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wits-writing · 4 years ago

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What’s so Funny About Vengeance, the Night, and Batman? – Two Superhero Parodies in Conversation

Back in 2016, the first trailers for Director Chris McKay’s The Lego Batman Movie hit. A spinoff of the take on the iconic hero, voiced by Will Arnett, from 2014’s The Lego Movie. Those trailers spelled out a plot covering how Batman’s life of crimefighting is turned upside down when Robin unexpectedly enters the picture. It was a funny trailer, promising another insightful comedy from the crew behind The Lego Movie. A promise it handily delivered on when it came out in February 2017 with an animated feature steeped wall-to-wall jokes for the sake of mocking Bruce Wayne’s angst filled crusade that can only come from understanding what’s made the character withstand the test of time.

But there was a thought I and others had from seeing that trailer up to watching the actual movie:

“This seems… familiar.”

Holy Musical B@man! is a 2012 fan-made stage production parody of DC Comics’ biggest cash cow. It was produced as the fifth musical from YouTube-based cult phenomenon Starkid Productions, from a book by Matt and Nick Lang, music by Nick Gage and Scott Lamp with lyrics by Gage. The story of the musical details how Robin’s unexpected entrance ends up turning Batman’s (Joe Walker) life of crimefighting upside down. Among Starkids’ fandom derived projects in their early existence, as they’ve mainly moved on to well-received original material in recent years, Holy Musical B@man! is my personal favorite. I go back to it frequently, appreciating it as a fan of both superheroes and musicals. (Especially since good material that touches on both of those isn’t exactly easy to come by. Right, Spider-Man?)

While I glibly summarized the similarities between them by oversimplifying their plots, there’s a lot in the details, both major and minor, that separates how they explore themes like solitude, friendship, love, and what superhero stories mean. It’s something I’ve wanted to dig into for a while and I found a lot in both of them I hadn’t considered before by putting them in conversation. I definitely recommend watching both of them, because of how in-depth this piece goes including discussing their endings. However, nothing I can say will replace the experience of watching them and if I had included everything I could’ve commented on in both of them, this already massive piece would easily be twice as long minimum.

Up front, I want to say this isn’t about comparing The Lego Batman Movie and Holy Musical B@man in terms of quality. Not only are they shaped for vastly different mediums with different needs/expectations, animation versus stagecraft, but they also had different resources at their disposal. Even if both are in some ways riffing on the aesthetic of the 1990s Batman movies and the Adam West TV show, Lego Batman does it with the ability to make gorgeously animated frames packed to the brim with detail while Holy Musical often leans into its low-fi aesthetic of characters miming props and sets to add extra humor. They’re also for different audiences, Lego Batman clearly for all-ages while Holy Musical has the characters cursing for emphasis on a regular basis. On top of those factors, after picking through each of these for everything worth commenting on that I could find, I can’t say which I wholly prefer thanks in part to these fundamental differences.

This piece is more about digging through the details to explore the commonalities, differences, and what makes them effective mocking love letters to one of the biggest superheroes in existence.

(Also, since I’m going to be using the word “Batman” a lot, I’ll be calling Lego Batman just “Batman” and referring to the version from Holy Musical as “B@man”, with the exception of quoted dialogue.)

[Full Piece Under the Cut]

Setting the Tone

The beginning is, in fact, a very good place to start when discussing how these parodies frame their versions of the caped crusader. Each one uses a song about lavishing their respective Batmen with praise about how they are the best superheroes ever and play over sequences of the title hero kicking wholesale ass. A key distinction comes in who’s singing each song. Holy Musical B@man’s self-titled opening number is sung from the perspective of an omniscient narrator recounting B@man’s origin and later a chorus made up of the Gotham citizenry. Meanwhile, “Who’s the (Bat) Man” from Lego Batman is a brag-tacular song written by Batman about himself, even playing diegetically for all his villains to hear as he beats them up.

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Holy Musical opens on a quick recap of Batman’s origin:

“One shot, Two shots in the night and they’re gone And he’s all left alone He’s just one boy Two dead at his feet and their blood stains the street And there’s nothing, no there’s nothing he can do!”

We then get a Bat-dance break as the music goes from slow and moody to energetic to reflect Batman turning that tragedy into the driving force behind his one-man war on crime. Assured by the narrator that he’s “the baddest man that there’s ever been!” and “Now there’s nothing, no there’s nothing he can’t do!” flipping the last lyric of the first verse. For the rest of the opening scene the lyrics matter less than what’s happening to establish both this fan-parody’s version of Batman and how the people of Gotham (“he’ll never refuse ‘em”) view him.

Lego Batman skips the origin recap, and in general talks around the death of the Waynes to keep the light tone going since it’s still a kids movie about a popular toy even if there are deeper themes at play. Instead, it continues a trend The Lego Movie began for this version of the character writing music about how he’s an edgy, dark, awesome, cool guy. While that movie kept it to Batman angry-whiteboy-rapping about “Darkness! NO PARENTS!”, this one expands to more elaborate boasts in the song “Who’s the (Bat) Man” by Patrick Stump:

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“In the darkest night I make the bad guys fall There’s a million heroes But I’m the best of them all!”

Batman singing this song about himself, as opposed to having it sung by others aims the crosshairs of parody squarely on the hero’s ego. His abilities make fighting his villains effortless, like this opening battle is more an opportunity to perform the song than a life-or-death struggle. Even Joker’s aware of that as he shouts, “Stop him before he starts singing!” This Batman doesn’t see himself as missing out on anything in life, even if he still feels that deep down. Being Batman is the coolest thing in the world that anyone would envy. He’s Batman, therefore everyone should envy him.

The songs aren’t only part of the equation for how these two works’ opening scenes establish their leading hero. While both songs are about Batman being cool, they’re separated by the accompanying scenes. Lego Batman keep the opening within the Joker’s perspective until Batman shows up and the action kicks in. Once it does, we’re shown a Batman at the top of his solo-hero game. Meanwhile, Holy Musical’s opening is about B@man building his reputation and by the end of the song he has all the citizens of Gotham singing his praises with the titular lyrics. Both are about being in awe of the title hero, one framed by Joker’s frustration at Batman’s ease in foiling his schemes yet again and the other about the people of Gotham growing to love their city’s hero (probably against their better judgement.)

That’s woven into the fabric of what kind of schemes Batman is foiling in each of these. Joker’s plan to bomb Gotham with the help of every supervillain in Batman’s Rogues Gallery is hilariously high stakes and the type of plan most Batman stories, even parodies, would save for the climax. Neatly exemplified by how that’s almost the exact structure of Holy Musical’s final showdown. Starting with these stakes works as an extension of this Batman’s nature as a living children’s toy and therefore the embodiment of a child’s idea of what makes Batman cool, his ability to wipe the floor with anyone that gets in his way “because he’s Batman.” It also emphasizes Joker as the only member of the Rogues Gallery that matters to Lego Batman’s story, every other Bat-villain is either a purely visual cameo or only gets a couple lines maximum.

The crime’s being stopped by B@man are more in the “Year One” gangster/organized crime category rather than anything spectacle heavy. Though said crimes are comically exaggerated:

Gangster 1: Take these here drugs, put ‘em into them there guns, and then hand ‘em out to those gamblin’ prostitutes! Gangster 2: Should we really be doing these illegal activities? In a children’s hospital for orphans?

These fit into that model of crime the Dark Knight fights in his early days and add tiny humanizing moments between the crooks (“Oh, Matches! You make me laugh like nobody else!”) in turn making the arrival of B@man and the violence he deals out a stronger punchline. Further emphasized by the hero calling out the exact physical damage he does with each hit before warning them to never do crime again saying, “Support your families like the rest of us! Be born billionaires!” Later in the song his techniques get more extreme and violence more indiscriminate, as he uses his Bat-plane to patrol and gun down whoever he sees as a criminal, including a storeowner accidentally taking a single dollar from his own register. (“God’s not up here! Only Batman!”)

A commonality between these two openings is how Commissioner Jim Gordon gets portrayed. Both are hapless goofs at their core, playing more on the portrayal of the character in the 60s TV show and 90s Burton/Schumacher movies than the serious-minded character present in comics, Nolan’s Dark Knight Trilogy, and other adaptations. Lauren Lopez’s portrayal in Holy Musical gets overwhelmed by everything thrown at him, eventually giving up and getting out of B@man’s way (“I’m not gonna tell Batman what to do! He’s Batman!”) Hector Elizondo’s Gordon in Lego Batman clearly reached the “stay out of Batman’s way” point a long time ago, happy to have “the guy who flips on the Bat-signal” be his sole defining trait. While the characterizations are close, their roles do end up differing. Lopez’s Gordon sticks around to have a few more comedic scenes as the play goes on, where Elizondo’s exist to set up a contrast with his daughter Barbara and her way of approaching Batman when she becomes Police Commissioner.

