close to each other, in case something came up. With nine of the units being occupied by us, I rented out the other twenty-one for another form of income each month.

I treated everyone as an equal with the tattoo studio and OMNS but they also respected me enough to know that I had the final say with both. Things didn’t get approved unless I gave the okay.

Glancing down at my watch, I noticed that it was only four in the afternoon meaning we had a few hours until we met with the brothers. So I walked over to the back area of the shop where we used a private section to make a small gym where I knew Ash and Byran would be.

Ash was not only my bodyguard but he was also my trainer and Bryan took photos of the tattoos and ran our social media account.

“Tonight, six o'clock,” I said while crossing my arms.

Bryan wiped the sweat from his forehead and nodded. “I’ll make sure the SUV is loaded up.”

“Thank you,” I then turned towards Ash. “I’ve got a body downstairs. Do you mind?”

He shook his head. “Not at all. I’ll bring Matt. He needs a break from managing everything. Get out and smell the trees in the woods. Or the salty brine of the ocean.”

With a snort, I bid them goodbye before retreating into my office and ignoring the preposterous waves of the blonde in the waiting area and instead thought of a certain redhead.

SCARLETT

With a longing sigh, I brushed away the fire-red strands of hair from my face and adjusted my position on my bed to continue reading the book in front of me. It was the book Wolves: Behavior, Ecology, and Conservation by L. David Mech. This was the third time I’ve read but every time, I somehow learned something new.

I've been out of college with my degree for four years now and although I haven’t done anything since then, I still tried to keep up with my studies. The possibility of opening up a wildlife rescue still weighed heavy on my mind but I knew my father would never agree to it. His money was to be used for other business opportunities.

The spiral notebook was filled with my chicken scratch handwriting and after tossing down the pen, I shook out the cramp from my hand to glance at the clock on my nightstand. It was nearing six in the evening and when it would be time for dinner with my father and uncle, they had to cancel due to a meeting that seemed to come out of nowhere.

Next to the clock was a picture that made my heart drop to my stomach like it did every time. It was of me, my father, and my mother back on my eighteenth birthday and high school graduation; the last picture we took together.

Because she was murdered that night.

Eight years later the tears still burned in my eyes when I thought back to that night. We were driving home from dinner when someone crashed into our car and ran it off the road into a ditch. My father managed to pull me from the wreckage before the car burst into flames; my mother however wasn’t that lucky. We never found out who ran us off the road that night and whenever I asked about it, my father would wave me off and say one word only.

Revenge.

The relationship with my father was never the same since that night and once my Uncle Connor moved in, I retreated into myself. I loved them both dearly, but I blamed their life in the Irish Mafia for my mother's death. I did my best to remain respectful because I still lived in the McManus estate and knew I couldn’t make it on my own; not yet. My father had made it clear more than once that the only way I was to move out was either if I had my own money or married.

Hence why I was doubling up on my studies, I needed to find some kind of job with my degree, a simple job at a store or fast food place would not be enough to survive on my own. And clearly, my relationship with my boyfriend was nowhere near marriage level yet; we’d only been together for less than a year and never spoke about getting married.

I checked my phone and noticed Cory texted me a little while ago.

Cory: I have to cancel tomorrow night, sorry. Work is sending me out of town and won’t be back till Sunday.

I rolled my eyes knowing damn well he wasn’t the slightest bit sorry.

Me: OK. See you then, I guess.

I locked my phone, the sound echoing in the quiet of my bedroom, and I busied myself once again with the book in front of me until there was a soft knock on my door.

“Yes?” I called out.

The door cracked open slightly and a head of white curls popped their head inside and I instantly smiled.

“Hi, Dortha.”

“Hello dear,” our housekeeper smiled, resting her frail hands in the pocket of her apron. “I know your father and uncle can’t make dinner but I still made your favorite. If you’re hungry.”

My stomach growling gave way to my answer so with a chuckle, I let my studies be to follow Dortha out of my room and down to the dining room where I knew she already had a plate of food set up for me.

NOAH

The car ride across town to the McManus estate was filled with the ramblings of the other members of OMNS while I sat quietly behind the wheel, mind filled with more pressing matters. I gripped the wheel so hard that my knuckles were turning white, something Nicholas, who sat in the passenger seat, noticed right away.

“Are you alright?”

I nodded. “Just going over what I’m going to say.”

Pulling the car to a slow stop at a red light, I drummed my fingers against the dashboard, trying another thing to calm my nerves since the deep breathing exercises my therapist recommended weren’t working.

“Hey boss,” Roger spoke up from the back seat between Ash and Bryan. “Maybe someone else should drive. You seem nervous.”

My eyes sliced into him through the rearview mirror. “No one drives my car but me.”

With a shaking hand through his golden locks, he nodded and kept his head down the rest of the drive once I hit the gas again.

“Do you know what you’re going to ask them? Folio wondered from the seat behind me while tapping the wooden drumsticks he always carried on his lap.

“I’m thinking of coming out right and asking if they have any idea who killed Vincent,” I answered.

Jolly shifted in the seat behind Nicholas and without having to gaze over at him, I knew he wasn’t too thrilled about my idea.

“I’d say we just pop these fools. End this turf war once and for all,” Roger pipped up again.

His excitement for being brought along tonight was evident but I was suddenly regretting my decision.

“Chill, we need to be smart about this,” I said.

“We can’t go in there with guns blazing,” Jolly added.

I came to a stop in front of the large, gothic-like gate, and rolled down my window so I was able to click the button on the intercom.

“Yes?” A thick Irish accent responded.

I cleared my throat. “I have the brothers' dinner. Japanese with a side of Swiss.”

Only static came from the speaker for a long moment until the loud creak of the gate caused Roger to jump in surprise and Byran to stifle a laugh behind his hand. The SUV glided up the long drive with ease as the setting sun spilled inside casting all of us in an orange and purple glow. We all piled out as soon as the car was parked in front of the McManus manor and I nodded towards Bryan, Ash, and Roger.

“You three hang back in the foyer in case the brothers don’t want all of us in the meeting,” I said while clicking the safety on my gun before stuffing it in my back waistband.

While Ash and Bryan agreed, both double-checking their weapons, Roger on the other hand made his distaste for my orders known with a low scowl.

“All due respect, Noah,” he began.

I adjusted the peaky hat on my head and raised a brow. “Is there a problem, Roger?”

He shifted on his feet. “I’ve been the recruit for six months now, don’t you think I worked up being involved in one of these meetings?”

I bit the inside of my cheek to my snarky remark to myself but Folio was quick to respond in my place.

“Kid, calm down. It took Bryan six years to work up the ranks. Ash, it took him ten years.”

Roger gaped at the two of them who seemed to have played along with Folio’s joke and agreed with a nod.

“Can I atleast get a gun?” He outstretched his arms. “You guys are sending me into the warzone with no weapon!”

“It’s only a warzone if you make it one,” Ash said.

“No weapons for recruits,” I said.

Not wanting to waste any more time out here, I led the group of us up the crumbling steps and came to a stop in front of the door. Motioning to Roger, I waited for him to ring the bell, and glanced around the vast grounds of the McManus estate while stuffing my hands deep into the pockets of my black peacoat.

“Nervous?”

Peering to my left, I nodded to Nicholas. “A bit.”

He clapped my shoulder. “Let’s keep our questions short. Try to get the info we need then we can leave.”

“Yeah,” Folio agreed while shivering. “This place gives me the creeps. It looks like it's days away from caving in.”

Glancing up at the old brick mansion, I had to agree with him. It looked as if neither of the McManus brothers bothered to keep up with the maintenance of the home and the overgrown grass on the other side of the driveway was proof of that.

Suddenly the front door opened with an eerie creaking and all of our eyes met with an older lady with a head full of white curls.

“Yes?”

I stepped forward. “My name is Noah Sebastian. OMNS has a meeting with the brothers.”

Her brown eyes shifted between all of us before she slowly stepped to the side, letting us all pile inside the grand manor. While the outside needed some work, the inside was marvelous with expensive pieces of art and not a speck of dust anywhere.

“My name is Dorthea. I will let the brothers know you’re here,” she said with a thick Irish accent.

Movement from the corner of my eye caught my attention and when I gazed up at the top of the stairs landing, all of my breath left my soul when those familiar hazel eyes met mine. All of the hairs not only on the back of my neck but on my arms stood straight with the buzz of electricity that shot through me when I noticed her eyes double in size. The brightness of her gaze struck a chord in my heart, playing a soft melody that only the two of us could hear.

It had been a long while since I’d seen her last but fuck, she still looked absolutely breathtaking like she did the night of high school graduation.

Her hair was deeper red than the last time we saw each other, now it cascaded down her back, and when she outstretched her arms on the wooden banister, her head tilted to the side in a way to assess all of these strangers in her home.

Although four of us weren’t strangers to her. We all went to high school together even though she wouldn’t remember us. She was always with the group of kids that were rich, too good to be seen with the bottom dwellers like us.

I removed my hat to hand it to Roger to hold onto it then shook out my hair from my eyes before slicking it back and I could have sworn I heard someone’s breath catch in their throat.

“Noah Sebastian, standing here in my house. I must say, I almost didn’t recognize you without the long hair.”

Well, shit.

“Saoirse McManus,” I hummed in response to her sarcastic tone.

A low scowl pulled on her lips before she pushed herself away from the banister and quickly scurried down the hall, disappearing around the corner.

It was almost bittersweet seeing her again after all this time. While I wish it had been under better circumstances, I knew that I couldn’t allow myself to get wrapped up in Saoirse McManus; not again. I had built an empire since dropping out of high school and I couldn’t let anything tear it down, especially a silly little crush.

It never was a silly crush. It was always more than that. You’re just bitter that she never felt the same.

Why would she ever have feelings for me? In her eyes and her financial stature, OMNS were nobodies; the gum on the bottom of their shoe. While they ran their empire up in the rich estates of the wealthy, we ran ours in the slums of the Concrete Jungle. There may have been a point in my life when I wanted to be in the same stature as her but now having earned my wealth, I realized that all I needed was my brothers.

Bullshit.

If that were the case, seeing her tonight wouldn’t have taken my breath away and cock twitched with such a dire need for her.

“What was that about her not remembering you?” Jolly asked.

I ran a hand over my mouth. “I didn’t think she would.”

“Hey,” Roger’s head popped in between Jolly and I. “That’s the daughter, right? You know, rumors are going around the CJ that she’s the one that killed Vincent.”

My eyes sliced into him and Jolly had to press a hand to my chest to keep me from wrapping my hands around his throat.

“The CJ?” I spat out through a clenched jaw.

Roger swallowed thickly. “Yeah. The Concrete Jungle. I thought you would understand the nickname since you were the one who created the Concrete Jungle. I spend a lot of time in the tunnels with groups of guys who tell stories of OMNS success. Why do you think I wanted to join so badly?”

“Do me a favor, kid. Stop lingering in the underground parts of the jungle because you don’t know what dwells underneath there. You don’t want to find yourself in a situation you can’t sweet talk your way out of,” I said.

“What?” He let out an airy chuckle. “Are you hiding a tank full of sirens? Or creating your own artificial intelligence?”

With a dark look filling my eyes, I gave him a smirk before giving him my back when I heard the faint footsteps of Dorthea returning.

“Just the Japanese and Swiss,” she pointed to us.

Jolly let out a groan. “I’m Swedish.”

“Follow me,” she hooked a finger at us, ignoring Jolly.

Giving the rest of my brothers a nod, we followed Dorthea down a long wide hallway, and I took in the sight of all the pictures lining the wall, noticing that they were family pictures of the McManus family.

The first picture was of the man who started it all over one hundred years ago, Cillian McManus. It continued for a long while until Fergal’s familiar face caught my eyes, followed by his son, then Connor, then Murphy with his wife and Saiorse.

Coming to a brief stop, I studied the picture for a long moment, before Jolly pulled me along.

“The brothers are allowing you five minutes of their time,” Dorthea informed as we stopped in front of a set of double doors and her hands wrapped around the golden knobs.

“How generous,” I grumbled under my breath just before the door opened.

Inside was a huge library/office combo. Three out of four of the walls were just bookshelves full of books, the smell of old literature tickling my nose. Thick black carpet covered almost every inch of the floor and in the center of the room were two long burgundy couches that sat horizontally to an old fireplace that was blazing with hot flames. I felt the warmth on my face when Jolly and I stepped inside.

On either couch sat the brothers, both having a glass dangling from their fingers, and their hushed conversation seized when they noticed our presence.

“Ah,” the taller one with shorter hair muttered as he slowly stood to his feet and extended his free hand toward me. “You must be Noah. An acquaintance of mine said I’d be expecting you. I’m Conner.”

After we shook hands, Connor motioned to the other man on the couch, who still had yet to stand up. “That is my twin brother Murphy.”

Giving him a curt nod, I clasped my hands behind my back. “This is Joakim. We won’t take much of your time. But we do have one question to ask.”

While Murphy muttered something in Irish under his breath, Connor urged me to ask.

“About six months ago, a dear friend of ours Vincent Riquier was murdered, his body being left on the doorstep of my tattoo shop. I had some intel point me in the direction of someone in the Irish family.”

Connor's brow raised as he took a small drink of his amber liquid. “Are you saying we had something to do with it?”

Jolly shook his head. “Not at all. We were just wondering if you could let us know if our intel was correct since it came from one of your men.”

This caused Murphy to snap his head towards us and brushed away the long hair from his face; blue eyes boring into us. “One of our men?”

“Barry,” I said flatly. “Movie star looks. Although, I must say that was before.”

The twins shared a look before Murphy rose to his feet with a roar. “You killed him?”