These opening sequences both end in similar manners as well; the citizens of Gotham lavishing praise on their respective Batmen and a confrontation between Batman and the Joker. Praise from the citizenry in Holy Musical comes on the heels of a letter from B@man read out on the news about how much they and the city of Gotham suck. They praise B@man for his angsty nature as a “dark hero” and how they “wouldn’t want him any other way!”, establishing the motif of Gotham’s citizens in Holy Musical as stand-ins for the Batman fandom. Lego Batman uses the praise of the Gotham citizens after Batman’s victory in the opening scene as a lead in to contrast their certainty that Batman must have an exciting private life with the reality we’re shown. Which makes sense since Lego-Batman’s relationship to the people of Gotham is never presented as something at stake.

Greater contrast comes in how the confrontations with the Joker are handled, Lego Batman has an argument between the hero and villain that’s intentionally coded as relationship drama, Batman saying “There is no ‘us’” when Joker declares himself Batman’s greatest enemy. The confrontation in Holy Musical gets purposefully underplayed as an offstage encounter narrated to the audience as a Vicki Vale news report. This takes Joker off the board for the rest of the play in contrast to the Batman/Joker relationship drama that forms one of Lego Batman’s key pillars. While they take different forms, the respective citizenry praise and villain confrontation parts of these openings lead directly into the number one common thematic element between these Bat-parodies: Batman’s loneliness.

One is the Darkest, Saddest, Loneliest Number

Batman as an isolated hero forms one of the core tenants of the most popular understanding of the character. Each of these parodies picks at that beyond the broody posturing. There’s no dedicated segment in this piece about how these works’ versions of the title character function bleeds into every other aspect of them, but each starts from the idea of Batman as a man-child with trouble communicating his emotions. Time’s taken to give the audience a view of where their attitudes have left them early in the story.

Both heroes show their loneliness through interactions with their respective Alfreds. Holy Musical has the stalwart butler, played by Chris Allen, try to comfort B@man by asking if he has any friends he enjoys being around. When B@man cites Lucius Fox as a friend he calls him right away, only to discover Lucius Fox is Alfred’s true identity and Alfred Pennyworth was an elaborate ruse he came up with to protect Bruce on his father’s wishes. Ironically, finding out his closest friend was living a double life causes Bruce to push Alfred away (the play keeps referring to him as Alfred after this, so that’s what I’m going to do as well.) After he’s fired he immediately comes back in a new disguise as “O’Malley the Irish Butler” (same outfit he wore before but with a Party City Leprechaun hat.) That’s unfortunately the start of a running gag in Holy Musical that ends up at the worst joke in the play, when Alfred disguises himself as “Quon Li the Chinese Butler” doing an incredibly cringeworthy “substituting L’s for R’s” bit with his voice. It’s been my least favorite bit in the play since I first saw it in 2012 and legitimately makes me hesitate at times to recommend it. Even if it’s relatively small bit and the rest holds ups.

That disclaimer out of the way, that conversation between B@man and Alfred leads into the title hero reflecting on his sadness through the musical’s I Want Song, “Dark, Sad, Lonely Knight.” The song’s split into two halves, the first Alfred reflecting on whether he played a part in Bruce’s current condition and the second B@man longing for a connection. The song does a good job balancing between the sincerity over the hero’s sadness and getting good laughs out of it:

“Think of the children Next time you gun down the mama and papa Their only mama and papa Because they probably don’t have another mama and papa!”

The “I Want” portion of the song coming in the end with the repetition of the lryics “I want to be somebody’s buddy.”

Rather than another song number, Lego Batman covers Batman’s sadness through a pair of montages and visual humor. The first comes after the opening battle, where we see Batman taking off all his costume except for the mask hanging out alone in Wayne Manor, showing how little separation he puts between identities. Compared to Holy Musical where the equivalent scene is the first we see of Bruce without the mask on, which may come down to practicality since anyone who’s worn a mask like that knows they get hot and sweaty fast. Batman is constantly made to appear small among the giant empty rooms of his estate as he eats dinner, jams on his guitar, and watches romantic movies alone.

Ralph Fienne’s Alfred coming in at the end of this sequence witnessing Batman looking at a photo of himself as a boy with his parents for the last time. Alfred outlines Batman’s fear of being part of a family again only to be met with Batman denying he has any feelings ever. Pennyworth’s role as a surrogate father gets put into greater focus here than in Holy Musical, as we get glimpses of Alfred reading a book titled “How to Deal with Your Out-of-Control Child.” Also shown in smaller scenes of Alfred dealing with Batman’s insistent terminology for his crime fighting equipment, like calling his cowl an “armored face disguise.”

Batman’s denial of his pain contrasts how B@man wallows in it. Though he’s forced to confront it a little as the Joker’s plan ends up leaving him with no crimefighting to fall back on to ignore his issues. This montage gets set to the song “One” by Harry Nilsson and details Batman, unable to express his true feelings, eventually letting them out in the form of tempter tantrums. There’s also some humor through juxtaposition as Batman walks solemnly through the streets of Gotham City, rendered black and white, as the citizens chant “No more crime!” in celebration, while flipping over cars and firing guns into the air.

A disruption to their loneliness eventually comes in the form of a sensational character find.

Robin – The Son/BFF Wonder

Between both Bat-parodies, the two Robins’ characterizations are as close as anyone’s between them. Each is nominally Dick Grayson but are ultimately more representative of the idea of Robin as the original superhero sidekick and his influence on Batman’s life. The play and movie also both make the obvious jokes about Dick’s name and the classic Robin costume’s lack of pants at different points. Dick’s origin also gets sidestepped in each version to skip ahead to the part where he starts being an influence in Batman’s life.

Robin’s introduction to the comics in Detective Comics #38 in 1940, marking the start of Batman’s literal “Year Two” as a character, predating the introduction of Joker, Catwoman, and Alfred, among others. Making him Batman’s longest lasting ally in the character’s history. His presence and acrobatics shift the tone by adding a dash of swashbuckling to Batman’s adventures, inspired by the character’s namesake Robin Hood, though both parodies take a page out of Batman Forever and associate the name with the bird for the sake of a joke. Robin is as core to Batman as his origin, but more self-serious adaptations (i.e., the mainstream cinematic ones that were happening around the times both Holy Musical and Lego Batman came out) tend to avoid the character’s inclusion. These two works being parody, therefore anything but self-serious, give themselves permission to examine why Robin matters and how different characters react to his presence. Rejection of Robin as a character and concept comes out in some form in each of these works, from Batman himself in Lego Batman and the Gotham citizens in Holy Musical.

The chain of events that lead to Dick becoming Robin in Lego Batman are a string of consequences for Batman’s self-absorption. A scene of Bruce barely listening as Dick asks for advice on getting adopted escalating to absentmindedly signing the adoption paperwork. Batman doesn’t realize he has a son until after his sadness montage. Alfred forces Batman to start interacting with Dick against his will. The broody loner wanting nothing to do with the cheery kid, played to “golly gee gosh” perfection by Michael Cera, until he sees the utility of him. Batman doesn’t even have the idea to give Robin a costume or codename because he clearly views the sidekick’s presence as a temporary measure for breaking into Superman’s fortress, made clear by how he lists “expendable” as a quality Dick needs if he wants to go on a mission.

This makes Robin the catalyst for Batman’s shifting perspective throughout Lego Batman. When Robin succeeds in his first mission, the Dark Knight is hesitant to truly compliment him and chalks up his ward’s feats to “unbelievable obeying.” Other moments have Robin’s presence poke holes in Batman’s tough guy demeanor, like the first time Batman and Robin ride in the Bat-mobile together, Robin asks where the seatbelts are and Batman growls “Life doesn’t give you seatbelts!”, only for Batman to make a sudden stop causing Robin to hit his head on the windshield and Batman genuinely apologizes. They share more genuine moments together as the film goes, like Batman suggesting they beatbox together to keeps their spirits up after they’ve been imprisoned for breaking into Arkham Asylum. Robin’s representative of Batman gradually letting people in throughout these moments.

On the exact opposite end of the spectrum, B@man needs zero extra prompting to let Robin into his life. Nick Lang’s Robin (henceforth called “Rob!n” to keep with this arbitrary naming scheme I’ve concocted) does get brought into his life by Alfred thanks to a personal ad (“‘Dog for sale’? No… ‘Orphan for sale’! Even better!”) but it’s a short path to B@man deciding to let Dick fight alongside him. The briefest hesitance on the hero’s part, “To be Batman… is to be alone”, is quelled by Rob!n saying “We could be alone… together.” Their first scene together quickly establishing the absurd sincerity exemplified by this incarnation of the Dynamic Duo. An energy carried directly into the Act 1 closing number, “The Dynamic Duet”, a joyful ode between the heroes about how they’re “Long lost brothers who found each other” sung as they beat up supervillains (and the occasional random civilian.)