I stood toe to toe with him, not showing him an ounce of fear because I knew guys like this could smell it.

“Never said I did,” I answered with a shrug.

“Imigh leat,” Murphy waved a hand in my face before turning on his feet to face the fireplace.

Connor let out a displeased noise at his brother before giving Jolly and me a tight smile, the lines in his face creasing. “You must ignore my brother, he just argued with his daughter before you arrived.”

Saoirse’s face crept into my mind but I did my best to push away those feelings. I couldn’t give away my feelings for her; the ones that stayed buried for so long.

“Again with this foolish dream of opening an animal rehab facility. Why she wants to work when she has all the money I can give her if she just stays here is beyond my thinking,” Murphy muttered after downing the rest of his drink, slamming the cup on the table next to the couch.

“About Barry,” Connor ignored his brother while stuffing his hands in the pockets of his dress pants. “If you did kill him, one less thing for us to worry about. He was a pain in our arses anyway.”

“So then, as a token, you’ll give us the direction we need to look into for our friend's death,” Jolly tried while scratching the facial hair on his chin.

With Connor’s silence, his gaze locked in on us with his hand on the holster on his hip, and Murphy’s back still to us, I nodded towards Jolly, who understood and we bid the brothers goodbye.

“Thank you for your time,” I said before ushering Jolly outside of the room before me.

Once we were back in the solitude of the hallway, we rushed back to the foyer with a burning feeling at the back of my neck. Something wasn’t right, their silence told us way too much and I needed to get far away from here.

“Something doesn’t feel right,” Jolly noted.

I agreed with a low rumble in my chest, placing my hat back on. “I know. They were quick to dismiss us and I didn’t like how Connor reached for his gun.”

Hearing our footsteps echo loudly on the marble floor, Bryan glanced up from his phone with furrowed brows.

“That was quick.”

“We’ll discuss it in the car,” I said while ushering everyone outside quickly.

One by one we all piled out of the house and before I stepped through the threshold, I dared a glance back up to the stairs landing, hoping to catch sight of her but instead, I locked eyes with two large guards who had their guns in their grasp.

“Boss, this doesn't make sense,” Roger turned swiftly on his heels and blocked me.

“Roger, not now,” I said sternly. “Get to the car. Now.”

“All these rumors, they had to start somewhere,” he continued to ramble on.

I backhanded his chest and then threw a thumb over my shoulder to the men who were now descending the grand staircase. Finally, when Roger noticed them, he scrambled out the door, me swiftly following behind him.

All of us gathered around the SUV to discuss what our next plan of action would be. There were other Irish families I could talk with but they all had connections to the McManus brothers so they wouldn’t give me anything.

As I was chatting with Nicholas, Roger began pacing in front of the car, running a hand through his hair.

“What’s his problem?” Nicholas mumbled to me.

“He thinks the brothers are hiding something,” I informed him while shrugging. “I must admit, I feel the same. They were too closed off in there. And the way those guards were staring at me, I swore they were looking for a fight.”

“In retaliation for Barry?”

“Could be,” I ran a hand over my chin. “Or they don’t appreciate us showing up tonight. Either way, we need to get out of here.”

Everyone began loading into the SUV, besides Roger, who was still pacing.

“Roger, get in,” I demanded from behind the driver's door.

"They're a bunch of liars. all of them. I bet you that broad upstairs knows something.”

All I saw was read for a few moments before I realized that I had Roger pinned to the hood of the car by his throat, my tattooed fingers cutting off his oxygen. Strands of my hair fell into my eyes but I made no effort to let up my grip.

“Watch how you speak about her,” I spit out.

Roger’s eyes were white as he struggled to fight me, his nails digging into the skin of my wrist.

“Shit,” Ash muttered while scrambling out of the car to wrap his arms around my chest, trying to pull me away. “Let him go, Noah. You’re going to kill him.”

With an effortless grunt, I tossed Roger to the ground and did my best to fix my hair when Ash let me go as the front door of the manor opened; Saiorse walked out with the two guards following closely behind her.

She paid us no mind as she trotted down the steps and began walking the opposite way of us. Glancing at my watch, I noticed that it was 8 p.m.

“The only time she leaves is at 8 o'clock for her nightly walks.” Barry’s words from earlier rang in my ears.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” I grumbled while adjusting my jacket.

Roger quickly scrambled to his feet and when he finally noticed the two guards who had stopped walking to watch us with careful eyes, something switched in Roger’s mind. My jaw began to drop when I saw him reach for something underneath his shirt, my next words came out slow, almost inebriated.

“Roger, no!”

The sound of gunfire erupted, and all of us dropped to our knees around the car for some sort of protection. Bullets ricochet off of the car, one nearly missing my forehead as it blew the hat clear off my head. I strangled out a vacant cry while pressing my body closer to the car. My heart was beating widely in my chest and my hands shook but I didn’t have time to dwell on almost dying, I needed to stop this before it became worse than it already was.

“Mother fucker!”

Glancing over my shoulder, I cursed when I saw Folio go down to the ground clutching his thigh, his gun skidding halfway down the long driveway. I crawled over to him, keeping my head down when I noticed that a couple more McManus guards had emerged from inside and now we were outnumbered; seven to nine.

Blood oozed out from the wound on Folio’s thigh and I grabbed a handful of his shirt, ripping a large piece from it.

“You’re alright; just a flesh wound,” I reassured him while fixing the makeshift tourniquet.

“Where the hell did Roger find a gun?” Folio asked through clenched teeth when I squeezed too hard on his wound to stop the bleeding.

“I’m about to find out,” I patted his cheek before ripping my gun from behind my pants and clicked off the safety.

Using the open door of the SUV as a shield, I peered around it to see that four guards were lying dead on the ground, two were hiding behind the pillars of the manor for their own protection, and one was coming towards us.

Firing off two rounds, both hitting the mark of the guard's chest, I watched him crumble to the ground and then gave a sharp whistle towards Jolly who was firing his weapon in the car through the shot-out back windshield.

“Two on the porch!” I yelled over the sounds of gunfire.

Jolly nodded and I gave him protection against the other two guards who were firing their weapons from behind a bush, he snuck up to the two guards hiding on the porch, their lives ending before they even noticed him.

Now the numbers were in our favor so slowly rising to my feet, I stepped out from my shield and called out to the last two McManus guards.

“You’re not walking out of this alive!”

“Imeacht go fánach ort féin is ar do chnapán miúlach!” A deep voice rumbled out from behind the bus.

A flash of red caught my attention and I forgot for a moment that Saoirse was outside when the shootout began. I could hear my heart in my ears with worry if she’d been hit but when I saw her slowly rise to her feet due to one of the guards pushing her to farther safety, I breathed a little.

Until a gun went off to my left and with sharp eyes, I watched as the bullet hit Saoirse in the arm, blood splattering against the fading white paint of the house.

“Bitch! That’s for Vincent!” Roger bellowed his victory.

I let out a vicious growl as I tackled him to the ground, laying fist after fist into his face. Poor kid never saw me coming and gave no fight against me. By the time I finished, my knuckles were broken and raw, covered in not only my blood but his as well. Roger’s face was a mangled mess as he rolled over to his side, spitting out chunks of spit mixed with blood. For a final measure, I laid a swift kick to his stomach making sure he wouldn’t get up for a while. Through the white noise in my brain, I did my best to calm my breathing when I gazed over my shoulder to the carnage that lay in our wake; all thanks to Roger’s trigger finger.

Besides Folio, all of my men were unharmed and it seemed as if Folio would be fine. However, out of nine McManus guards, only two remain. One held something to Saoirse’s arm while the other tossed his gun to the ground, showing us he surrendered.

“Is she alright?” I called out to them.

“Fuck you, Noah!” She spat, eyes almost as red with fury as the color of her hair.

Yeah, she was fine.

Through the eerie silence of the night air, I watched as the front door carefully opened then both the McManus brothers stepped into the carnage.

“Saoirse!” Murphy’s voice boomed.

“She’s over here!” The one guard who was tending to her wound called out while pulling them out from behind the bushes.

I sucked in a breath when I saw all the blood staining the gray long sleeve of her sweater as the guard quickly whisked her inside, her father right on her tail. The look of pure hatred was on Connor’s face as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Whose bullet hit my niece?” He asked.

I pointed to the broken body of Roger, who was still struggling to rise to his feet. “I’ll take care of him, I promise you.”

Conner gave a curt nod before hooking his finger in my direction. “You. By yourself. Now.”

Licking my lips, I nodded and handed over my gun to Ash, who looked at me with bewilderment in his eyes.

“Are you insane?” He demanded. “You can’t go in there by yourself.”

“If they wanted me dead, I would be,” I said with more reassurance in my voice than I was feeling.

Giving a soft smile to the rest of my men, letting them know I’d be fine, I stepped back inside the manor with Conner close behind.

SCARLETT

“What the fuck!” I screamed while pushing myself away from the table, but hissing as pain shot through my arm.

The doctor we had on standby informed me that it was merely a flesh wound I suffered and closed it up with a few stitches and some pills for the pain.

“Watch your tongue,” my father warned while not looking away from his plate of food.

“You just told me that I’m supposed to marry Noah Sebastian! How the fuck can I watch my tongue?! This is absurd! You can’t make that decision for me.”

He pushed away his plate with a sigh and then steepled his fingers together. “I can because I am your father. And for the price of peace, I couldn’t deny his offer.”

I nearly fell back into my seat at the dining room table. “His offer? This was his idea?”

My Uncle Conner nodded. “That man is quite the negotiator. He didn’t want any more bloodshed and for a truce, he asked for your hand in marriage; we agreed on one condition.”

“Oh, I can't wait to hear what this condition was,” I placed my hand on my hip. “Does he want a baby in a year? Do I have to abide by his command? Am I to be locked away in a castle for the rest of my life?”

“Far from that,” my father lit his cigar, puffing the smoke into the air. “We agreed that you can marry him as long as he kill the man that shot you.”

My eyes widened. “The kid? Fucking hell, dad! He can’t be more than twenty years old!”

“Then he shouldn’t have been involved in a game that was designed for men!” My father’s fist slammed on the aged oak of the table.

I didn’t even flinch, being so used to his outbursts like this. Instead, I fought back harder against this offer.

“What about Cory?” I questioned.

“Who?” My father’s thick brows furrowed as the age lines in his forehead creased.

“The boyfriend,” my uncle informed him while swirling the ice cubes around in his cup.

My father did a double take. “How the fuck do you know?”

“Fuck you, I know shit,” he shrugged.

“Very well,” my father sighed. “It’s not like this relationship would have worked out anyway. You will end it and move in with Noah by Friday.”

“FRIDAY?!” I screeched. “That’s in two days!”

“The wedding will be at the end of the month,” my uncle informed me.

Too much information had been thrown at me all at once and I pinched the bridge of my nose to keep myself from crying. I typically wasn’t a crier but from the moment I laid my eyes on Noah Sebastian in the foyer of my home, all of my old feelings came rushing in like a tidal wave and I still didn’t have time to process that.

“If I say no to this deal?” I shot back.

Neither my uncle nor father said anything, simply motioned to the guns that lay next to their plates. Now, I knew they didn’t mean they would kill me. Instead, they would kill Noah and every last mother fucker who had anything to do with tonight.

“This is unbelievable!” I yelled while throwing my hands up and storming my way up the stairs to my bedroom.

The sound of my door slamming shook the old bones of the manor and I yanked the ends of my hair with a scream. I despised not only this life but also the fact that I couldn’t do anything about this arrangement. Not when the lives of innocents were on the line.

Innocents? They shot you!

Shaking the thought from my mind, I fell back onto my bed with a groan. It was easy to tell that the kid was the one that started the unnecessary gunfight. Noah was only doing what he could to protect his people.

Those gorgeous almond eyes haunted me for years, plaguing my entire existence since I first saw them freshman year of high school. I never could do anything about it, however, knowing that we ran in different circles and it was forbidden. His family ran the slums while mine ran the prestige wealth.

The last I saw of Noah or any of those guys was the night of high school graduation. While Noah dropped out three months before, the rest of his friends walked across the stage and he was there for support. Our eyes locked across the vast space of the room. His hair was long but pulled back into a high bun, showcasing the sharpness of his cheekbones as he gave me a gentle smile. Of course, I had to ignore the pull of my heart strings, no matter how strong they were.

If someone had told a teenage me that now, eight years later, I’d be marrying that man who captured my heart so long ago, I’d laugh in their face.

Running a hand over my face, I sat up in bed and quickly dialed Cory’s number so I could deliver the news. On the eighth ring, he answered almost breathlessly.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” I played with the ends of my hair. “Do you have a minute to talk?”

There was some rustling on his end before his breath came through. “I suppose.”

Ignoring the tone, I took a deep inhale to prepare myself for breaking the news to him. “There’s no easy way to say this. But my father just informed me that he arranged a marriage for me. I have to move in with the guy on Friday. I tried to fight it, tried to fight for us, but I didn’t have a choice. It’s something I have to do.”

There was a very long beat of silence on Cory’s end before his voice broke through. “Ok. Thanks for letting me know.”

My heart dropped to the pits of my stomach. “W-what? That’s it?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Scarlett? You said it yourself, you don’t have a choice in this. Why fight for something that has no end in sight?”

I bit down on the inside of my cheek hard to not snap at him but eventually failed.

“You know, you’re right. What’s the fucking point,” I seethed.

Before I could hang up on him, I heard the click and stared down in disbelief at my now black screen.

“What a piece of shit!” I bellowed while tossing my phone onto my bed.

My knee bounced in anger, that conversation adding more fuel to the fire, and as much as I wanted to scream out my frustrations I knew that it would be futile. Instead, I dragged my feet into the large walk-in closet and began packing up things that I knew I would need in my new life.