That song also ties into the contrast between the Batman/Robin dynamic and the B@man/Rob!n one. While Holy Musical is portraying a brotherly/BFF bond between the two heroes, Lego Batman leans into the surrogate son angle. While both are mainly about their stories’ Batman being able to connect with others, the son angle of Lego Batman adds an additional layer of “Batman needs to take responsibility for himself and others” and a parallel to Alfred as Batman’s own surrogate father. It also adds to the queer-coding of Batman in Lego Batman as Batman’s excuse to Robin for why he can go on missions is that Bruce and he are sharing custody, Robin even calling Batman’s dual identities “dads” before he knows the truth.

In the absence of the accepting personal responsibility through fatherhood element, the conflict Rob!n brings out in Holy Musical forms between B@man and the citizens of Gotham. “Citizens as stand-ins for fandom” is at it’s clearest here as the Act 2 opener is called “Robin Sucks!” featuring the citizens singing about how… well, you read the title. Their objections to Rob!n’s existence has nothing to do with what the young hero has done or failed to do, but come from arguments purely about the aesthetic of Rob!n fighting alongside B@man. Most blatantly shown by one of the citizens wearing a Heath Ledger Joker t-shirt saying Rob!n’s presence “ruins the gritty realism of a man who fights crime dressed as a bat.” It works as the Act 2 opener by establishing that B@man and the citizens conflicting opinions on his sidekick end up driving that half of the story, exemplified in B@man’s complete confusion about why people hate Rob!n (“Robin ruined Batman? But that’s not true… Robin make Batman happy.”)

Both Robins play into the internal conflict their respective mentors are going through, but what would a superhero story, even a parody, be without some colorful characters to provide that sweet external conflict.

Going Rogue

Both works have the threat comes from an army of villains assembled under a ringleader, Zach Galifianakis’s Joker in Lego Batman and Jeff Blim as Sweet Tooth in Holy Musical. Both lead the full ensemble of Batman’s classic (and not so classic) Rogues at different points. As mentioned before Joker starts Lego Batman with “assemble the Rogues, blow up Gotham” as his plan, while Sweet Tooth with his candy prop comedy becoming the ringleader of Gotham’s villains is a key turning point in Act 1 of the play. Part of this comes down to how their connections to their respective heroes and environments are framed, Sweet Tooth as a new player on the scene and Joker as Batman’s romantic foil.

Lego Batman demonstrates Batman and Joker are on “finishing each other’s sentences” levels of intimate that Batman refuses to acknowledge. Shown best in how Joker’s plan only works because he can predict exactly how Batman will act once he starts playing hard to get. When he surrenders the entire Rogues Gallery (without telling them) and himself to police custody, he describes it as him being “off the market.” He knows Batman won’t settle for things ending on these terms and tricks the hero into stealing Superman’s Phantom Zone projector so he can recruit a new, better team of villains for a take two of his masterplan from the start. Going through all this trouble to get Batman to say those three magic words; “I love hate you.” Joker as the significant other wanting his partner to finally reciprocate his feelings and commit works both as a play on how the Batman/Joker relationship often gets approached and an extension of the central theme. Batman is so closed off to interpersonal connections he can’t even properly hate his villains.

Sweet Tooth, while clearly being a riff Heath Ledger and Caesar Romero’s Jokers fused with a dash of Willy Wonka, doesn’t have that kind of connection with B@man. Though there are hints that B@man and his recently deceased Joker may have had one on that level. He laments “[Joker]’s in heaven with mom and dad. Making them laugh, I know it!” when recalling how the Clown Prince of Crime was the one person he enjoyed being around. This makes Joker’s death one of the key triggers to B@man reflecting on his solitude at the start of the play.

What Sweet Tooth provides the story is a threat to B@man’s new bond with Rob!n. Disrupting that connection forms the delicious center of the Candy King of Crime’s plan in Act 2. He holds Rob!n and Gotham’s people hostage and asks the citizens to decide via Facebook poll if the sidekick lives or dies (in reference to the infamous phone hotline vote from the comic book story A Death in the Family where readers could decide the Jason Todd Robin’s fate.)

With the rest of the villains under the leadership of the respective works’ main antagonists, there’s commentary on their perceived quality as threats. When Holy Musical has Superman talking to Green Lantern about how much B@man’s popularity frustrates him, he comes down especially hard on the Caped Crusader’s villains. Talking about how they all coast by on simple gimmicks with especially harsh attention given to Two Face’s being “the number two.” Saying they’re only famous because B@man screws up and they get to do more damage. Which he compares to his own relationship with his villains:

Superman: You ever heard of Mr. Mxyzptlk? Green Lantern: No. Superman: No, that’s right! That’s because I do my job!

Lego Batman has commentary on the other villains come from Joker, recognizing that even all together they can never beat Batman, because that’s how a Batman story goes. The other villains get portrayed as generally buffoonish, struggling to even build a couch together and described by Joker as “losers dressed in cosplay.” Tricking Batman into sending him to the Phantom Zone provides him the opportunity to gather villains from outside Batman’s mythos and outside DC Comics in general. Recruiting the likes of Sauron, King Kong, Daleks, Agent Smith from The Matrix, and the Wicked Witch of the West, among others. When I first saw and reviewed The Lego Batman Movie, this bugged me because it felt like a missed opportunity to feature lesser-known villains from other DC heroes’ Rogues Galleries. Now, considering the whole movie as meta-commentary on the status of this Batman as a children’s toy, it makes perfect sense that Joker would need to go outside of comics to break the rules of a typical Batman story and have a shot at winning.

The Rogues of Holy Musical get slightly more of a chance to shine, if only because their song “Rogues are We” is one of the catchier tracks from the play. They’re all still more cameo than character when all’s said and done, but Sweet Tooth entering the picture is about him recognizing their potential to operate as a unit, takeover Gotham, and kill B@man. The candy-pun flinging villain wants all of them together, no matter their perceived quality.

Sweet Tooth: “We need every villain in Gotham. Cool themes, lame themes, themes that don’t match their powers, even the villains that take their names from public domain stories.” (Two Face’s “broke ass” still being the exception.)

Both Joker and Sweet Tooth provide extensions of the shared theme of Batman dealing with the new connections in his life, especially with regards to Robin. However, Robin isn’t the only other ally (or potential ally) these Dark Knights have on their side.

Super Friends(?)

The internal crisis of these Caped Crusaders come as much from how they react to other heroic figures as it does from supervillainous machinations. In both cases how Batman views and is viewed by fellow heroes gets centered on a specific figure, Superman in Holy Musical and Commissioner Barbara Gordon (later Batgirl) in Lego Batman. Each serves a vastly different purpose in the larger picture of their stories and relationship to their respective Batmen. Superman reflecting B@man’s loneliness and Barbara symbolizing a new path forward for Batman’s hero work.

Superman’s role in Holy Musical runs more parallel to Lego Batman’s Joker than Barbara. Brian Holden’s performance as the Man of Tomorrow plays into a projected confidence covering anxiety that nobody likes him. Besting the Bat-plane in a race during B@man’s Key to the City ceremony establishes a one upmanship between the two heroes, like Joker’s description of his relationship with Batman at the end of Lego Batman’s opening battle. Though instead of that romantically coded relationship from Lego Batman, this relationship is more connected to childish jealousy. (But if you do want to read the former into Holy Musical B@man, neither hero has an onstage relationship with any woman and part of their eventual fight consist of spanking each other.)

B@man and Superman’s first real interaction is arguing over who’s the cooler hero until it degrades into yelling “Fuck you!” at each other. B@man storming off in the aftermath of that gets topped off by Superman suggesting he should get the Key to the City instead, citing his strength and longer tenure as a hero (“The first hero, by the way”) as justifications. This only results in the Gotham citizens turning on him for suggesting their city’s hero is anything less than the best, which serves both as a Sam Raimi Spider-Man reference (“You mess with one of us! You mess with all of us!”) and another example of the citizens as stand-ins for fandom. Superman’s veil of cocksureness comes off quickly after that and stays off for the rest of the play. Starting with his conversation with Green Lantern where a civilian comes across them, but barely acts like Superman’s there.

One of the play’s running gags is Superman calling B@man’s number and leaving messages, showing a desperation to reach out and connect with his fellow hero despite initial smugness. Even before the first phone call scene, we see Superman joining B@man to sing “I want to be somebody’s buddy” during “Dark, Sad, Lonely Knight” hinting at what’s to come. The note it consistently comes back to is that Superman’s jealousy stems from Batman’s popularity over him. This is a complete flip of what Lego Batman does with the glimpse at a Batman/Superman dynamic we see when Batman goes to the Superman’s fortress to steal the Phantom Zone projector. The rivalry dynamic there exists solely in Batman’s head, Lego-Superman quickly saying “I would crush you” when Batman suggests the idea of them fighting. Superman’s status among the other DC heroes is also night and day between these works. Where Lego-Superman’s only scene in the movie shows him hosting the Justice League Anniversary Party and explaining he “forgot” to invite Batman, Superman in Holy Musical consistently lies about having friends over (“All night long I’m busy partying with my friends at the Fortress… of Solitude.”)