NOAH

Wiping away the blood from my rings, I stepped into the lobby of the quiet tattoo shop and noticed Nicholas closing up his section.

“How’d it go tonight?” I wondered after tossing the rag into the bag he had opened.

The one we planned on burning anyway so any evidence would be gone in the flames.

“Slow night but those aren’t bad every once in a while,” he answered before motioning to the door I previously walked through. “All finished?”

“Yeah, Jolly and Folio are cleaning it up. This one was messier than I would have liked. I’ll admit, the kid put up a hell of a fight,” I said while leaning against the wall with crossed arms.

The tattooed muscles in my forearms flexed.

“Did he say where he found the gun?”

“Bought it off of someone on the street before we left that night. Apparently, he had a feeling I wouldn’t allow him to have one and he felt like he needed protection,” I informed Nicholas.

Who, in turn, snorted while packing up his tattoo gun. “A lot of good it did.”

My lips parted to speak but with the sound of the bell dinging above the door, revealing that someone had stepped inside.

“Sorry, we’re closed,” the words died in my throat when I saw who walked inside.

Her hair was pulled back into a tight braid, her green eyes standing out amongst everything else about her. She carried two suitcases behind her and one large duffel bag on her shoulder.

“Hi,” I said while standing straight up.

All of the breath inside of me left me with a whoosh of air as the excitement of our arrangement finally filled me. When I first brought up the idea to the McManus brothers, I fully expected them to deny it. Much to my surprise, they agreed almost immediately with the exception that I take care of Roger, as promised.

Not even an hour after sending the picture to Murphy, his daughter was standing in front of me; bags in tow.

“Hi?” Saoirse scowled. “Do you know what the fuck I had to go through to get here? The number of times I had to circle the building to find somewhere to park? Two blocks away. Not to mention, how many homeless people stopped me along the way to ask for either money or drugs? And all you can say is hi?”

Biting my lip at my smile, I walked over to the receptionist's desk to rest my elbows on it.

“Are you finished?” I teased with a playful gleam in my eyes.

She scoffed, appalled. “Am I finished? No, Noah. Far fucking from it. How dare you bid for my life without my consent? This isn’t the 1900’s where this was a common thing! I have a say in who I should marry!”

“Then why are you here?”

Saoirse pursed her lips and when I realized she had nothing to say back, I pushed off the counter to close the distance between us, my height towering over her.

“Let’s get one thing straight. I didn’t pay for you. I don’t plan on holding you prisoner here. You have a say with anything and everything however to keep the peace from stumbling into my empire, if I had to arrange for your life, you bet your fucking ass I would do.”

Her lips mimicked a fish and when her shoulders slumped in defeat, I held out my hand to her. “Keys.”

“Excuse me?” She raised a brow.

“Give me your keys. OMNS Legacy Villas has underground parking. There’s already a reserved spot for you,” I informed her.

Shoving the keys in my hand, she sliced her eyes into me. “If it says Saoirse, change it.”

I quickly tossed the keys to Nicholas, who understood and slipped out of the shop to retrieve her car.

“Change it?” I repeated her words.

“The only people who call me that are my father and uncle. Everyone else calls me Scarlett,” she tossed her bags on the ground at my feet before crossing her arms over her black sweater.

This sass that fell from her blood-stained lips made me want to toss her onto the counter, rip off that sweater, and attack every inch of her skin with my teeth but I refrained. Instead, I brushed a hand through my hair and smiled.

“Scarlett it is.”

Scarlett glanced out the large window in front of the shop, watching as people walked past, every single one of them dealing with something in their own lives. The trash that littered the street was figuratively and literally. I had to admit that when I first opened up my empire here, the slums were extremely bad but with my help and funding, the streets had been cleaned up immensely; with a few stranglers still lurking around.

Especially in the underground.

“I don’t understand how you live here. The homeless, the drug deals, and the illegal activities I saw walking in here. It’s disgusting,” she shivered.

I stood next to her now, stuffing my hands in the back pockets of my pants. “Welcome to the Concrete Jungle, Scarlett.”

She turned her head up to me as I bent low towards her, my warm breath fanning those beautiful lips. “Where I’m the fucking king.”

#noah sebastian #bad omens #noah sebastian x ofc #mafiaboss!noah sebastian #tattooartist!noah sebastian #the coyotes cry noah sebastian #noah sebastian fan fictions

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denimbex1986 · 11 months ago

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'...Outstanding British film

Gant: I’ve been chatting to some of these nominated filmmakers, and people reckon Poor Things has the strongest chance of winning. There is some question about how British that film is. In Emma Stone’s pre-filmed acceptance speech at the London Critics’ Film Awards, she seemed to emphasise the film’s Britishness by paying tribute to the British and Irish crew and department heads. That led to a certain amount of eye-rolling from other British filmmakers afterwards. All Of Us Strangers is a fantastic film, an incontestably British film, and I’d love to see it win.

Halligan: All Of Us Strangers might surprise us and win because there’s a sense of shock, disappointment and sadness that Andrew Scott didn’t get a leading actor nomination. That might further motivate people to support it.

Mueller: I feel like Poor Things has the edge in this category, but I would not be surprised to see Saltburn or All Of Us Strangers pull off an upset. The Zone Of Interest is an interesting one, because in every category it’s facing up against some other strong contenders, so I wonder how people will look to recognise that film. Maybe people rally behind it here — and also sound.

Best actress, actor, supporting actress and supporting actor

Gant: For leading actor you’ve got a number of first-time nominees. Cillian Murphy has only been Bafta-nominated before for rising star, and a TV Bafta. Colman Domingo and Teo Yoo are first-time nominees and surprisingly so is Paul Giamatti — he was not nominated for Sideways.

Mueller: This category smacks me in the face because I still can’t get over Andrew Scott not being here. It’s an awful omission. So I want to put a protest vote in for Scott in this category. Of the actual nominees, I feel like Oppenheimer has a lot of momentum, and Cillian has so many fans, both for the film but also for his whole career including on TV. I also love Paul Giamatti and he really brings The Holdovers together: he’s so fantastically funny and affecting and full of pathos at the same time.

Halligan: I wish Andrew Scott was in, but that’s not to diminish Cillian or Paul who are my two favourites among the nominees.

Tutt: The other missing person from this category for me is Jeffrey Wright from American Fiction. The film was woefully overlooked throughout all these nominations. But I would be amazed if Cillian doesn’t win this.

Tutt: Robert Downey Jr has to be the favourite in supporting actor. Nobody’s taking that off him.

Mueller: For me these are the two categories where at the end of the season, we all say, “Of course, it was always going to be Da’Vine Joy Randolph and Robert Downey Jr. There was never going to be anybody else.”

Gant: These look like two categories where Oscar and Bafta will match up. Da’Vine, if you love The Holdovers, this is where you can rally around the flag. Emily Blunt is apparently considered the strongest competition to Da’Vine among Ampas voters…

Tutt: I think Emily could cause an upset — if there’s an Oppenheimer sweep. I thought she was really good in the role.

Gant: Supporting actor — ...I do think Ryan was gifted the most interesting part in Barbie, his character had this amazing arc. Greta Gerwig and Noah Baumbach were very generous in what they handed to him. But also Paul Mescal for All Of Us Strangers, I don’t count him out. People upset about Andrew Scott might rally to Paul, and it’s an incredible performance.

Mueller: People might say the person who should be winning for this film was Andrew Scott. Would they want to then single out another performance that isn’t the one that powers this film and makes it so extraordinary?

Original and adapted screenplay

Mueller: In adapted screenplay, I know we’re talking about Oppenheimer having the momentum and possibly doing a big sweep, but I could see Andrew Haigh scoring for All Of Us Strangers. And you can’t rule out Poor Things...'

#BAFTAs #Robert Downey Jr.#Emily Blunt #Cillian Murphy #Oppenheimer #Da'Vine Joy Randolph #The Holdovers #Andrew Haigh #Andrew Scott #All of Us Strangers #Paul Mescal

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coco-bean-1218 · 1 year ago

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Thank you for the tag @merriell-allesandro-shelton

Twenty Questions for Fic Writers

How many works do you have on AO3?

Just 1 WIP.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

735.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

As of right now, just Band of Brothers.

4. What are your top 5 pics by kudos?

Just the one WIP.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or Why not?

Yes!! I love getting comments, it means the world to me!

6. What is a fic you wrote that has the angstiest ending?

Well-Behaved Women Never Make History is just angsty as a whole.

7. What is a fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Well-Behaved Women Never Make History should(?) have a happy ending.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not so far. Although, it's one of my worries about writing and why it took me so long to do so.

9. Do you write smut?

I haven't yet, but I don't think I'd be very good at it.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I don't know if these count, but WBWNMH is a crossover of Midway 2019 and by that, I mean that Noah is in the same unit as the pilots in Midway, so in a way it is. I also have thought of one with Night at The Museum where Claire's story is an exhibit at the museum.

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

No.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, but it sounds fun!

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

I have so many, so I'll pick it randomly: Claire/Grant Winnix

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

It's more of an idea than a WIP, but the Night at The Museum crossover.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Nothing. I'd say dialogue.

17. What are your writing weakness?

Finding the motivation and setting the scene/characters' actions and behaviors.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

WBWNMH will feature small bits of dialogue in French, Irish Gaelic, possibly German, and possibly Polish.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

In 8th grade, me and my friend wrote a little Queen story and never finished it 💀

20. Favorite fic you've written?

I only have 1, so I guess that's the answer.

#wbwnmh #well behaved women never make history #band of brothers oc #i love my mutuals #tag games

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halfmyfault · 2 years ago

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he didn't mean to stop their move up the small secret hallway, he just sort of did. a small smile on his lips, as he frowned, "no, i," she was always making him stumble a little over himself, "they are brown." was his small soft confession. sounding a lot more vulnerable in the secrecy of the hidden passage. "people don't usually notice brown eyes." his breathing was ragged, he realized then, she was too close. he could kiss her. he didn't know why he didn't. "hm, er, thanks. come on."

a few more step forward, a little hidden door and they were there, inside his bedroom. "welcome to my humble abode, my lady." much like the rest of the house, it had the sort of ample space that could only really be found alongside too much wealth. unlike the rest of the house, however, there was something different about noah's room. it felt lived in. the rest of was house was too perfectly organized, too well cleaned. the moment one of the roosevelts left the place, someone came in to clean after them. it gave the uncanny impression that they were all just passing by, not so much residents of the house as much as they were ghosts. throwing pebbles in a pool too big for the ripples to matter. it was all perfect, gold, beautiful, large, cleaned, fixed. noah's room, however, it was a thing of the present, an image of the now. like he had just been there or never really left.

one large california king size took place in the middle of the room, while the rest of the place roared with noah's presence. it was not for lack of size that it looked disorganized, it was for the over display of clutter. like he had had too many things to ever find a place to put them all in. a desk on the corner with a computer and three screens, and a laptop, a professional camera. near a gaming set up and a large tv and scorpion chairs. a collection of instruments on the other side of the room, two acoustic guitars, an electric one, a keyboard, an ukulele, an electric drum set a soundboard too big to genuinely be useful for one person only. a little cluster of sofas in front of his bed, pointed to the wall where a pause screen was being projected to. a ceiling, far above them, made of windows only, out towards the night skies. it was all noah. it gave the genuine impression that noah was trying to fit the entire house there, the music room, the gaming room, the solarium, the cinema. except it was a smaller version of it. one that was just his. "you like it?" his smile insecure, needy, like he was somehow responsible for it, like it was part of him and he wanted nothing more than for her to approve of it too. "we got a little cinema here." noah pointed forward. "if you wanna, like, watch something."

"there wouldn't be any drama if they were around, baby." richard chuckled, softly, "theo would never look thaddeus in the eyes again if noah was reacting the way sasha did. the good thing, however, is that noah would never react the way sasha did." another small laugh muffled as he pulled her in for another kiss. he could do this for hours, just stand there, talk to her, kiss her, how ridiculous was that? "i say fuck it, honestly. let the nasha ship sink." it was obvious of course he meant the nash and sasha situationship, like she was in on the joke he had made up with theo and nate already. "the only person that doesn't know nash doesn't like her like that is nash. something had to blow those two up, otherwise nash might end up dating her, just not to hurt her." and there wasn't a doubt in his mind that his brother would actually do it, there was so very little nash wouldn't do to make sure other people didn't end up hurt, sometimes it was hard to know if he was even doing anything at all for himself. "i like the irish bloke. pal? cunt? i don't know what irish people call each other." richard laughed. and then his arm around her waist, pulling her up just so he could sit her down atop the billiard table and step between her legs, returning once again to the kisses. "you make it sound so simple, you just might be right."

"noah, i am five foot nothing," she giggled as they crossed through the passage, just as decorated as the previous room, but no where near as beautiful as the images decorating the walls of his bedroom once they had made it through to the other side. pennyshore's eyes widened when he asked about being in his room last time, of course they hadn't visited his room then, she would certainly have remembered if they had. "no, we didn't." she said, all of the sudden quite bashful. she was hyperaware that she had never been in anyone's room, certainly not a guy's room.

she looked around the room before focusing back on him. "i've been to two parties, noah. a bunch of people drinking and playing beer pong, and this party. i think they were equally strange. the funny thing is that this is closer to what my idea of parties looked like when i was little, reading jane austen and the bronte sisters. dressing up is fun, there might be just as much drama, and i am here with you. stranger, maybe, but that doesn't mean it's not the most fun i have had at a party." pennyshore said with a gentle shrug, eyes trained on his. "has everyone ever told you how pretty your eyes are, noah?" she asked, brows pulled together.

graceland leaned into his touch, a bright grin on her lips as he pulled her in. "the cutest, at least they missed the start of the drama." she nodded, but the words were lost as soon as richard's lips found his neck, trailing up in the most distracted way. a soft moan, almost a whine really slipped out as his teeth grazed her ear, distracting, as he so frequently was. "is it really so bad if we stick together?" it was likely, he didn't seem to be kidding about just how much things could turn to chaos, but she liked to believe that things could be made together by going through it together. and, the beautiful dress she was wearing certainly helped her feel like she could take anything. she was fairly certain she had never felt this beautiful before. confidence could do wonders.

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eirikrjs · 2 years ago

Note

In a semi-recent post about getting into megaten, you talked about how were particularly drawn to the Tain and Cu Chulainn. What's the main quality of Mythology that interests you? And why is Cu Chulainn on of your favorite demons?

Well, it appealed to me in a very personal way. Again, the class I took was on Norse and Irish myth. It ended up being a transformative one.

I remember being generally aware of Norse myth beforehand. I was already a fan of Odin, though mostly through Final Fantasy's. Really, FF explains my general awareness (or lack thereof) of myth at the time, but it enabled me to be receptive enough to want to learn more.

I was also Christian. This is only relevant because I remember being offended by anti-Christian jokes made by the professor of a philosophy class I had taken but dropped the previous semester, lol. I wasn't devout or anything, it was just somehow part of the identity I accepted for myself. Looking back, it was quite odd and superficial.

I enjoyed the Eddas, which were about what I expected. But I had no expectations for the following Irish unit, which was mostly the Tain. At first I made fun of it and pointed the weirdness and "plot holes" (like Cu Chulainn's multiple births). This was, of course, the wrong approach, as you can't take myths literally. It didn't take long to learn.

It was around Cu Chulainn's training with Scathach that it began to click with me. I was able to connect Cu Chulainn's character to heroes I knew from video games. His salmon leap was like an FF Dragoon's Jump, and he slaughtered armies like he was a Dynasty Warrior. I kid you not, these associations were important for my comprehension at the time and maybe others can relate.

But then there was my absent father, who has been dead for over three years now. I knew he was Irish (-American) because my mom would make fun of him using Irish stereotypes, lol. Nonetheless, that's who I am and there was always a void there that was filled by discovering Cu Chulainn as this Irish thing that had nothing to do with getting drunk or leprechauns. It was like I went through a Jungian individuation, as I suddenly felt like a whole person.

The following summer I did nothing but read myth books I could find from the local library. Mostly introductory stuff, like these picture books. Learning about all the older ANE flood myths that inspired Noah killed my faith and I've been an atheist since. I read Joseph Campbell as well since I recognized his name from Star Wars books and documentaries. Dude sure liked to talk about the chakras and due to that, I recognized their names in the Digital Devil Saga OST I downloaded as part of a batch later in the year. Sahasrara, Muladhara, et al. sounded pretty good so I decided maybe I should go all-in on the available SMT stuff after all.

So Cu Chulainn is a personal symbol of maturation to me. I didn't even enjoy reading before discovering myth, then all of a sudden it was all I wanted to do. I think recognizing reflections of yourself in myths is the secret to sparking enthusiasm and passion for the subject.

#cu chulainn #tain bo cuailnge #mythology #final fantasy #odin #digital devil saga #megaten #stealing knowledge #smt

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dreamermoonshine · 3 years ago

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It's Gonna Be Alright❤

Now United Dream The Next Level Episode 18 - Now United Dream Encounter Brazil Part 1

A/N: This Now United song it made of guitars, percussion and bass guitar which I played the bass we did some radio sessions in Radio Disney Brazil.

Before the radio session live with Radio Disney Brazil I got a quick video phone call to Victoria to see any advice for any Radio sesh just like me.

Y/N: Vic, I don't get it with this Radio sesh can you give some advice about it?

Victoria(on the videocall): I know, it's very easy but I did with some with the boys after X Factor, before Sanremo and Eurovision we did some sessions and interviews we did some before and after the our gigs for the over past year with the boys as for you being doing the radio sessions I'm sure you gonna to be just fine.

Y/N: Aww, that's so sweet of you my blue eyes danish/italian babe

Victoria(on a videocall): Aww thanks sweetheart kisses 💋

Y/N: I love you too Vic (I kiss her on the phone) anyways I send you the link into your phone or you had to tune in to Radio Disney Brazil Instagram later and I have a surpise for you!!!

Victoria: I can't wait what time?

Y/N(on a videocall): It be start at 3pm BST and brazilan time is 11am make sure you tune in ok babe

Victoria: Yah im really look for to it.

Any open the door to get Y/N is ready for soundcheck.

Any: Y/N are you ready to go

Y/N: i be down in a bit, anyways I had to go now we have sound check we had to prepare for live are u busy for a bit?

Victoria(on a videocall): you know about live on Radio Disney I won't be watching because we are recording our new song for the 5th album but you had to listen when you come back to the dorm from Brazil and I promise I will listen to your track.

Y/N: Bummer, I hope you had an enjoy recording so.. Yah I'm looking forward to hear it ok, I had to go babe say Hi to the Cats and Chili for me and I be wait a text from Hannah and let me know that she text you ok, Ti amo Victoria 😘

Victoria(on a videocall): I love you too Y/N, good luck with your radio session you guys are going to rock on stage.

Y/N: ahh thanks mi amore 😘 see you later and don't forget the link

Victoria (on a videocall): I won't forget that ok Ciao

Y/N: Ciao, ciao

And we both kiss each other phones and we hang off our phone and I had to be ready for the radio session for Radio Disney.

Before to do a Radio session the NJAS and Dream are in the middle of the rehersal ready for the Radio Disney's Radio session.

Noah: do wanna record it

Y/N: Yah man let's do it

Then I sing this song

"No need to worry no, no, no, long as your with me yeah, yeah, yeah, I got feeling it's going be alright" then I sang it twice, Noah was very curious about my bass.

Noah: dude, your bass was epic were did you get that?

Y/N: Hannah's old bass guitar, this would be a play on the live session and I can't wait to play.

Noah: Yah.

Meanwhlie after the recording at the Måneskin Studio Victoria is miss out the live video on the Instagram live so I sent a recording track that I record of the chorus of the song and Victoria was blushing because my voice and perform on a bass guitar to impressed my girl, so she text me and she said

Victoria(text message): Ciao Mi amore, I just wanna say to you that performance from the radio session today was amazing you really impressed me my Irish/Filipino member of Now United, anyways good news that Hannah is offically finsh the UK/Ireland tour for the first half so her and the group are going back to London for recording for the next single and secondly, I'm so proud of you that you improve your bass skills was fantastic I will listening to Its going be alright into my mind thinking about you all the time, Ti Amo Y/N. 💘

After the live session we went back at the hotel im so tired and I just wanna go bed before

Y/N(text message): Aww puppy, I hope you like it I be thinking about you and Hannah all the time I really happy about the song and it perfect for us is well anyways I had to go to dinner then, I will try to text Hannah if she finsh the show in Leeds if is not I will text her in the morning and tell her that ring me in the morning anyways I hope you like it and Love you too. Boa noite from São Paulo.

I'm happy that she really like this song to impressed and express how she feels about how much that I miss her and we connect into our song that we loved and we share our feelings and our hopes.💘

and I'm happy and pleased of this song.💘

Taglist

@selenophiliaxx @angelboy1 , @mywritingonlyfans, @wannabemarlenabutiscoraline, @its-me-im-coraline, @its-afucking-mess, @vicsdeangelis, @victoriadeangeliswifey, @anygstuff, @ilballodellavitaa, @ilbxllodellavita, @maneskinslave @teatro-dira @teatrodellavita @damianodavidwife @unitericons @unitershy, @anygabriellystuff @noahurrea-fan @marlena-immortale @musicsavedme98 @oro-e-diamanti, @ethanesimp @ethaneskin @maneskinrollercoaster @makeavvish @bidet-and-legolas @ginny-lily @cantaraiilmionome @nientedaridere @ethanasia @teenyweenynightghost @vicsdeangelis @iochoventanni @ventvnni @97skitten @sunflowerpumpkinpie @user0126

if I miss out of the tagging just I will edit it later😊

youtube

#Youtube #victoria de angelis #maneskin #maneskin talk #now united story #maneskin story #noah urrea #any gabrielly #fan fic #now united fiction #maneskin fiction #uniters #måneskin #now united #x reader

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jeffverse · 3 years ago

Note

Any voice claims? I’m especially curious about Daisy’s voice!

one of Daisy’s hidden talents is that he can greatly modify the pitch of his voice. he’s KILLER at impressions (and uses it for evil). so technically he’s got a plethora of voice claims. i’ll outline the main ones.

* while he naturally has a deep toned voice he tends to ham it up theatrically when killing/out in public/around people he wants to intimidate. so his primary claim is Doug Bradley’s Pinhead

* his natural, non forced voice is Aaron Stainthorpe of My Dying Bride (stainthorpe’s SINGING voice. daisy isn’t british, god no.)

* in his youth he developed a primary feminine voice called his Tv Voice, which was an amalgamation of voices/mannerisms he’d picked up from his favorite movies. the best examples of the Tv Voice are Judy Garland and Adriana Caselotti’s Snow White

* when he gets hit real hard and it catches him by surprise he yowls like tom from tom and jerry.

(for my other boys: blondie sounds like maynard james keenan with the vocal cadence and accent of blanche devereaux, spirit’s vocalizations sound similar to how the tethered speak in us.)

- mod sloan🧀

My voice claims are pretty basic as far as voices go— but i think they fit really well!

Grease's voice is Mo1stcr1tikal / Critikal / Charlie, it sounds very laid-back and his manner of speech is similiar, slovenly and lazy but also quite cheery when he cracks a laugh.

Dally's voice is the singer of Placebo, Brian Molko. In the usual interviews Brian Molko's voice is rather nasally which fits him really well!

Sal's voice is just straight up Candyman. His voice is very deep and his tone is "cold", even when he doesn't really mean to be. He just has a flat tone.

JD is named (and inspired) after Heather's JD, and as such has the same voice as him! Movie or Musical fits, as i can't really decide on one, but both fit him really well.

-Mod Noah 🎶

Pirate could sound like pretty much any young boy voice, but I primarily use Gus from Sweet Tooth, alternatively, his actor Christian Convery. We've also joked about him sounding like the chug jug with you kid and I'm not confirming or denying that.

Nathan sounds like Timone from the Lion King. Very high-pitched and whiney Man voice. Alternatively he could be Fry from Futurama both for a regular, calmer speaking voice and also the way Fry screams.

AJ's voice is a little complicated. He typically forces an accent to fit in with wherever he currently is, so I'd say he sounds like Lil Nas X, but regularly he has a latin-american accent.

Darcie....Darcie's voice I directly took from an Irish carbon monoxide PSA. This wasn't even intentional it just hit me one day that he sounded Like That when it came on tv

Tulpa speaks a little different depending on who's fronting, but his default voice sounds like Craig from Craig Of The Creek :)

Tino's voice isn't really decided atm but he either sounds like the Cheshire Cat from the live action Alice In Wonderland movies orrr Dr Frank N Furter

Eddy has two different voice-claims! He typically speaks in a fairly hushed murmur because he's shy and doesn't want to be intimidating, so he'd sound like Edward Scissorhands (fairly obvious choice ngl). His outward speaking voice, when he isn't hushing it, sounds like The Spine from Steam Powered Giraffe. Very deep and intimidating, especially when you're not expecting it.

-Mod CC 💙

nines is corpse husband, very simple, i don’t think you need a link for that one you all know who he is.

i answered this on my other blog, but the tone and pitch of val’s voice is actually from a radio interview from the 60’s called a child again, the girls name was marcy. the thing about val is that he has a very noticeable accent that marcy doesn’t, along with different speech patterns. it’s a lot to explain, so if you send an ask about it i’ll talk about it further in a separate post.

stats is brad dourif’s chucky. same very noticeable accent with specific speech patterns, very very jersey. i could talk about his accent and speech patterns in another post as well, but it’s a lot more simple than val’s.

praline doesn’t have a voice yet, i have ideas, but her voice is very specific

- mod lucia

Andy has a couple different voice claims, but they mostly come from male broadway singers. One great example of this is Matthew James Thomas, specifically his voice in parts of Corner of the Sky. In other words, Andy is a tenor and sounds a little gay. Another funny one is Jesse Walsh from Nightmare on Elmstreet 2.

Cas’s voice is Ethan Jewell. It’s somewhat masculine but with an energy that is distinctly “teenage boy getting used to the fact that he doesn’t sound 12 anymore”. He still has voice cracks occasionally even though he’s 17.

Skinny. Skinny’s voice is. Well. Okay. Skinny’s voice is a mixture of Toad from the old X-Men cartoons, and some renditions of the Joker. Most of the meme incel videos you find online sound like him as well.

At this time I unfortunately don’t have voice claims for Corpse or RT :(

- Mod Ez

#asks #jeffverse #jeff the killer #creepypasta #traphouse qna #creepypasta ask blog

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alainas-sims · 3 years ago

Photo

My dear friend Pearl,

I must write to tell you of everything that happened at the dance. It was my first dance now that I am 16 years old. Mamá helped me get all dressed up for the party, and even let me wear my hair up. I saw you dancing with Noah there; I know he has liked you for many years and you two make such a lovely couple. As for me, I danced twice with Brian Mulligan. He took me out of the room to a quiet place and he and I held hands for the first time.

“I am growing very fond of you, Señorita Carolina,” he said. The Spanish title sounded so charming with his Irish accent. “It is within my hopes that I may seek your father’s permission to court you until we reach a marriageable age.”