Superman’s relationship to B@man in Holy Musical develops into larger antagonism thanks to lack of communication with B@man brushing off Supes’ invitations to hang out and fight bad guys (“Where were you for the Solomon Grundy thing? Ended up smaller than I thought, just a couple of cool guys. Me and… Solomon Grundy.”) His own loneliness gets put into stronger focus when he sees the news of Rob!n’s debut as a crimefighter, which makes him reflect on how he misses having Krypto the Super-Dog around. (The explanation for why he doesn’t have his dog anymore is one of my favorite jokes in the play and I won’t ruin it here.)

Where Superman’s a reflection of B@man’s loneliness, Rosario Dawson as Barbara in Lego Batman is a confrontation of Batman’s go it alone attitude. Her job in the story is to be the one poking holes in the foundation of Batman as an idea, starting with her speech at Jim Gordon’s retirement banquet and her instatement as commissioner. She has a by-the-book outlook on crimefighting with the omnicompetence to back it up, thanks to her training at “Harvard for Police.” Babs sees Batman’s current way of operating as ineffectual and wants him to be an official agent of the law. An idea that dumps a bucket of cold water on Batman’s crush he developed immediately upon seeing her, though that never fully goes away.

Her main point is that Batman “karate chopping poor people” hasn’t made Gotham better in his 80 years of operating. A contrast to Holy Musical’s Jim Gordon announcing that B@man has brought Gotham’s crime rates to an all-time low (“Still the highest in the world, but we’re working on it.”) She wants to see a Batman willing to work with other people. A hope dashed constantly dealing with his childish stubbornness as he tries to foil Joker’s schemes on his own, culminating in her arresting Batman and Robin for breaking into Arkham to send Joker to the Phantom Zone.

Barbara’s role as the one bringing grown-up attitudes and reality into Batman’s world does leave her in the role of comedic straight woman. Humor in her scenes comes from how she reacts to everyone else’s absurdity rather than anything she does to be funny. This works for the role she plays in Lego Batman, since she’s not there to have an arc the way Superman does in Holy Musical. She’s another catalyst for Batman’s to start letting people in as another character he grows to care about. Which starts after she lets the Dynamic Duo out of prison to fight Joker’s new army of Phantom Zone villains on the condition that he plays it by her rules. Leading to a stronger bond between Batman, Robin, Alfred, and her as they start working together.

The two Batmen’s relationships to other heroes, their villains, Robin, and their own solitude each culminate in their own way as their stories reach their conclusions.

Dark Knights & Dawning Realizations

As everything comes down to the final showdowns in these Bat-parodies, the two Caped Crusaders each confront their failures to be there for others and allow themselves to be vulnerable to someone they’ve been antagonizing throughout the story. Each climax has all of Gotham threatened by a bomb and the main villains’ plans coming to fruition only to come undone.

Holy Musical has Sweet Tooth’s kidnapping of Rob!n and forcing Gotham to choose themselves or the sidekick they hate sends B@man into his most exaggerated state in the entire play. It’s the classic superhero movie climax conundrum, duty as a hero versus personal attachment. Alfred, having revealed himself as the “other butlers”, even lampshades how these stories usually go only for that possibility to get shot down by Bruce:

Alfred: A true hero, Master Wayne, finds a way to choose both. B@man: You’re right, Alfred. I know what I have to do… Fuck Gotham, I’m saving Robin!

B@man’s selfishness effectively makes him the real villain of Holy Musical’s second act. Lego Batman has shades of that aspect as well, where Batman gets sent to the Phantom Zone by Joker for his repeated refusal to acknowledge their relationship. Where the AI running the interdimensional prison, Phyllis voiced by Ellie Kemper, confronts him with the way he’s treated Robin, Alfred, Barbara, and even Joker:

Phyllis: You’re not a traditional bad guy, but you’re not exactly a good guy either. You even abandoned your friends. Batman: No! I was trying to protect them! Phyllis: By pushing them away? Batman: Well… yeah. Phyllis: Are they really the ones you’re protecting?

Batman watches what’s happening back in Gotham and sees Robin emulate his grim and gritty tendencies to save the day in his absence makes him desperately scream, “Don’t do what I would do!” It’s the universe rubbing what a jerk he’s been in his face. He’s forced to take a look at himself and make a change. B@man’s not made to do that kind of self-reflection until after he’s defeated Sweet Tooth but failed to stop the villain’s bomb. He’s ready to give up on Gotham forever and leave with Rob!n, until his sidekick pulls up Sweet Tooth’s poll and it shows the unanimous result in favor of saving the Boy Wonder. Despite everything they said at the start of Act 2, the people want to help their hero in return for all the times he helped them. All of them calling back to the Raimi Spider-Man reference from Act 1, “You mess with one of us. You mess with all of us.”

Both heroes’ chance at redemption and self-improvement comes from opening themselves up to the people they pushed out and dismissed earlier in their stories. Batman takes on the role he reduced the Commissioner down to at the beginning of the movie and flips on signals for Barbara, Alfred, and Robin to show how he’s truly prepared to work as a team, not just with his friends and family but with the villains of Gotham the Joker pushed aside as well. Teamwork makes the dream work and they’re all able to work together to get Joker’s army back into the Phantom Zone but like in Holy Musical they fail to stop the bomb threatening Gotham. Which he can only prevent from destroying the city by confessing his true feeling to Joker

Batman: If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have learned how connected I am with all of these people and you. So, if you help me save Gotham, you’ll help me save us. Joker: You just said “us?” Batman: Yeah, Batman and the Joker. So, what do you say? Joker: You had me at “shut up!”

The equivalent moment from Holy Musical comes from B@man needing to put aside his pride and encourage a disheartened Superman to save Gotham for him. This happens in the aftermath of a fight the two heroes had where Superman tried to stop B@man before he faced Sweet Tooth, B@man winning out through use of kryptonite. That fight doesn’t fit into any direct parallel with Lego Batman, but it is important context for how Superman’s feeling about B@man before Superman finally gets his long-awaited phone call from the Dark Knight. Also, the song accompanying the fight, “To Be a Man”, is one of the funniest scenes in the play. What this speech from B@man does is bring the idea of Holy Musical B@man as a commentary on fandom full circle:

B@man: I forgot what it means to be a superhero. But we’re really not that different, you and me, at our heart. I mean really all superheroes are pretty much the same… Something bad happened to us once when we were young, so we dedicated our whole lives to doing a little bit of good. That’s why we got into this crazy superhero business. Not to be the most popular, or even the most powerful. Because if that were the case, hell, you’d have the rest of us put out of a job!

This speech extends into an exchange between the heroes about how superheroes are cool, not despite anything superficially silly but because of it. Bringing it back to the “Robin Sucks!” theme that started Act 2, saying “Some people think Robin is stupid. But those people are pretentious douchebags. Because, literally, the only difference between Robin and me is our costumes.” The speech culminates in what I genuinely think is one of the best Batman lines ever written, as B@man’s final plea to Superman is “Where’s that man who’s faster than a gun?” calling back to the trauma that created Batman across all versions and what he can see in someone like Superman. So, B@man sacrificing his pride and fully trusting in another hero saves Gotham, the way Batman letting Joker know what their relationship means to him did in Lego Batman.

Each of these parodies ends by delivering a Batman willing to open himself up to a new team of heroes fighting at his side, the newly minted Bat-Family in Lego Batman and the league for justice known as the Super Friends in Holy Musical. Putting them side by side like this shows how creators don’t need the resources of a Hollywood studio to make something exactly as meaningful and how the best parodies come from love of the material no matter who’s behind them.

If you like what you’ve read here, please like/reblog or share elsewhere online, follow me on Twitter (@WC_WIT), and consider throwing some support my way at either Ko-Fi.com or Patreon.com at the extension “/witswriting”

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ladyeliot · 4 years ago

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No pressure

Request: Anonymous. Hiiii! I had a Chris Evans x reader request. The reader is famous and has to go through a stalker who breaks into her home. She calls 911 and isn't hurt, but Chris wasn't there so he comes to her and visits her and comforts her. It could be fluffy. It's ok if you don't want to do it. I'm sorry if it sucks. 😊

Pairing: Chris Evans x Fem!Reader

Warning: Stalker and at the end fluff.

Word count: 1636

Notes: Thank you very much for the request, I loved it. In the end I modified the character of the stalker a bit, but everything else is there. / English is not my native language, sorry for the mistakes.

Anyone could have said that having a nice comfortable life in a country house in the middle of the countryside and with a regular job could be very boring, but that was all you needed on days like this. The energy consumption of your life prevented you from enjoying the little things. Day after day you would arrive home after midnight after spending more than 10 hours a day locked up in a recording studio and if you were lucky at least 2 of the 10 hours had been profitable. When you weren't in the studio, you were touring in the remotest places on earth and when that didn't happen you were probably promoting the new album.

Without a doubt it was an unimaginable life, which during your childhood had been a dream for you, and after effort and persistence you had achieved it. However, it wasn't all that beautiful, and the sacrifices you made were endless.

Like any other Saturday you arrived home after 00:30 and because of the low traffic in Los Angeles your arrival was delayed by about 45 minutes. Crestwood Hills was a lovely residential neighbourhood to live in, with nice views of the Santa Monica Mountains and the coast, but quite problematic if you wanted to go from your studio in Venice Beach, yet you knew you wouldn't move from that house for anything.

The automatic garage door opened as soon as you got close to it, when it opened you could see the Christmas lights that you hung around the palm tree at the entrance last week, which gave a homely feeling to your garden, and that made you think of the comfort your bed would provide when you lay down in it.

The door closed behind the car and with great heaviness you picked up the guitar and went to the entrance door, thinking about how much you wanted to fall on the bed. To your surprise you saw a dim light coming out of the living room, accompanied by a pleasant smell of your favourite sauce. Strangely enough, you left your guitar on the floor, right next to the umbrella stand, and headed towards the light. The first thing that crossed your mind was that you had probably forgotten some date with Chris, or maybe some special date. However, there was nothing scheduled in your diary, so you assumed it would be a surprise that I had prepared.

"Mr. Evans?" you said with a half smile.

You entered the living room and right next to the window that led to the garden you came across a mahogany table decorated with purple tulips and two candles on each side, complemented by the plates and cutlery and a small note on your plate. You couldn't help but deny with your face as you smiled.

-This night is all ours. Just make yourself comfortable, enjoy and ask me for whatever you want.-

You arched an eyebrow forgetting how tired you were and how many things you would ask for if he only made himself available to you. A loud noise coming from the kitchen made you think about those juicy thoughts. You put the note back in its place, and leaned in, trying to expand your change of vision.

"Is everything all right out there?" you burst out laughing. "Aren't you going to come and give me my welcome?"

The feeling of happiness that had invaded your body vanished in an instant, unless Chris had shrunk a few inches, worn long hair and taken on a feminine look.

"What? What the hell are you doing here? How did you get into my house?!" Every pore of your body began to give off an intense heat that was present in your cheeks.

In an instant you rushed to her, taking away all the kitchen gadgets that were in her hands. The situation went from the most romantic to the darkest, and even a bit comical if you think about it coldly. The story you had with that person was long and full of chapters, but even so the current situation had gone too far.

"Get out of my house" you stretched out your right arm and pointed to the front door. "I have no idea how you got in, but the only thought that you've been wandering around, touching my things and preparing food in my kitchen is making me very nervous.

"Does that make you nervous now? We have to talk, you know that...", your ex-confident could not finish his words.

"Get out! I know that you haven't stopped following me since I came from Memphis, that you're there every night when I go out waiting for me at the back door of the studio and that more than once I've seen you on the beach when I go for a run. I told you and I'm telling you again, it's all over, there's no more, it's been a year and a half. And now get out of my house if you don't want me to call the police."

“It's all over, there's no more? What a harsh word for you" the honey-coloured eyes of the young woman who was just a few metres away from you, turned, but she hardly moved from her place. "After all this time, after all I've done for you!

"For me?! I can't believe it..." your tone calmed down, you had gone from anger to bitterness in a few seconds. "Are you listening to yourself?"

She barely showed a clear intention to leave, you knew her well, but the last few months she had become a complete stranger to you.

"It's okay, you asked for it," you took the mobile phone out of your back pocket and typed in 911. "If you don't want to leave my house, and tell me how you got in, explain it to the police.

The fight of looks continued, it seemed that she wasn't going to give her arm to the wall and although you didn't want to put on any show either, as you preferred to do it on stage, you knew that if she didn't see against the sword and the wall she wouldn't leave your house. You hated her for getting you where you were going.

"911, what is the address of your emergency?" you stared for the last time into her eyes waiting for her to make a gesture to leave.

Time stopped and the wait became eternal, both for you and for the female voice coming out of the earpiece.

“911, what is the address of your emergency�� repeated the woman.

The girl in front of you smiled uncertainly as she reached into the right pocket of her jeans and pulled out some keys, the keys to your house along with an alarm control.

"You got it," she whispered, heading for the exit door.

“911, what is the address of your emergency?”

"Nothing" you said with a thread of voice contemplating the keys on the kitchen counter and with your heart racing because of the amount of contradictions that had just happened.

Thirty-five minutes passed before Chris' car was planted in front of your house. During that time you got rid of the whole scenario that person had set up, avoiding leaving any trace of it. Chris arrived with an expression of disbelief mixed with irritation, all you needed was someone to calm you down, but in the end you had to spend fifteen minutes trying to get him to relax.

"I'm sorry" said Chris. He put his arms around you and put a little kiss in your hair. "I just... I don't want to take thirty minutes to get here if anything happens.”

"I don't think she'll show up again," you said sure of that fact.

"I don't care. Today this happened, tomorrow anything else can happen," he said kissing your hair again, and realising how serious he was being changed his tone to one of comedy. "If I could I would wrap you in bubble wrap so nothing would happen to you."

"You know that wrapping obsesses me, in less than two hours all the bubbles would be bursting," your comment made Chris laugh, so you could finally breathe easy when you saw him like that again.

"Come here."

The hug broke up and Chris led you to the sofa, sitting in a position where you were facing each other.

"Listen. I've been thinking..."

"Thinking?" you arched an eyebrow after the playful comment, trying to break its seriousness again.

"Yes, honey, sometimes I think," Chris responded to your comment with the same playful tone. "No, listen, I know you're not very friendly about serious conversations, but listen to me. I've been thinking, and I've been thinking about the idea of living together. Don't think it's because of what happened today, or what I said before, I've been thinking about it since last month when we spent Thanksgiving in Boston," you nodded slightly, wrapping yourself in memories of that familiar day. "I'm not asking you to do it immediately, I just want you to think about it, no pressure.”

"No pressure," you repeated arching an eyebrow and looking at Chris' hands that were on your lap.

"No pressure," he imitated.

"Okay," you whispered, taking one of his hands and giving him a slow kiss on the back of his hand as you let yourself be enveloped by his gaze. "I'll think about it."

It took you just two seconds to approach her lips and seal your answer with a kiss.

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claudiarya · 4 years ago

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Hello I’ve written this short fic. based on the clip we’ve got from Shadow and Bone of Jesper and Inej performing, but with a twist!

You can read it on Ao3 as well

Silks, Guns and All the Things Fun (Not)

Words count: 2898

The chattering at the Crow Club was thicker than usual and it ricocheted around the lower floor of the building, bouncing off the draped walls. Kaz Brekker made his way there from where he had been dealing cards on the upper part of the club. It had been quite a profitable night, with many pigeons all too eager to let the rush of the gambling go to their head and lose everything. His cane tapped on the stairs as he descended them, an ominous and irregular melody announcing who was coming down those steps. He stopped just before the las two and scanned the room, his shark eyes checking if everything was in order. Kaz saw at least a couple of people flinching when his eyes had met theirs. Good. It seemed that his infamy was the same unblemished, or rather very blemished, story of terror as ever. He had worked all of his angles to make it that way, and he had every intention to keep it up as long as he lived, his thirst for personal revenge too strong to be sated in any other way.

Kaz threw another glance around the room until he found who he was looking for. He approached her, men and women making themselves scarce as he passed them. Inej was in the corner, intent on untangling something thick, the crimson fabric like a river of blood in her hands. Her long hair was tied up in a coil at the nape of her neck as she usually wore it, a light vest covering her shoulders and arms, and peeking from a sleeve he saw something wrapped around her forearm. She had covered her feather tattoo since she was going to remove the vest and perform in bare arms, something that had stirred not little emotions inside the hollow of his armor.

“I trust that everything is ready,” Kaz rasped, looking down at her from where he was standing. Not surprised in the slightest, as if she had known all along who was about to speak to her, Inej kept her eyes on her task. “Good evening to you, too Kaz. How are you?” Her tone unbothered if a little bit sarcastic…

This girl. If it had been any other person speaking to him like that, they would have run away with a few broken limbs or without teeth. Or perhaps both. Kaz couldn’t understand why, but his relationship, if that could be called, with her had always felt different. Nobody treated him the way she did, he didn’t allow it, but whatever it was that propelled him to always find excuses to talk to her, be near to her when he could, he didn’t like it.

Liar. A voice in his head reprimanded him. him. You keep lying to yourself, Brekker. He blinked. Usually he would have ignored her, but that night he didn’t know what forced possessed him and he decided to indulge her.

“Yes, hello Inej darling. I’ll be better when all of this is over, and we’ve made our profit.”

When the term of endearment had left his lips, she had looked at him with a sonorous sigh. Inej raised to her feet, not really making a difference since she was so small, the red silks now draped on one shoulder, and her eyes peered straight into his. The amber, low lights of this particular floor of the club reflected into her irises, making it look like she had flames burning behind them.

Kaz thought again to himself that she had never looked more like a painted icon of those Saints she so much adored than in that moment and gripped his cane tighter to try and snap out of his reveries, to try and quiet the raging emotions inside. The ridges of the crow’s head unmistakable even under his gloved hands.