I accepted his offer. I hope that Papá allows it. He is not Hispanic but at least he is Catholic, as I suspect my parents would not let me wed a Protestant. I am so excited I can hardly sleep!

— Carolina

#Marquez 1890 #Marquez gen1 #Carolina Marquez #Brian Mulligan #Pearl Murakami #Noah Templeton #Katie Mulligan #random decades challenge #1890s

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berrynarrybanana · 4 years ago

Text

Deck the Halls - pt. 1

A/N: Ummmm.....so this is kind of like a Christmas fic, but it turned out very different than I expected it to. It’s more of a...wintery suspense type thing with an actual lengthy as fuck plot, but the romance is strong from the beginning. I tried to keep it in one post, but the word count is simply too much for me to put in one post. I plan on updating everything that I have so that you all can indulge in the story while I finish it up. I know that this might not be everyone’s cup of hot chocolate, but I hope that some of you enjoy it! I haven’t really done anything of this nature before, so I’m kind of nervous about the whole thing. I hope that you all had a wonderful holiday, and I can’t wait for us to ring in the new year together! I love you all loads!

Word Count: 7.3k

Warnings: Mentions of death, violence, smut, fluff....other things i can’t remember at this moment?

November 1

Harry is walking through the snow.

The soft sound of snow crunching under his boots and the wind whipping around him is all that he can hear at first. He feels cold, but he’s been colder than this. His hand feels warm, though his hands are bare. He glances down, his eyes locking on an emerald green mitten. He feels the fingers in the mitten flex, gripping his hand tightly. He trails his eyes up the arm covered in a light green coat, freezing when he sees the curly tendrils of snow white hair draped over her shoulder. He knows instantly who it is, and he knows exactly how this dream will end.

When his eyes finally land on rich, berry red lips, he feels his breath catch in his throat. He’s never seen her face before this. She’s usually drowning by the time he gets to the lake, already under the block of ice as the man with blue hair holds her under. He can’t help but stare, taking in the beautiful and ethereal features of her face. It’s almost as if she isn’t real at all, from the color of her skin to the pointed tips of her ears. The hair was strange, but he’d gotten used to the beyond platinum shade over the years. It wasn’t so shocking to him anymore.

Harry turns his attention from the girl when he hears a twig snap, his gaze dropping to the snow covered floor of the forest they've been walking through. He wasn’t sure why they were walking in the woods, or where they were going, but he was happy to be spending time by her side. He was happy that he wasn’t watching her die for once, her beautiful face still full of life as her lips moved. She was talking, but he couldn’t hear a word that she said. All he could hear was the wind and the snow, a whistle and a crunch echoing in his ears as if he had winter sounds playing from a quality stereo.

He hated that he couldn’t hear her.

He hated that he didn’t know where they were going.

But suddenly, it all becomes clear.

The lake.

“Don’t.” Harry croaks out through chapped lips, squeezing her fingers in an attempt to get her attention. Her lips stop moving as he pulls her closer, but she offers him a sad smile. “We shouldn’t-”

“It’s alright.” He can finally hear her voice, the sound something akin to Christmas bells being softly run in the middle of the night. “We have to go.”

“You can hear me.” He breathes out, his eyes stinging due to the wind, and the inevitable tragedy that’s about to occur. “You can hear me and I can hear you.”

“I guess so.” She glances up, an amused smile curling the corners of her lips as she hums out.

When she looks back down at Harry, he loses his breath.

“What’s your name?” She asks, turning her back towards the lake, giving him her full attention.

“Harry.” He whispers the word, almost as if he’s afraid for anyone else to hear it. “I...who are you?”

“I can’t tell you.” He watches her face fall, her expression going dismal. “But I want to.”

“You can tell me anything.” He moves closer, squeezing her fingers. “Talk to me, love.”

“I can’t say it.” Her brows furrow in frustration. “It won’t come out, no matter how hard I try to say it.”

“Why is this happening to us?” He presses, moving his feet closer. “Why do you drown every single time? Why can’t I save you?”

“I don’t know.” She glances down, her cheeks losing their glow. “I wish that you could save me, Harry.”

“I’ll try harder this time.” He gulps, his throat tightening as tears threaten his eyes. “I’ll try harder to save you, I promise.”

“But you won’t save me.” She looks up, her own eyes glossed over with unshed tears. “It’s okay, Harry. It was meant to be this way.”

“No, I don’t believe it.” He shakes his head. “I can save you.”

She shakes her head, slowly backing away from him.

“We have to go now.” She says softly, her feet carrying her towards the iced over lake.

Harry notices a pair of skates dangling over her shoulders.

“No, don’t go.” He reaches out for her, but she continues to move away. “Don’t leave me.”

“I have to.” She steps onto the ice, the soft cracking noises causing Harry’s eyes to grow wide with panic. “Save me, Harry.”

And just like that, it’s all over.

November 2 Harry’s POV - Age 21

Harry pushes the door to Paradise Records open, watching a few flakes of paint fall to the concrete stoop outside of his shop. He made a mental note to buy some paint to touch up the door before the holiday season started.

He could feel the frustration creeping up his spine at the mere thought of Christmas, and it was times like these that he wished the world had sympathy for those who hated the holiday. He hated to give into the global phenomenon, but it did bring in enough business and revenue to keep the shop afloat until the annual summer sale rolled around in June.

He sipped at his bitter, black coffee, walking into the record store with a relieved sigh. This was truly his paradise where he escaped from the demons that haunted his mind. For a split second, he was finally at peace after the grueling nightmare he endured. That peace was quickly disturbed by the jingling of bells from the front door, causing Harry to frown as he turned on his heels.

“Another beautiful day in paradise, eh boss!” Niall clapped his hand down on Harry’s shoulder on his way towards the checkout counter, causing Harry to bite back a whine of discomfort. “How are you today?”

There were knots in Harry’s shoulders causing him pain, and most of them were caused by the cheery Irish lad pushing behind the checkout counter.

“Good morning, Niall.” Harry turned towards the boy with a sarcastic smile. “Why are you always so bloody loud.”

“You knew I was loud when ya’ hired me, I put it under my strengths on my job application.” Niall called out as he walked through the beaded curtain to the back office, whistling a tune that made Harry’s ears ache.

“I didn’t know that you were a fucking foghorn, mate.” Harry hiked his leather bag higher up on his shoulder, fighting off a yawn as he followed slowly in Niall’s footsteps.

“Did you have a long night?” Niall popped out from the beaded curtain, causing Harry to jump as he made it behind the counter. “You look exhausted.”

“Yeah, long night.” Harry grumbled, shutting the employee gate at the end of the counter. “You watch the front for a few hours, I’ve got some paperwork to catch up on.”

“Sure.” Niall nodded as Harry pushed through the curtain. “If you need anymore coffee, just let Mitch know. He’s stopping at Java Java before he comes in.”

Harry pulled out his phone, typing a quick text telling Mitch not to get Niall coffee.

He didn’t need any more energy.

He needed a proper nights rest.

Harry sat down at his desk, putting his coffee by his keyboard with a heavy sigh.

There wasn’t enough espresso in the world to fix the aching in his head caused by the nightmare he had last night. In the sixteen years that he’d been having the recurring nightmare, he was never able to talk to her in the dream. He was still haunted by the beautiful sound of her voice when she spoke to him, but he was mostly haunted by the sound of her desperate pleas for help. But his feet were frozen solid to the ground as the man with ice blue hair held her under the water. He emerged from the cracks in the ice this time, pulling the girl under with him as she screamed for her life. Harry remembers screaming for her until his throat was sore, but when he woke up this morning, he felt fine.

Harry brushed his palms over his face, inhaling sharply as he tried to push the image of her face from his mind. He didn’t need to spend the rest of his day thinking about her. He needed to get to work. There was a lot that he needed to do in preparation for Christmas. Every single year, parents and Uni students would come into Paradise Records and buy out his record players, and usually all of his Christmas albums. He’d already pre-ordered Christmas albums, but he needed to get in contact with the shipping company and the manufacturer to make sure they all arrived on time for the Christmas sale.

“Hey boss,” Niall’s sudden shout made Harry flinch, muttering a curse under his breath at the Irish lad. “Gemma is here.”

“Tell her to come back.” Harry called back, reaching into his bag in search of his glasses with his left hand while he booted up his computer with his right hand.

He hated wearing glasses, but Gemma bought them for him last Christmas when he opened the shop, insisting that they would improve the quality of his eyesight by blocking out the blue light in most devices. He did notice a slight difference in the quality of his vision after using them.

“Look at you, a dapper young man in his glasses.” Gemma pushed Noah’s pram into Harry’s office, the toddler screeching out the second his eyes landed on his uncle. “Alright, young man, Mum isn’t superwoman. I can’t move that fast.”

“You have five seconds to hand me my nephew before I start screaming with him.” Harry teased, looking at Noah with a wide smile. “I’ve missed you, mate.”

“It’s been three days, not three months.” Gemma huffed out, unbuckling the straps on the pram until Noah was free of restraint. “Alright, you can stop your crying now dove, uncle knobhead is right here.”

Harry scowled at his sister, leaning up to grab his nephew by the waist with ease.

“Harry.” Noah screeched, patting his palms against Harry’s cheeks. “Hi.”

“Hi, bubba.” Harry kissed over Noah’s face, causing him to giggle out as Gemma found a seat on the opposite side of Harry’s desk. “You know he’s not going to leave here without throwing a fit, right?”

“I know.” Gemma let out a breathy laugh laced with frustration. “Thanks for the reminder.”

“You’re welcome.” Harry settled Noah in his lap, resting his hand on Noah’s lap so that he could entertain himself by playing with the rings on his uncle’s fingers. “What brings you by?”

“I just wanted to talk to you about Christmas.” Gemma said softly, watching Harry’s face change from curious to furious in two seconds flat. “I know, you still don’t feel ready to celebrate after Mum and Dad, but I think we should start easing back into it. Noah is getting older, and we’ve got friends who-”

“I’ll do it for Noah, but I don’t want to celebrate with other people.” Harry interrupted. “I still don’t get how can you be okay with it, Gemma? They died because of some stupid Christmas tradition.”

“So are we supposed to hate pancakes now?” She tossed her hands up with an eye roll. “You drive a bloody car, don’t you? The pancakes didn’t kill them, Harry. Some reckless driver knocked into their car.”

“It’s not-”

“You’re being childish, Harry.” Gemma snapped at her younger brother, shaking her head. “Christmas isn’t the thing that killed Mum and Dad. I know that it sucks, having the anniversary of their death on your favorite holiday, but you have to deal with this. You can’t keep pushing it off like this.”

“I can, and I will.” He said, clearing his throat as his sister shook her head. “I don’t want to be happy without them on such a terrible day, Gemma.”

“I really think you should talk to someone about this.” She sighed, brushing her palms over her thighs. “I think it would do you some good to work out the issues you have surrounding this whole thing. I’ve been talking to someone since it happened, and it’s really helped me cope.”

“I don’t need help.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s fine, Gemma.”

“It’s not fine, and the fact that you don’t seem to realize that worries me the most.” She whispered. “You’re drowning in your own grief, and I can’t save you.”

Harry froze, his eyes snapping back to his sister.

“What did you just say to me?” He asked her, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I said it’s like you’re drowning in your own grief.” She said slowly, tilting her head with narrowed eyes as Harry stared back at her like she’d stepped on his foot. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“Because…..” He paused, licking over his bottom lip as he inhaled sharply, shaking his head. It was best not to mention the nightmares, or the girl. “Nothing.”

“There you go again.” She let out a bitter laugh, smacking her thighs. “You can’t keep everything bottled in forever, Harry.”

But this, I should keep bottled in.

“It seems to be working out alright.” Harry shrugged, searching for something to change the subject. “How are we on presents for little man this year? Did you get everything on your list?”

“Yeah, nearly.” Gemma mumbled, picking at a loose strand of thread on her scarf. “Niall has helped me get most of the shopping done when I’m at work. He’s truly a godsend, Harry. I’m so happy he lives close by, and that Noah loves him.”

Harry narrowed his eyes at his sister, previous suspicions about Niall and Gemma creeping back into his mind. He always knew there was something between the two, but he could never get a straight answer out of either of them on their feelings. Gemma swore that he was only a friend, and a good neighbor. Niall swore that he only hung around Gemma to hang out with Noah. Harry pressed his lips together, watching as Gemma’s cheeks turned pink, the soft color giving away their secrets in an instant. Normally, she was better at hiding it.

“What?” She squeaked out, shifting in her chair.

“You slept with Niall, didn't you?” Harry said slowly, his eyes narrowing. “You finally bit the bullet and slept with him.”

“Harry, Noah is right there.” Gemma’s eyes grew wide. “Don’t say things like that in front of him!”

“Don’t be a hypocrite, Gemma! Who was watching Noah when you were getting it on with Niall of all people!” Harry asked, his brows lifting up towards his hairline. “Noah doesn’t know what that means, calm down.”

Gemma snapped her mouth shut, sinking in her chair.

Harry wasn’t really mad, but he enjoyed teasing Gemma.

Niall was a good guy.

“My poor nephew.” Harry tutted, shaking his head before he pressed a kiss to the soft ginger hair on top of Noah’s head. “I’m so sorry, buddy. I’ll make sure to dock Niall’s pay to help out with the therapy you’re going to need when you’re older.”

“Alright, we get it.” Gemma grumbled, crossing her arms with a frown. “I’m a terrible mother and a horrible sister.”

“Hey.” Harry snapped, turning his attention back towards his sister with furrowed brows and a deep frown. “I never said that, and I never will. I’m only teasing you because you slept with fucking lucky charms out there, I’m not shaming you as a woman or a mother in anyway. You’re allowed to have fun, Gemma.”

“I know.” Her lips curved into a smile as her brother nodded, glancing at Noah as the toddler tried to pull off his Grateful Dead ring. It seemed to be his nephew’s favorite ring, and Harry couldn’t wait until Noah was old enough to wear it himself. “I’ve raised you well.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Harry rolled his eyes with a playful snort. “I just don’t want to hear about you and Niall’s sex life ever again, capiche?”

“Got it.” She nodded, trying not to smile. “He’s a really good guy, Harry, and I really like him a lot. I would also love it if he could spend Christmas with us.”

Realization dawned over Harry as he looked at his sister.

So that’s what this is about.

“You want him to spend Christmas with the three of us?” Harry asked. “Like, as a family?”

“We’re gonna ease Niall into it, but I think so.” She softly laughed. “Noah adores him, Harry, and quite frankly so do I.”

Harry bit the inside of his cheek, looking down at his nephew with hesitation.

These two were all that he had left in the world, and bloody Niall was trying to take them away.

But maybe she needed someone like Niall in her life to balance out all of the bad that loomed over her head. The Irishman was supportive, and positive no matter what situation he was in. He was loyal and kind to everyone he met, and he was honest, and genuinely the best at giving advice. Harry hated to admit it, but Niall was everything Harry used to be. He couldn’t be that positive influence that his sister and nephew needed anymore, but Niall could.

So maybe he needed to let them move on.

“Yeah.” Harry whispered. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

“Okay.” Gemma smiled. “That’s all I’m asking.”

“I can’t believe-”

“Oh, actually-” Gemma held up her hand, interrupting Harry. “I am also asking that you won’t kill him when I leave.”

“That’s asking a lot.” Harry blew out a breath, shaking his head. “I’m definitely allowed at least one punch, Gemma. My best mate slept with my sister, c’mon.”

“Please don’t punch him, he bruises like a peach.” Gemma groaned.

“How do you know that?” Harry’s brows lifted before they fell, a look of disgust washing over his face as Gemma pressed her lips together. “That’s fucking gross! I didn’t need to know that!”

“I’m sorry!”

“Did you tell him?” Niall’s head poked into Harry’s office. “Did he call me his best mate a second ago?”

“I’m going to punch you.” Harry lifted his free hand, pointing at Niall. “You’re lucky I have Noah in my lap, mate.”

“But I bruise like a peach!” Niall looked at Gemma with wide eyes. “Did ya tell him, love?”

“I did.” She nodded, but she pursed her lips in defeat. “I can’t help you with this one, Ni.”

“Oh, for fucks sake.” Niall groaned. “I knew I should have taken those self defense classes with you Gem.”

Harry watched Niall sulk out of his office, Gemma glaring at Harry before she got up to follow her new loverboy. Harry rolled his eyes before glancing down to Noah. The toddler dropped his head back against Harry’s chest, lifting his uncle’s hand up to chew on one of his fingers with a sparkle in his eyes.

“This is your fault, mate.” Harry said softly, not a stitch of malice in his voice. “I’m only agreeing to this because I love you more than anyone else in the world, and I expect you to change my nappies in return when I’m old, do you hear me?”

“Harry.” Noah gurgled out, a gummy smile melting Harry’s fake stern expression. “Harry, hi!”

“I love you.” Harry pressed soft kisses all over Noah’s face. “You’re my favorite human... even if you don’t have any teeth.”

November 3 Holland’s POV

Holland felt like she was going to vomit as she walked through the halls of Santa’s workshop.

As the elves watched her with judgmental, licorice colored eyes, her palms started to sweat, and her feet moved faster. Her father requested her for an urgent meeting, but Holland truly had no idea what it could be about. She hadn’t told anyone about her dreams, afraid that people would think she was crazy for having them. She was used to the dreams, but last night’s dream put her on edge. Something was different about the situation, and it wasn’t just the fact that she knew the boy’s name.

For the first time since they started, she saw his face.

She would admit without shame that she would die over and over again in her dream if it meant she could look at him. His hair was shoulder length and the strands curled up at the end. He had a beautiful set of candy pink lips that Holland wanted to taste with her own, and gorgeous jade eyes that were almost translucent. She spent most of her nightmare staring into them, trying to see into his soul as if it would help her find him.

But it didn’t work.

He was still just a stranger to her.

A stranger named Harry.

As she approached her father’s office, she felt her palms become slicker than they were before as her heart pounded faster and faster in her chest. She reached down for the doorknob, turning it before she pushed the heavy wooden door open. She stopped in her tracks when she noticed the three, ominous figures standing off to the side of her father’s desk. The vibe that they gave off sent shivers down her spine as the little hairs on her arm stuck up to warn her of danger.

“Come in.” Her father ushered her in, and Holland’s feet followed the command without hesitation. “Holland, I would like for you to meet the Council of Elders.”

“Hello.” Holland offered them a small wave, her body shrinking nervously as they glared back at her.

Their dark robes were just as creepy as the large, wooden walking sticks they carried.

“Young child.” One of the men spoke up, holding his hand out to her. “Give me your hand.”

Holland looked towards her father, afraid to take a stranger’s hand.

“Go on, Holland.” Her father said. “Do as they ask, my dear. I promise that they won’t hurt you.”

Holland moved closer to the man with jet black hair, sliding her fingers into his palm.

A shock greeted her senses, causing her to gasp and jump.

“It’s alright.” The man whispered. “Close your eyes, show me what you see.”

When Holland obeyed his order, Holland thought of the lake.

Her entire dream played out in her head, almost as if it were on a television screen instead of in her mind. The closer they got towards the end, the harder Holland gripped the man’s hand in her own. The end was the part that she hated the most, the part that tore her apart.

“Holland, baby, please breathe for me.” Harry’s palms brushed over her cheeks, tears streaming down his own as he tried to bring her back to life. “I need you to wake up, Holland! I need you.”

The dream finished with Holland on the ice, Harry sobbing into her neck.

He did know her name.

“My, my, my.” The man spoke, tutting his tongue. “It seems that I was right after all.”

“Right about what?” Holland whispered, blinking her eyes rapidly in attempts to clear the tears from her vision. “How did you know about my nightmares?”

“Because I rule them, my dear.” The man spoke. “I’m Morpheus, the god of dreams.”

“Oh.” She whispered, still in shock. “You make those happen?”’

“Most dreams are of my creation, but not yours.” He said. “Your nightmare is crafted at the hand of someone else, a master manipulator that has conned his way into using someone else’s magic.”

“Morpheus, I would like to know what in the sleigh bells is going on with my daughter-”

“Kristopher, this is not your place.” The shortest of the three men hissed, his chubby cheeks turning red.

“Now, now…” The only woman spoke up, a sly smirk on her black painted lips. “Erotes, Kristopher is merely concerned for his offspring.”

“If he was concerned about her well being, Ma’at, he would not have split her from the boy-”

“Erotes.” Morpheus drawled out. “He could not have known about the boy.

“He should have known.” Erotes turned back to Holland, offering her a soft smile. “To be parted from the other half of one’s soul is a pain I would not wish on my worst enemies. I sincerely apologize on behalf of myself for letting you be away from him for so long.”

“I don’t understand.” Holland looked from Erotes to Morpheus, her brow furrowed. “What does-”

“Things have changed, haven’t they?” The man hummed out as if Holland were a specimen that he was examining in a lab instead of a girl.

“He knows my name.” She whispered. “And I know his name.”

“And you didn’t know it before.” The man narrowed his dark eyes, staring at her with a curious grin. “How is that, little elf?”

“I don’t know.” She tried to pull her hand back, but the man kept her fingers in a tight hold. “I just...I had the first dream when I was five, and it’s always been the same up until last week. It was all the same until suddenly I saw his face, clearer than it’s ever been before. I said his name like I’d known it all along and then….when I was drowning I saw him for the first time.”

Holland cleared her throat as it started to tighten, trying to regain her voice.

“You saw who did it.” The man spoke. “You know who it is that is trying to kill you both?”

“I do.” She nodded, licking over her lips nervously. “It’s Jack Frost.”

“Can someone tell me what’s going on?” Kris spoke up from his desk, his chair scraping across the wooden floor as he stood up. “What does Frost have to do with this?”

“The boy that you exposed yourself to as Santa sixteen years ago on Christmas night is your daughter’s other half.” Erotes said. “They are two souls created from the same star, the brightest star, and their love for each other has been tainted by your ignorance. The moment you laid eyes on the boy, you should have contacted me.”

“He reminded me of Holland, but I didn’t...” Kris said. “He had that same glow that she has in her eyes, I remember that much about him.”

“Their souls were forged from the ash of the Christmas star.” Morpheus said. “Other than you and your son, these two are the last people on earth with true Christmas spirit and it is their job as children of the Christmas star to instill that spirit into the souls of everyone they meet.”

“Jack Frost wishes to kill them both to absorb that power for a different use, of course.” Ma’at spoke up, drawing Holland’s eyes from Morpheus. “In the wrong hands, their power can be used for evil things.”

“When Frost kills them both, he will kill Christmas.” Erotes tutted. “We wouldn’t want that to happen, Kringle. The humans wouldn’t know what to do without Christmas, it would be horrible.”

“So what do we do?” Holland looked at Morpheus, swallowing around the lump in her throat as he looked down at her.

“We must keep an eye on Jack Frost.” Morpheus spoke. “And you must find your soulmate. He has suffered great tragedy, and his Christmas spirit is nearly gone. You must save him, and restore his power if you wish to properly fight for your lives.”

“Both souls must be pure in order for you to fight Jack Frost and his twisted magic.” Ma’at said.

“You must go to him, Holland.” Erotes said. “You must be by your beloved.”

“I don’t have any clue how to survive in the real world.” She shook her head. “And I don’t know where to find him, or how I would even begin to restore his Christmas spirit. I’ve never been trained on that kind of thing.”

“Look at me, Holland.” Morpheus snapped. “I have faith in your ability to do this without failing, but my faith in you is nothing if you don’t believe in yourself. Let that be the lesson you learn during this mission of yours.”

“Without Christmas, the rest of us will cease to exist.” Ma’at said. “The entire world of magic relies on you.”

“I will take you to him in six days time.” Erotes said. “He is in London.”

She swallowed, clenching her fingers into fists at her side.

“Alright.” She said softly. “What do I need to do to prepare myself?”

“There is a book you must read.” Morpheus said. “I will send it to you as soon as I return to my own realm. You need to practice your Christmas magic, little elf.”

When Holland blinked, the council of elders was gone without a trace.

She turned around to her Father with wide eyes, her mouth open in shock.

“What in the sugar plum just happened?”

November 7 Harry’s POV

Harry felt like he was one gust of winter wind away from falling over.

The lack of sleep was starting to catch up to him as the days grew shorter and the nights colder.

Fighting off sleep to avoid the violent dreams that plagued his mind at night wasn’t helping, because no matter how hard he tried to fight it off with caffeine, or cold showers, he ended up falling into the ominous forest in his mind where he would inevitably watch the girl die the same way that she always did. But the blue haired man was getting bolder, taunting Harry with icy smirks and snide remarks. Harry could never retaliate with his feet frozen solid to the forest ground however. His eyes were always glued to the girl with snow white hair as she cried his name out, his heart breaking in his chest as he accepted the cruel fate bestowed upon them.

She was fighting so hard to stay alive, and it killed Harry knowing that it was never enough. He spent a lot of time trying to convince himself that it was just a nightmare, something that the darkest parts of his brain conjured up to punish him. But with each passing night that he stared into the girls eyes, he started to think that he was wrong about that. His brain didn’t conjure this dream up at all, it was real. It made him feel insane, of course, thinking that some recurring dream with two strangers in it wasn’t a dream at all, but a reality. But he couldn’t shake the feeling in the pit of his stomach that this was a premonition, not a figment of his imagination.

That girl was real, and Harry cared for her.

They weren’t just friends in the nightmares, they were lovers.

At this point, he was considering committing himself to an insane asylum so that he didn’t end up accidentally telling someone about these dreams. If he told anyone, they would surely look at him like he was loony, and he couldn’t really blame them. It was a weird situation, and he didn’t have anyone he could confide in.

“Why do you look like you’re in pain?” Niall nudged Harry’s foot with his own, lifting his pint up to his lips as Harry snapped out of his thoughts. “You’ve been staring at the table for like, five solid minutes. Do you have heartburn or something?”

“I don’t have heartburn, you prick.” Harry rolled his eyes, grabbing his own pint from the table before he tipped it back. “I’m still upset with you for sleeping with my sister.”

“Here it goes.�� Mitch inhaled, trying not to laugh as he reached for his whiskey. “Styles, I don’t think talking about your sister’s sex life with your best mate, while your drunk, is a good idea.”

“Yeah, what Mitch said.” Niall shifted uncomfortable as Harry slapped on a fake scowl, sending it towards the blonde boy. “You’ve already threatened to punch me-”

“I’m still going to.” Harry said plainly. “Of all the women in the world, you had to pick my sister.”

“Mitchell, help me.” Niall whined, glancing over at the brunette with desperate eyes. “I don’t want to die tonight.”

“I don’t think that I can help you.” Mitch shrugged his shoulders, catching the wink Harry sent his way. “He might actually kill you.”

“I might.” Harry shrugged, sipping at his beer. “I might save it for a rainy day, who knows?”

“Jesus.” Niall scoffed, shaking his head. “I better call my Ma and tell her I love her then.”

“Niall, I’m kidding.” Harry laughed, shaking his head. “I’m happy for you both. I think you’re good for her, even if I hate to admit it.”