“Everything will go as planned: we’ll perform, and we’ll make sure all of these pigeons are probably plucked. Don’t worry.” She passed him, careful to avoid touching him and went to hang the silks she had been preparing.

Kaz promised not to let his gaze follow her but failed. He saw how with a graceful movement she looped one end of the prop into the hook on the wall. Once again, he forced himself not to let his thoughts wander too much and with a slightly louder voice called after her.

“If you’re so ready, where in Ghezen’s name, is Jesper?”

“He’ll be here,” she shrugged not preoccupied at all.

“He’d better be.” He checked his time piece and looking once again at her he said: “We start in five minutes. Go get yourself prepared.”

He heard Inej exhaling loudly. Again. A habit, he realized, she had acquired in these last months. Was it perhaps because she was starting to feel a little more comfortable with this life he had given her, with his gang… with him?

Inej got closer to him, not intimidated at all to look at him straight in the eye.

“I know what I’m doing, but if I’ll be ever looking for a coach, I’ll know who to turn to. Now, excuse me.”

She brushed past him, one instant she was there and then next gone.

***

Fitting how Kaz had found the darkest part of the room to stand in during Jesper’s and Inej’s little show. The sharpshooter had turned up at the last minute, literally the last, when the audience had already gathered around the little space they had arranged specifically for the two of them, and Kaz had already excogitated a hundred different way to kill him. He had of course given a piece of his mind, seething to the gangly boy, who in returned had just shrugged, winked at him and told him that “People love big entrances, I’m making us a favor,” before scurrying to his designated seat at the center of the makeshift stage.

Kaz had come up with this idea months prior, but Inej and Jesper had actually started performing only a couple of weeks ago. He had had to use all of his most convincing arguments to let Per Haskell see how incredibly fruitful this would all be. That old man and his drunken ass…

After many requests from his lieutenant part he had conceded, and Kaz had made it look so as if the leader of the Dregs had had this brilliant idea himself, a thing that had worked out for the best since he had gone strolling around the Barrel boasting how his club was offering entertainments that no other could. A good publicity indeed, and Dirtyhands had smirked pleased with himself, his plan had worked. As always.

His breath caught in his throat when he saw Inej climbing the silks, her fluid movements made it look so easy, as if she was taking a stroll instead of keeping herself up with only her body strength.

“Ladies ang gentlemen, thugs and thieves,” started Jesper walking the perimeter of the free space and catching the attention of the people there. “Tonight you’ll see something that only few would be brave to attempt. My lovely assistant will perform one of her tricks with a card stuck between her lips,” at that the girl in question removed from thin air a card and showed it to the audience, only one part of her body now supporting her, the silks wrapped around it, as the other half hanged from them. “While I will attempt to shoot at it.”

Many gasps could be heard around the room as well as excited whispers.

“Let’s begin!” Jesper said, now with a much more serious tone.

Kaz had to admit it, even if at times Jesper was a total buffoon he knew how to mesmerize an audience, and he had them in the palm of his hands.

The sharpshooter took his position, and removed from the ground a little polished, silver tray. Kaz had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes as Jesper looked at his reflection winked at himself and then kissed his beloved revolver, while exhaling with (fake) preoccupation. Could this boy be more theatrical than that? The Bastard of the Barrel sighed, convinced that there was no end to his second in command’s love for the dramatics. Inej wrapped her limbs expertly in the silks and then with a fearless dive, she let herself fall so that her body was hanging upside-down.

The split second before Jesper could shoot, Kaz’s and Inej’s eye met, and the world seemed to stop for a bit.

He knew damn well that the Zemeni boy was the best shot around, he had never seen him miss. Never. On top of that, he suspected that the little secret he was keeping from everyone, but that Kaz had of course found out about, somehow helped him with his formidable aim. Yet… why in the name of his beloved kruge did he feel nervous for her?

You need to get it together and stop thinking this sentimental stuff. He scolded himself, not for the first time that night.

After a second or perhaps an eternity he moved his gaze away from hers.

Jesper shot and… the bullet struck the card exactly in the middle. The raucous cheering of the audience was what ground him completely again. Inevitably, as if a magnet drawn to the pole, he saw Inej finish her performance with a couple of flips, before landing as effortlessly and elegantly as ever, a big grin on her face. Kaz himself couldn’t help the light movement upward of the corner of his mouth, that died immediately when he noticed how the sharpshooter, now standing, turned around to return the smile, and finally joined her, taking her hand to bow.

That nagging feeling inside him was as demanding as ever. He hated it. He wanted it to stop.

The applause of the people surrounding him turned into a distant sound, as a clear thought struck him then and there. He was never going to have that easy demeanor Jesper had with her, he was never going to be able to take her hand without drowning, he could never tell her that despite all his effort he couldn’t resist the constant pull he felt whenever she was close and that made everything even worse.

Inej’s eyes managed to find his again in his dark corner, the smile she still had lightened her features, but it dropped as soon as she saw what was a very grim expression marking his face.

He wanted to yell. Tell her to keep on smiling, because he felt very much alive whenever she did, like none other things could, but instead he just gripped his cane tighter, and forced himself to look around the room.

When Jesper and Inej approached him after the audience had dispersed a bit, he was still waging his inner war.

“Wasn’t our Wraith amazing?” Jesper asked excitedly, an arm slung around the shorter girl’s shoulders, before adding “Wasn’t I amazing?”

“You just did what you had to. No more no less. And besides, many of these people had already seen this particular performance, so I wouldn’t let all those adoring people get to your head.” He rasped before leaving them standing.

As he made his way to return to the upper level of the Club, he heard the sharpshooter sighing loudly. “You can never win with him, can you?”

“No one can,” was Inej’s curt answer.

He knew her eyes were following him; he could feel it and he never detested more the vindictive and cold creature he had become than now.

***

The Crow Club at that hour of the night, or rather early morning, was deserted. Kaz had ordered the others to go back to the Slat as he stayed behind to make sure everything was in order before close-up. He once again descended the stairs that would bring him to the lower floor, the silks and the other props gone and already been stashed away. As he scanned the room though, he noticed something on the ground, near where the silks were usually hanged. In the dim light he could see it was a piece of dark cloth, and as he got closer, he noticed that it wasn’t just any piece of cloth, but the one Inej had wrapped around her forearm to cover her tattoo. He crouched down, with no little protest from his bad leg, and took it in one gloved hand, the gesture almost reverent.

If someone were to enter the room now, they would have found Kaz Brekker, Bastard of the Barrel, Dirtyhands himself, on his knees cradling a strip of cloth in his hands. He shook his head in disbelief and made to stand up, when CRASH!

Something had fallen and in his fear of having been discovered, Kaz quickly tucked the wrap in his suit pocket as he made leverage on his cane to stand. He saw that what had startled him had been a stool, now on the ground. He passed a hand through his hair in exasperation. He really needed to get a grip.

In the days following Kaz didn’t realize that out of nowhere he would put his hand in his pocket and rub the little piece of fabric between his fingers, a thing that oddly enough always managed to calm him. He didn’t realize it, until he did. It had been a late night in which he had been working for the Dregs and his pathetic excuse of a leader, now scheming, now scribbling and adding numbers. The little thing had been placed on his shambled desk, a trusted companion of his. He had meant to return it, if not to Inej directly, to at least casually leave it where he had found it, but in the end he hadn’t. That night he had sent his Wraith out to gather information regarding a certain mercher’s rich art collection, and he hadn’t almost heard her, almost, entering his attic room from the window. Kaz hadn’t known how he had been able to stash her piece of fabric away before she could see him gently passing it between his fingers.

He only imagined the conversation they would have had if he had taken a second too long to hide it.

You know Inej, I casually found it on the ground but instead of leaving it there I’m keeping your arm wrapping as a stress-relieving token. But it’s not like it may look. I’m not obsessed with you or anything.

Could he be more pathetic than that? Since when had he gone this soft? Oh yes, he knew, ever since he had paid her indenture and she had joined the Dregs, that was when. To make things worse that night had ended with Inej casually sitting on his window seat: her head resting on the wall, her eyes closed. Indefinite and unnamed emotions had stirred once again inside of him, as a very precise, but not really polite word echoed in his head… he was so screwed.

From that moment on he had debated whether to just give it to her and telling her that he had found it but that it had just slipped his mind until then, or continuing keeping the damn thing. A constant battle in his mind that complemented the one inside his heart.

He kept it.

If Kaz was never going to have Inej, as he wished he could, he at least could have a part, no matter how small and insignificant, of her.

That day, his feet carried him on their own accord outside her door, a floor exactly below his room. They had encountered some troubles with some too cocky members of the Black Tips and the whole ordeal had left them all pretty shaken – except Kaz of course – and with two dead members of his crew. Kaz didn’t know why he was standing here, on the other side of her closed door. She might not even be here, he had thought trying to find excuses to turn back from where he had come.

But he knew. He somehow sensed that she was inside her little room.

What exactly was he thinking, what was he doing here as a gaping fish out her door? Did he want to make sure she was okay? See if she needed anything?