“Really?” Niall let out a sigh. “Because I really like her.”

“I know that you do.” Harry nodded, sitting his pint glass on the table. “And I know that you love Noah just as much as you love her.”

“I really do.” Niall’s lips curved up in a secret smile. “They make me happy.”

“And the end of the day, that’s all we can really ask for.” Harry shrugged his shoulders. "But I don't want to hear anymore about how you bruise like a peach or what you get up to in your spare time.”

“That’s fair enough.” Niall nodded.

Harry lifted his pint glass, downing what was left before he stood up.

“Where are you going?” Niall’s brows furrowed. “It’s still early!”

“I’ve got to open the shop tomorrow.” Harry reached for his jacket, sliding his arms in. “I don’t want to be late….or hungover.”

“I think you’ll already be hungover.” Mitch laughed. “I can open if you’d like me to, I don’t have any plans tomorrow.”

“Nah, you spend time working on those guitar skills, shredder.” Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets as he looked at Niall. “And you, treat my sister to breakfast or something you lowlife.”

“Will do.” Niall laughed, his cheeks turning pink. “We’ll drop something off for you with Noah?”

“I’d like that.” Harry mumbled, offering Niall a tight lipped smile. “Alright lads, you be good.”

“Same to you.”

Harry waved at his friends before he made his way out of the pub.

He walked towards the end of the street, looking both ways before he ran across.

His building wasn’t far from the pub, but the wind whipping around made it feel like a twenty mile trek in the tundra. Harry was shivering by the time he made it into his building, his feet carrying him slowly through the lobby and towards the lift. He stepped in, using his elbow to press the button to his floor as his teeth started to chatter. The landlord was going to get an earful about the temperature inside the building tomorrow, Harry would make sure of it.

He stepped off of the lift, fumbling his fingers around in his pocket until he made contact with his keys. He pulled them out, glancing down until he found the one that opened his flat. As he walked down the hall, his mind went back to the girl. He could almost smell her familiar scent in the air, berries and clove filling his senses with every step he took. He was sure one of the ladies that lived down his hall was burning a winter candle with the same scent.

It was the only explanation.

When he made it towards his door, he heard a soft gasp.

He lifted his head up, his eyes growing wide as he saw the girl from his dreams standing right across the hall from his flat. She was staring at him, her pine colored eyes wide with disbelief and her berry red lips parted with shock. Her hair wasn’t as white as he remembered, more honey colored tones tied into the strands to compliment her skin. Harry stopped in his tracks, his heart slamming against his rib cage as she blinked rapidly, shaking her head as if she were trying to bring herself back into reality.

Harry swallowed around the nerves in his throat as he took one step forward.

Just as his foot landed on the ground, she fell to the floor.

Harry felt like he lost all of the air in his lungs, vivid visions of her body falling through the ice playing through his mind. But this time, he could do something about it. He rushed forward, grabbing her arms with his palms to lift her up as her head lolled back. She was limp, her body heavy and warm in his hands. He was shocked by just how warm she was, her skin was usually ice cold by the time that he got to her. He felt the tears blurring his eyes as she lay there.

“No, no.” He shook his head. “Get up!”

Her eyes snapped open at that, the dark shade of green greeting Harry like a breath of fresh air.

He was stone cold sober when he yanked her against his chest, holding her tight in his arms.

“I can’t breathe.” She gasped out, her hands tapping his shoulders. “Harry?”

He pulled back, staring back into her eyes with pink cheeks.

“How are you here?” He asked her, licking over his lips.

“Um, I don’t really have an answer for any of it.” She cleared her throat, glancing away from his gaze with shy eyes. “I just kind of...ended up here?”

“Did you take a taxi or something?” He asked, confused when she laughed. “Do you live in London? Have you always lived in London?”

“To be honest with you, I think that I teleported here.” She said slowly, like she was unsure of the response he might have. “That might sound insane to you. I know you only ever see stuff like that in Dr. Who, but um, it’s kind of real?”

“You sound like a mad woman.” He whispered, his eyes flitting over the features of her face, taking it all in. “But for some reason, I believe you.”

“If you think that was mad, wait until we dive into the fun stuff.” She said softly, giving him a sympathetic smile. “I don’t really know what I’m doing here, if I’m being honest with you.”

Harry nodded, loosening his grip on her arms.

“Do you have some place to stay?” He asked her. “Or do you plan on teleporting back to wherever you came from?”

“Um, that’s my flat.” She pointed to the door just next to them. “I’m staying there until...well, until I can go home.”

Harry suddenly felt drunk again, his mind swirling with information as he let go of her.

She sat up on her own, clearing her throat as she brushed her palms over her thighs.

“I’m gonna get off of the floor now.” She said softly. “Is that okay?”

“Just promise me that you won’t faint again.” He felt his brows pull together in concern, panic flashing into his heart. “Please?”

“I will try not to.” Her laughter still sounded like bells. “Um, so, I know your name-”

“But I’ve never learned yours.” He finished for her, standing up before he offered his hands out to her. He pulled her up, pressing his hand against her hip when she stumbled. “Are you okay?”

“I’m good.” She offered him a smile, one that genuinely comforted him. “I’m Holland.”

Holland.

“Holland, baby, please breathe.”

“I did know that.” He cleared his throat, reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck as his cheeks grew warm. “I guess….I guess I forgot about that part of my dream.”

“Our dream.” She pressed her lips together, fighting off a smile. “I have the same one.”

“How do you know both of our dreams are the same?” He asked, a small smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. “Maybe mine is different from yours.”

“I think I die in each version of the dream, Harry.” She said softly, trying not to laugh when his face paled. “But, I’m here now, in the flesh!”

“But you’re going to die.” He said slowly, anger rising in his chest. “That’s not funny.”

“No, I’m not going to die.” She was firm with her response, holding her chin up proudly as she crossed her arms over her chest. “I refuse to die like that, it just won’t do.”

“I don’t think you can control it.” Harry said, his voice bleeding with frustration and disbelief. “You are a mad woman.”

“I’m not.” Her berry lips pushed out into a pout, and Harry nearly dropped to his knees. “I’m very smart, and extremely sane, Harry. I just….I happen to know things that you don’t!”

“Things like teleportation?” He asked, his brows lifting towards his hairline. “You look different, did you know that?”

“No.” She said. “Why do I look different?”

“Your hair is normally white.” He lifted his hand, grabbing a few strands gently. “And your skin is normally like the snow.”

“I suppose it would be weird if I walked around London looking like that, eh?” She asked. “I can’t exactly be myself in this world.”

Harry knew what that was like.

“I think you’ll be just fine.” He whispered. “You’re still beautiful.”

“Well, I should probably go inside.” Holland said softly. “I’m quite knackered from all of that teleporting and stuff.”

Harry felt panic start to rise in his chest again.

She was leaving him.

What if something happened to her while he was just across the hall?

He would never forgive himself.

“You’re…” He felt his palms get sweaty. “Are you sure you’ll be okay by yourself?”

“I’m sure.” She nodded. “I’ve done a lot of research on this place, so I think I’ve got the hang of everything.”

“This place, as in the complex or this place, as in earth?”

“This place as in London.” She snorted. “I’m from Earth, gumdrop. I just come from a very small, remote island near the arctic.”

“Are you really from earth?” He let out a breathy chuckle. “Because I could have sworn you fell from heaven.”

Harry watched her cheeks glow like they did in the beginning of his dream.

“You’re cheeky.” She said softly. “I learned what that means by watching Skins. By the way, those children should all be on the naughty list, they’re horrid.”

Harry froze, watching Holland as she shook her head.

“You still believe in Santa?” He asked her softly, as if he were afraid he would startle her.

“Oh, yeah.” Her eyes grew wide, but she was quick to look away. “Who doesn’t?”

“Most of the world.” He cleared his throat. “Most of us don’t even like Christmas.”

“Gumdrop, by the time I’m through with you, I’ll have you singing Christmas Carols with Santa himself.”

“If there’s one thing you should know about me, Holland-” His voice was low as he spoke, frustration bubbling in his chest.. “It’s that I will never love Christmas or anything that has to do with that bloody holiday.”

He pulled his hand back, turning on his heel before he slipped his key into the lock.

He could feel Holland’s eyes on his back, but after the comment he made, he needed a little time to cool down. Sure, Holland was someone that he had dreamed of meeting for most of his life, but he didn’t really know her as a person. He drew the line at Christmas with anyone, and she was no exception to his strict rule. He pushed into his flat, shutting the door behind him with his foot. Seconds later, he dropped his head against the door with a heavy sigh.

“Maybe this is another dream.” he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. “Wake up, Harry.”

But when he opened his eyes, he was still standing in his apartment, and he could still smell the sweet scent of berry and clove.

#harry styles #harry styles au #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles x ofc #harry styles original fic #harry styles x original female character #harry fic #harry au #harry writing #my writing #harry fanfiction #harry fluff #harry x ofc #harry styles holiday fic #harry styles christmas fic #harry styles christmas

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incorrect-threehouses · 4 years ago

Text

Church of Seiros name etymology:

Wow, this was a demanding one to do. In general, most the forenames in the Church have a connection to saints or figures from the Abrahamic religions, while the surnames are similar to the names in the country they're originally from. For the green haired gang, the origins of their names come from Egyptian, Greek and Irish mythology

Sothis-

The Greek name for the Egyptian goddess Sopdet, the personification of the star Sirius, the brightest star in the sky. Sopdet was related to the annual floods and was said to be a guide for deceased Pharaohs through the underworld, and later seen as a mother figure

Rhea-

"flowing", the name of the wife of Kronos, lord of time, and the mother of the first 6 Olympian gods in Greek mythology. In Roman mythology, a woman named Rhea Silvia was the mother of Romulus and Remus, the founders of Rome.

Seiros-

derived from 'Seirios', meaning "scorching" in Greek. An alternative name for the star Sirius

Seteth-

may originate from Seth, meaning "placed" or "appointed" in Hebrew. The third named son of Adam and Eve and ancestor of Noah. Also the name of an Egyptian god of deserts, storms, disorder and violence, and Isis (who was previously Sopdet) plays an important role in his most important myth. It's also very similar to the Egyptian goddess Satis, an alternative spelling of which is 'Setet'. She was often conflated with Sopdet, and was a goddess of war, hunting and fertility, as well as a protector of the southern border

Cichol-

the earliest mentioned Fomorian in Irish mythology, monstrous, hostile beings that invaded Ireland from the sea and enemies of the first settlers. Cichol is said to be the leader of the Fomorians, and his followers survived for 200 years by fishing and fowling. His epithet (Gricenchos) roughly translates to 'of withered feet'

Flayn-

could come from Flann, meaning "red" in Irish Gaelic. Generally used as a masculine name and a friendly, cheerful nickname. May also be related to the name Finn, the name of the giant Fionn Mac Cumhaill, more commonly known as Finn McCool (a connection to Macuil)

Cethleann-

another of the Fomorians. She was a prophetess and foresaw her husband's death in battle. She also managed to wound the Dagda (Irish Zeus) with a projectile in said battle. She was known as 'Cethlenn of the Crooked Teeth'

Manuela Casagranda-

Manuela: a feminine form of Manuel, originating from Emmanuel meaning "god is with us".

Casagranda: alternative spelling of Casagrande, meaning "big house" (probably meant to be a link to the Mittelfrank Opera House)

Hanneman Von Essar-

Hanneman: a German name that comes from the Hanne, which is a diminutive of Johanne which has roots in John (why can names not be simple), meaning "YHWH is gracious". John is the name of the man who baptised Jesus and also the Apostle who wrote the fourth gospel and Revelations in the Bible. Also an Irish surname, stemming from O'Hannagain, which is derived from the word 'Annadh' meaning "delay". Edit: I found out that there is a Hindu god called Hanuman, who is seen as a symbol of devotion, strength, intelligence and selflessness.

Essar: derived from Isolde, the wife of Tristan in Arthurian legends, or the word 'ishild' in German, meaning "ice battle". I'm not sure if the names are connected, but there's also a Turkish name, 'Eser', meaning " product, achievement". Also sounds a bit like essay

Catherine/Cassandra Rubens Charon-

Catherine: Originally comes from the name of the Greek goddess of magic, Hecate (Hekaterine ->Aikaterine -> Katherine), but in the Christian era the meaning became "pure". Catherine is one of the great martyrs of Christianity, and the Emperor attempted to put her to death multiple times and failed each time until she accepted it herself. In that time she converted every person who met her to Christianity

Cassandra: from the Greek word meaning "to excel, to shine". In Greek myth she was a Trojan princess who was given the gift of prophecy by Apollo, but was cursed so no one would believe her prophecies when she spurned his advances

Rubens: Portuguese form of Reuben, meaning "behold, a son" in Hebrew. In the Old Testament Reuben was the ancestor of one of the twelve tribes of Israel and was part of the plot to kill his brother Joseph, but tried to rescue him.

Charon: translates to "fierce brightness", the ferryman of the underworld in Greek mythology who took the souls of the dead across the Acheron river. (Could be a link to Catherine's role as a Knight of Seiros, delivering justice(?))