Oh yes, because you’ve been nothing but an example of emotional support, Brekker.

When he was about to turn and go back to the attic, cursing himself for his stupidity, the door in front of him opened. Inej stood there, and for once her hair was not tied back but loose on her shoulders, cascading in delicate waves around her frames, the result of having kept it tight in a braid.

“Is anything wrong, Kaz? Why are you standing outside my door as if you’d seen a Saint?” she had asked.

I think I wanted to see you, I’m not sure why and I’m going insane. He thought, but of course didn’t say, too cowardly and bitter to do so. Instead, Kaz quickly put his hand in his pocket, and found what he knew would be there. Gripping her piece of fabric, he managed to answer with his usual lack of emotions.

“Go find Jesper. I found us a job. What would you say to one million kruge?”

#six of crows #pre six of crows #pre soc #canon compliant #shadow and bone #grihsaverse #the grisha trilogy #the grisha series #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #jesper fahey #my fic #my story #soc fic #six of crows fanfic #kanej #kanej fanfic

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grigori77 · 4 years ago

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2020 in Movies - My Top 30 Fave Movies (Part 1)

30. BODY CAM – in the face of the ongoing pandemic, viral outbreak cinema has become worryingly prescient of late, but as COVID led to civil unrest in some quarters there were a couple of 2020 films that REALLY seemed to put their finger on the pulse of another particularly shitty zeitgeist. Admittedly this first one highlights a problem that’s been around for a while now, but it came along at just the right time to gain particularly strong resonance, filtering its message into the most reliable form of allegorical social commentary – horror. The vengeful ghost trope has become pretty familiar since the Millennium, but by marrying it with the corrupt cop thriller veteran horror screenwriter Nicholas McCarthy (The Pact) has given it a nice fresh spin, and the end result is a real winner. Mary J. Blige plays troubled LAPD cop Renee Lomito-Smith, back on the beat after an extended hiatus following a particularly harrowing incident, just as fellow officers from her own precinct begin to die violent deaths under mysterious circumstances, and the only clues are weird, haunting camera footage that only Renee and her new partner, rookie Danny Holledge (Paper Towns and Death Note’s Nat Wolff), manage to see before it inexplicable wipes itself. Something supernatural is stalking the City of Angels at night, and it’s got a serious grudge against local cops as the increasingly disturbing investigation slowly brings an act of horrific police brutality to light, until Renee no longer knows who in her department she can trust. This is one of the most insidious scare-fests I enjoyed this past year, sophomore director Malik Vitthal (Imperial Dreams) weaving an effective atmosphere of pregnant dread and wire-taut suspense while delivering some impressively hair-raising shocks (the stunning minimart sequence is the film’s undeniable highlight), while the ghostly threat is cleverly thought-out and skilfully brought to “life”. Blige delivers another top-drawer performance, giving Renee a winning combination of wounded fragility and steely resolve that makes for a particularly compelling hero, while Wolff invests Danny with skittish uncertainty and vulnerability in one of his strongest performances to date, and Dexter star David Zayas brings interesting moral complexity to the role of their put-upon superior, Sergeant Kesper. In these times of heightened social awareness, when the police’s star has become particularly tarnished as unnecessary force, racial profiling and cover-ups have become major hot-button topics, the power and relevance of this particular slice of horror cinema cannot be denied.

29. BLOOD QUANTUM – 2020 certainly was a great year for horror (even if most of the high profile stuff did get shunted into 2021), and this compellingly fresh take on the zombie outbreak genre was a strong standout with a killer hook. Canadian writer-director Jeff Barnaby (Rhymes for Young Ghouls) has always clung close to his Native American roots, and he brings strong social relevance to the intriguing early 80s Canadian setting as a really nasty zombie virus wreaks havoc in the Red Crow Indian Reservation and its neighbouring town. It soon becomes clear, however, that members of the local tribe are immune to the infection, a revelation with far-reaching consequences as the outbreak rages unchecked and society begins to crumble. Barnaby pulls off some impressive world-building and creates a compellingly grungy post-apocalyptic vibe as the story progresses, while the zombies themselves are a visceral, scuzzy bunch, and there’s plenty of cracking set-pieces and suitably full-blooded kills to keep the gore-hounds happy, while the horror has real intelligence behind it, the script posing interesting questions and delivering some uncomfortable answers. The characters, meanwhile, are a well-drawn, complex bunch, no black-and-white saviours among them, any one of them capable of some pretty inhuman horrors when the chips are down, and the cast, an interesting mix of seasoned talent and unknowns, all excel in their roles – Michael Greyeyes (Fear the Walking Dead) and Forrest Goodluck (The Revenant) are the closest things the film has to real heroes, the former a fallible everyman as Traylor, the small-town sheriff who’s just trying to do right by his family, the latter unsure of himself as his son, put-upon teenage father-to-be Joseph; Olivia Scriven, meanwhile is tough but vulnerable as his pregnant white girlfriend Charlie, Stonehorse Lone Goeman is a grizzled badass as tough-as-nails tribal elder Gisigu, and Kiowa Gordon (probably best known for playing a werewolf in the Twilight movies) really goes to the dark side as Joseph’s delinquent half-brother Lysol, while there’s another memorably subtle turn from Dead Man’s Gary Farmer as unpredictable loner Moon. This was definitely one of the year’s darkest films – largely playing the horror straight, it tightens the screws as the situation grows steadily worse, and almost makes a virtue of wallowing in its hopeless tone – but there’s a fatalistic charm to all the bleakness, even in the downbeat yet tentatively hopeful climax, while it’s hard to deny the ruthless efficiency of the violence on display. This definitely isn’t a horror movie for everyone, but those with a strong stomach and relatively hard heart will find much to enjoy here. Jeff Barnaby is definitely gonna be one to watch in the future …

28. THE MIDNIGHT SKY – Netflix’ big release for the festive season is a surprisingly understated and leisurely affair, a science fiction drama of big ideas which nonetheless doesn’t feel the need to shout about it. The latest feature in the decidedly eclectic directorial career of actor George Clooney, this adaptation of Good Morning, Midnight, the debut novel of up-and-coming author Lily Brooks-Dalton, favours characterisation and emotion over big thrills and flashy sequences, but it’s certainly not lacking in spectacle, delivering a pleasingly ergonomically-designed view of the near future of space exploration that shares some DNA with The Martian but makes things far more sleek and user-friendly in the process. Aether, a NASA mission to explore K-23, a newly-discovered, potentially habitable moon of Jupiter, is on its return journey, but is experiencing baffling total communications blackouts from Earth. This is because a catastrophic global event has rendered life on the planet’s surface all but impossible, killing most of the population and driving the few survivors underground. K-23’s discoverer, professor Augustine Lofthouse (Clooney), is now alone at a small research post in the extreme cold of the Arctic, one of the only zones left that have not yet been fully effected by the cataclysm, refusing to leave his post after having discovered he’s dying from a serious illness, but before he goes he’s determined to contact the crew of Aether so he can warn them of the conditions down on Earth. Despite the ticking clock of the plot, Clooney has reigned the pace right in, allowing the story to unspool slowly as we’re introduced to the players who calmly unpack their troubles and work over the various individual crises with calm professionalism – that said, there are a few notable moments of sudden, fretful urgency, and these are executed with a palpable sense of chaotic tension that create interesting and exciting punctuation to the film’s usually stately momentum, reminding us that things could go suddenly, catastrophically wrong for these people at any moment. Clooney delivers a gloriously understated performance that perfectly grounds the film, while there are equally strong, frequently DAMN POWERFUL turns from a uniformly excellent cast, notably Felicity Jones and David Oyelowo as pregnant astronaut Dr. “Sully” Sullivan and her partner, mission Commander Adewole, and a surprisingly subtle, nuanced performance from newcomer Caoilinn Springall as Iris, a young girl mistakenly left behind at the outpost during the hasty evacuation, with whom Lofthouse develops a deeply affecting bond. The film has been criticised for its slowness, but I think in this age of BIGGER, LOUDER, MORE this is a refreshingly low-key escape from all the noise, and there’s a beautiful trade-off in the script’s palpable intelligence, strong character work and world-building (then again, the adaptation was by Mark L. Smith, who co-wrote The Revenant), while this is a visually stunning film, Clooney and cinematographer Martin Ruhe (Control, The Keeping Room) weaving an evocative visual tapestry that rewards the soul as much as the eye. Unapologetically smart, engrossingly played and overflowing with raw, emotional power, this is science fiction cinema at its most cerebral, and another top mark for a somewhat overlooked filmmaking talent which deserves to be considered alongside career highs such as Good Night & Good Luck and The Ides of March.