Shamir Nevrand-

Shamir: a masculine Arabic name with multiple meanings, like "sharp thorn, flint", "precious stone", "sentinel". Comes from the Hebrew verb 'shamar' meaning "to guard". A material that King Solomon used to cut the stones to build the temple in Jerusalem

Nevrand: An alternate spelling of Nevra, the Turkish form of Nawra meaning "flower, blossom" in Arabic

Cyril-

a version of the Greek name 'Kyrillos', meaning "lordly, masterful". The name was borne by many important saints in Christianity

Gilbert Pronislav/Gustave Eddie Dominic-

Gilbert: "bright pledge", derived from the Germanic elements 'gisil', meaning "pledge, hostage" and 'beraht', meaning "bright". The name of a 12th century saint who founded the religious order of the Gilbertines

Gustave: French form of Gustav, which possibly means "staff of the Geats/Goths/Gods", and has roots in an old Norse name, Gautstafr. Could also be from the Slavic name Gostislav, meaning "glorious guest". Borne by many Swedish kings

(Also, Gustave Gilbert was an American psychologist who attempted to observe high-ranking Nazi officials during the Nuremberg trials)

Eddie: Diminutive of Edward, meaning "rich guard". A name given to many Anglo-Saxon kings, the last of which was canonised as At Edward the Confessor, patron saint of kings, difficult marriages, separated spouses and the British Royal Family. He was portrayed as a pious man

Pronislav: an alternate spelling of Bronislav, which is the Russian/Czech form of Branislav and means "warrior" or "defender of glory"

Jeritza Von Hrym/Emile Von Bartels-

Jeritza: I can't find any concrete meaning for this one, so I'll have to go off similar names instead (if anyone knows the real etymology, let me know). First is Yaritza, a feminine Spanish name that means "little butterfly", but I don't think this is very likely. Another name it could derive from is Jericho, a city in Israel mentioned many times in the Old Testament; while the meaning is unknown, it could stem from the Hebrew words yareach, "moon", or reyach, "fragment". There's also the possibility that it's related to the name George, meaning "farmer, earthworker", as farmers tend to use scythes. I suppose it's just as enigmatic as Jeritza himself

Emile: from the Roman name Aemilius, meaning "rival"

Hrym: From Thrym, a jötun in Norse mythology who stole Thor's hammer and planned to extort the gods into giving him the goddess Freya as his wife. He was slain by Thor dressed as Freya (best Norse myth, go read it)

Bartels: a short form of Bartholomew, meaning "son of Talmai". Talmai comes from the Hebrew word for "furrow", or is a Hebrew version of Ptolemy. Ptolemy was a mathematician, geographer and astronomer who proposed that the earth went round the sun, but it also means "war" (according to a source I found)

BONUS-

Byleth Eisner-

Byleth: Beleth was the king of hell in demonology, and the commander of 85 legions of demons. They ride a pale horse and all kinds of music is heard near them, and they were said to be first conjured by Noah's son to help him write a book on mathematics. Beleth is said to look fierce when first summoned to test the courage of the summoner, and one book says that the summoner should wear a silver ring on their middle finger on their left hand to pay respects to them. They had no specific gender (as far as I'm aware) and are also considered a demon of love and lust

Eisner: a German/Jewish occupational name for and ironmonger (the chemical symbol of which is Fe)

Jeralt Reus Eisner-

Jeralt: "ruler of the spear", a variant of Gerald (not really much else to say. Straight to the point, just like the man himself)

Reus: "giant" in Modern Dutch. One source also claims that it roughly translates to "the Russian" and was given to people who had travelled far away from there, but how true this is I'm not sure

#fire emblem three houses #fe three houses #church of seiros #fe sothis #fe rhea #archbishop rhea #fe seteth #fe flayn #manuela casagranda #hanneman von essar #catherine rubens charon #shamir nevrand #fe cyril #gilbert pronislav #jeritza von hrym #byleth eisner #jeralt reus eisner #etymology

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seblaine-rph · 4 years ago

Note

While you're looking into rps can we talk about Devereux Academy for a minute? A basic look at their main and rules reveals Kristin Stewart as an FC but she's asked repeatedly not to be used in rp, people getting originally tested for being Dom Switch or sub at 17, the rp wording is almost an exact replica of another rp that ran for a while, and they are allowing the Motta family to be whitewashed with a white Robert Pattinson FC. I'm sure theres more i was just too disgusted to keep looking.

This isn’t the first time I’ve been told to take a look at @devereuxacademy or heard about it being problematic. I can’t tell you about the dash and I’m not going to troll through everyone’s blogs, so if there is something on the dash that anyone would like to share with me (problematic plots, not tagging triggers, admin behavior,etc) then feel free to send another ask.

More than one person came to me when this rp first hit the tags, asking if I thought they had stolen parts of their rp. I reported this by answering multiple different asks about it and they never responded, which is very telling. Honestly, I think they did. Intentionally or not, they do have a lot of parts of other, existing roleplays in their plot and there are so many copy and pasted things that it looks to be done on purpose. You can say, “but it’s a D/s academy rp and there’s only so many ways to rp in a school, so of course it looks similar to other rps of the same genre” except for the part where even academy rps have their own unique plot points, including the history of the world, social economics, and the school as well as the history of the administration. And that wasn’t the last time it was brought to my attention, or the only reason. I do see it, if we’re looking for my opinion on the matter of stolen plot content. I can see at least three different roleplays that were already in the tags for a long time, weaved together to make this group. I don’t really see anything that is original in the plot or worldview info, aside from maybe the intense details on IVF as the reason for there being so many triplets. Don’t quote me on that, though, it may have been used before. I just haven’t seen it.

It weirds me out that they have all of their characters being thrust into nsfw situations before 18, with what should be an 18+ concept like BDSM, and at the same time they’re a discord rp as well as a tumblr rp. It says on their application that the characters are tested to find out which mark they are at 17. That’s a minor, being tested in a nsfw way because however you slice it BDSM and D/s are nsfw and nobody under the age of 18 can legally or morally be allowed to even dip a single toe in and that includes taking a test to find out what kinks they like and whether they’re going to want to be catching or receiving when it comes to sex. It just makes me wonder what’s being hidden in the discord. I’d also like to mention that they do have the option to play teachers as well as students, which is just weird and gross to me in this instance. The content is nsfw, clearly some students are going to get with teachers. It’s weird enough when it’s a sfw college rp and students do not smut with teachers, but being a teacher is a respectable character choice so I can see why you’d want to do it. If you were going to focus on talking to other teachers and developing plots with other teachers. In this instance though... the power dynamic between teachers and students are way different and there is a sexual overtone automatically because this is a kinky smut rp. You can also play a character as young as 21, which just makes me hope there are no relationships being written out by naive 21 year olds with their 30-40-50+, way more mature, could be their parent teacher. That might sound like I’m making up something that would never happen, but I have seen someone try to play a 62 year old lesbian that was predatory towards 19 year olds and even claimed one in a D/s rp like this. We all know how Glee rps work, we all know this line has already been crossed. We all also know why that’s gross- it’s an abuse of power and there is no way that a teacher/student dynamic could be cute because there will always be a sense of one person being way more mature than the other and being in a seat of power. Another reason to wonder what’s being hidden on this discord.

There are incorrectly casted families. In particular, I’m seeing POC families with fcs that should not belong because they do not match. I’d really like to know how it is that two Filipino girls and a black girl are twins. As a general note to the admins, you can’t erase half of someone’s ethnicity either. There are other families where one or more character is half right but also half wrong in an offensive way. And some families that are just wrong. I do give them props on some of this being right, but that doesn’t erase the other problems. You can’t whitewash people. Not all Asians are the same. Not all Latinx people are the same. Brown people aren’t interchangeable. Let me just list these so they’re easier to fix:

In the Adams family, Alex Newell is African-American but the fc has a sister that’s British, Polish and Caribbean. That might be picking at straws but I always find it offensive when people pick and choose how to group ethnicities- like deciding all Asians are the same so they can be related. Either way, she’s over half white which doesn’t match up.

Laura Harrier is Rachel Berry, she is half black and half white with Jewish background so that’s a really nice choice but then she’s twins with two Haliee Steinfeld fcs? Hailee who is Filipino... She’s also been accused of using the N word and being racist so she’s on a lot of people’s banned lists for the same reasons as Lea Michele.

Brianna Tju is in a Chinese family but she’s half Indonesian. She’s also a Disney Channel star, so some people find that problematic from the start, because most of her resources are from kid’s shows at an age that is too young to be roleplaying. She’s only 22 now, which is old enough to rp, however the only real resources she has are from something that aired in 2015 and was likely filmed in 2014 or earlier. When she was definitely a minor.

Kaya Scoldelario is Brazilian. She’s whitewashed by being placed in the Clarington family.

Zoe Deutch is Jewish. Her siblings are Matthew Daddario (Slovak, Italian, Irish, Hungarian, and English) and Haley Lu Richardson, who has a white background that doesn’t include Jewish. This is the Corcoran family as well, which should be Jewish, since they’re all related to Idina Menzel.

Victoria Pedretti is Jewish and she’s in the very white Evans family.

None of the older Fabrays are Jewish, and Ashley Johnson is Native American but also somehow a twin of the white Frannie Fabray.

Principal Figgins is played by someone that is Pakistani but the Figgins on the masterlist is played by Dev Patel, who is Gujarati Indian.

Tyler Hoechlin is also partially Native American, but he is placed in the Flangan (Irish, like straight out of Ireland) family that has Rory recast as Thomas Dogherty (Scottish) with an Ariana Grande (Italian) twin as well.

Kristen Stewart is on the masterlist but she has asked numerous times not to be used in roleplay because it makes her uncomfortable. I just covered this for another roleplay, and I’ve seen other people mention it, so it’s common knowledge at this point. She has been saying this for a long time. She’s also placed as the twin of Danielle Campbell, who is Mexican and Cajun French while Kristen is just white and the canon family member (Gilbert, so Adam Lambert) is Jewish.

Zendaya is also placed as a twin to Samantha Ware. Zendaya is mixed race, half black and half white, while Samantha is black.

Yvette Monreal is the twin to Demi Lovato. Yvette is Chilean. Demi is Mexican and Portuguese.

Avan Jogia is a Hart, but he is Gujarati Indian and white. He would be a better family relation to Dev Patel than anyone else on the masterlist and vice versa. As a refresher, Samuel Larsen (the canon fc for the Hart family) is Mexican, Danish, Spanish and Persian.

Maddison Jaizani is Iranian, but she’s listed as a Holliday which makes her related to Gwyneth Paltrow... a blonde, white woman.

Jacob Elordia is Basque and his sibling on the masterlist is Marie Avgeropoulos, a Greek actress.

Rafael Silva is Brazilian, but he is a Lopez triplet, related to a Mexican-Irish sister (Lindsay Morgan) and a Mexican-Jewish sister (Alexa Demie).

Sugar Motta is played by Vanessa Lengies on Glee, an Egyptian actress. Her family is whitewashed with two white fcs, Kelli Berglung and Robert Pattinson.

Kaylee Byrant is Japanese but she is twin to Madison Beer (Jewish) and Daisy Ridley (white).

The Puckerman family has lost its Jewish heritage. The only two on Noah’s side are Adelaide Kane (white) and Luke Pasqualino (Italian). Jake Puckerman has been recast as Justice Smith, who is half black and half white but is not Jewish. His sister is Samantha Logan who is half Trinidadian and half white and Pauline Singer, who is full Fijian.

Antonia Gentry is cast as a Weston. She is Jamaican, her listed twin is half white and half African-American. The newest acceptance for a Weston is for an African American fc.

Lili Reinhart is on the masterlist, but she’s problematic. She’s defended the abusive behavior of her cast mate, Cole Sprouse, who was very publicly accused of sexual assault and abuse. She’s also been accused of blackface annnnnnnd she’s used queer baiting to get people to watch the show. (She teased a girl on girl relationship publicly, telling people to watch the show because they might finally get to see something between Betty and Veronica, knowing that the fans wanted it, but then when she was asked about it in a later interview she scoffed and acted like it was absolutely impossible and would never happen, some would say she even sounded offended by the thought-- which is what everyone got mad at Melissa Benoist for doing with Supergirl.)

David Corenswet is Jewish, cast with Emily Browning as a sister, who is not.

I applaud the Brazilian change for Lauren Zizes, but Ashley Fink was a welcome representation of plus size actresses and the new fc is less than half her size. She’s still plus size technically, but she’s “model plus size,” which is not at all the same as Lauren’s body type. I ran this by someone that this change would affect and they were not pleased. They were the one that pointed this out to me, because it bothered them as a plus size person to see one of the few plus size characters recasted with a skinnier fc.

Dove Cameron is also on the masterlist, but she’s on a bunch of people’s banned lists. She replied to a fan that said they wanted her to notice them that they were stupid and had no life if that was one of their goals. She’s been rude to cast and crew on set. Dove has also been accused of throwing a fit and making the writers change the Descendants script to take the relationship that was written out for a black actress. She’s being accused of yellow fishing, which I believe is the term for trying to look Asian. She wore a Native American headdress in a cultural appropriation type of way. She’s been accused of being fatphobic and hiding behind photoshop on her social media while saying she doesn’t photoshop, so she’s giving off a false sense of reality to her fans. She’s been talking badly about someone that is trying to get their sexual assault story out there. The latest thing that’s come out about her is a rant about how mental health isn’t real and that people just need to logic their way out of depression? Which would be coming from a seat of high privilege. She wrote a series of tweets on the topic, calling negative mental health and the feelings they cause “a choice.” There’s a whole hashtag on Tumblr for her.

I’m not at all surprised to see that all of the diverse characters are open. No Artie, no Unique- who could definitely be recast as an actual trans woman, now that we’re living in the age of recasting for reasons of problematic natures- if we can have a new Puck, new Finn, new Rachel, and new Santana why not an appropriate Unique? She is literally the only canon trans woman, why not treat her with respect? They recasted Cooper to better fit the proper ethnicity, so...

#glee rph #glee rp #glee twin rp #glee multiples rp #smut rp #ds rp #kink rp #rph #rpcw #rpcha #sebastian answers #devereuxacademy #Anonymous

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