27. PALM SPRINGS – the summer’s comedy highlight kind of snuck in under the radar, becoming something of an on-demand secret weapon with all the cinemas closed, and it definitely deserves its swiftly growing cult status. You certainly can’t believe it’s the feature debut of director Max Barbakow, who shows the kind of sharp-witted, steady-handed control of his craft that’s usually the province of far more experienced talents … then again, much of the credit must surely go to seasoned TV comedy writer Andy Siara (Lodge 49), for whom this has been a real labour of love he’s been tending since his film student days. Certainly all that care, nurture and attention to detail is up there on the screen, the exceptional script singing its irresistible siren song from the start and providing fertile ground for its promising new director to spread his own creative wings. The premise may be instantly familiar – playing like a latter-day Saturday Night Live take on Groundhog Day (Siara admits it was a major influence), it follows the misadventures of Sarah (How I Met Your Mother’s Cristin Miliota), the black sheep maid of honour at her sweet little sister Tala’s (Riverdale’s Camila Mendes) wedding to seemingly perfect hunk Abe (the Arrowverse’s Superman, Tyler Hoechlin), as she finds herself repeating the same high-stress day over and over again after becoming trapped in a mysterious cosmic time-loop along with slacker misanthrope Nyles (Brooklyn Nine Nine megastar Andy Samberg), who’s been stuck in this same situation for MUCH longer – but in Barbakow and Siara’s hands it feels fresh and intriguing, and goes in some surprising new directions before the well-worn central premise can outstay its welcome. It certainly doesn’t hurt that the cast are all excellent – Miliota is certainly the pounding emotional heart of the film, effortlessly lovable as she flounders against her lot, then learns to accept the unique possibilities it presents, before finally resolving to find a way out, while Samberg has rarely been THIS GOOD, truly endearing in his sardonic apathy as it becomes clear he’s been here for CENTURIES, and they make an enjoyably fiery couple with snipey chemistry to burn; meanwhile there’s top-notch support from Mendes and Hoechlin, The OC’s Peter Gallagher as Sarah and Tala’s straight-laced father, the ever-reliable Dale Dickey, a thoroughly adorable turn from Jena Freidman and, most notably, a full-blooded scene-stealing performance from the mighty J.K. Simmonds as Roy, Nyles’ nemesis, who he inadvertently trapped in the loop before Sarah and is, understandably, none too happy about it. This really is an absolute laugh-riot, today’s more post-modern sense of humour allowing the central pair (and their occasional enemy) to indulge in far more extreme consequence-free craziness than Bill Murray ever got away with back in the day, but like all the best comedies there’s also a strong emotional foundation under the humour, leading us to really care about these people and what happens to them, while the story throws moments of true heartfelt power at us, particularly in the deeply cathartic climax. Ultimately this was one of the year’s biggest surprises, a solid gold gem that I can’t recommend enough.

26. THE LAST DAYS OF AMERICAN CRIME – Body Cam’s fellow heavyweight Zeitgeist fondler is a deeply satirical chunk of speculative dystopian sci-fi clearly intended as a cinematic indictment of Trump’s broken America, but it became far more potent and prescient in these … ahem … troubled times. Adapted by screenwriter Karl Gadjusek (Oblivion, Stranger Things, The King’s Man) from the graphic novel by Rick Remender and Greg Tocchini for underrated schlock-action cinema director Olivier Megaton (Transporter 3, Colombiana, the last two Taken films), this Netflix original feature seemed like a fun way to kill a cinema-deprived Saturday night in the middle of the First Lockdown, but ultimately proved to have a lot more substance than expected. It’s powered by an intriguing premise – in a nearly lawless 2024, the US government is one week away from implementing a nationwide synaptic blocker signal called the API (American Peace Initiative) which will prevent the public from being able to commit any kind of crime – and focuses on a strikingly colourful bunch of outlaw antiheroes with an audacious agenda – prodigious Detroit bank robber Bricke (Édgar Ramiréz) is enlisted by Kevin Cash (Funny Games and Hannibal’s Michael Carmen Pitt), a wayward scion of local crime family the Dumois, and his hacker fiancée Shelby Dupree (Material Girl’s Anna Brewster) to pull off what’s destined to be the last great crime in American history, a daring raid on the first night of the signal to steal over a billion dollars from the Motor City’s “money factory” and then escape across the border into Canada. From this deceptively simple premise a sprawling action epic was born, carried along by a razor sharp, twisty script and Megaton’s typically hyperbolic, showy auteur directing style and significant skill at crafting thrillingly explosive set-pieces, while the cast consistently deliver quality performances. Ever since Domino, Ramiréz has long been one of those actors I really love to watch, a gruff, quietly intense alpha male whose subtle understatement hides deep reserves of emotional intensity, while Dupree takes a character who could have been a thinly-drawn femme fetale and invests her with strong personal drive and steely resolve, and there’s strong support from Neil Blomkampf regulars Sharlto Copley and Brandon Auret as, respectively, emasculated beat cop Sawyer and brutal Mob enforcer Lonnie French, as well as a nearly unrecognisable Patrick Bergin as local kingpin (and Kevin’s father) Rossi Dumois; the film is roundly stolen, however, by Pitt, a phenomenal actor I’ve always thought we just don’t see enough of, here portraying a spectacularly sleazy, unpredictable force of nature who clearly has his own dark agenda, but whom we ultimately can’t help rooting for even as he stabs us in the back. This is a cracking film, a dark and dangerous thriller of rare style and compulsive verve that I happily consider to be Megaton’s best film to date BY FAR – needless to say it was a major hit for Netflix when it dropped, clearly resonating with its audience given what’s STILL going on in the real world, and while it may have been roundly panned in reviews I think, like some of the platform’s other glossier Original hits (Bright springs to mind), it’s destined for a major critical reappraisal and inevitable cult status before too long …

25. BILL & TED FACE THE MUSIC – one of the year’s biggest surprise hits for me was also one I was really nervous about – the original Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure and its just-as-good sequel Bogus Journey have been personal favourites for years, pretty much part of my geeky developmental DNA during my youth, two gleefully dorky indulgences that have, against the odds, aged like fine wine for me over the years. I love Bill and Ted SO MUCH, so like many of the fans I’ve always wanted a third film, but I knew full well how easy it would have been for it to turn out to be a turd (second sequels can be tricky things, and we’ve seen SO MANY fail over the years). God bless Alex Winter and Keanu Reeves for never giving up on the possibilities, then, and for the original screenwriters, Chris Matheson and Ed Solomon, for writing something that does true justice and pays proper respect to what came before while fully realising how much times have changed in the TWENTY-NINE YEARS that have passed since Wyld Stallyns last graced our screens. Certainly times have moved on for our irrepressible pair – in spite of their convictions, driven by news from the distant future that their music would unite the world and usher in a new era of peace and prosperity, Bill and Ted have spectacularly failed to achieve what was expected of them, and they’ve grown despondent even though they’re still happily married to the Princesses and now the fathers of two wonderful girls, Billie and Thea (Atypical’s Brigette Lundy-Paine and Ready Or Not’s Samara weaving). Then an emissary from the future arrives to inform them that if they don’t write the song that unites the world TODAY, the whole of reality will cease to exist. No pressure, then … it may have been almost three decades, but our boys are BACK in a riotous comedy adventure that delivers on all the promises the franchise ever made before. Winter and particularly Reeves may have both gone onto other things since, but they step back into their roles with such ease it’s like Bill and Ted have never been away, perfectly realising not only their characters today but also various future incarnations as they resolve to go forward in time to take the song from themselves AFTER they’ve already written it (a most triumphant and fool-proof plan, surely); Lundy-Paine and Weaving, meanwhile, are both absolutely FANTASTIC throughout, creating a pair of wonderfully oddball, eccentric and thoroughly adorable characters who would be PERFECT to carry the franchise forward in the future, while it’s an absolute joy to see William Sadler return as Bogus Journey’s fantastically neurotic incarnation of Death himself, and there are quality supporting turns from Flight of the Conchords’ Kristen Schaal, Anthony Carrigan, Holland Taylor and of course Hal Landon Jr., once again returning as Ted’s grouchy cop father Captain Logan. The plot is thoroughly bonkers and of course makes no logical sense, but then they’re never meant to in these movies – the whole point is just to have fun and GO WITH IT, and it’s unbelievably easy when the comedy hit rate is THIS HIGH – turns out third time really is the charm for Matheson and Solomon, who genuinely managed a hat trick with the whole trilogy, while there was no better choice of director to usher this into existence than Dean Parisot, the man who brought us Galaxy Quest. This is the perfect climax to a trilogy we’ve been waiting YEARS to see finally completed, but it’s also shown a perfect way to forge ahead in new and interesting ways with the next generation – altogether, then, this is another most excellent adventure …

24. TRUE HISTORY OF THE KELLY GANG – Justin Kurzel has been on my directors-to-watch list for a while now, each of his offerings impressing me more than the last (his home-grown Aussie debut, Snowtown, was a low key wallow in Outback nastiness, while his follow up, Macbeth, quickly became one of my favourite Shakespeare flicks, and I seem to be one of the frustrated few who actually genuinely loved his adaptation of Assassin’s Creed, considering it to be one the very best video game movies out there), and his latest is no exception – returning to his native Australia, he’s brought his trademark punky grit and fever-dream edginess to bear in his quest to bring his country’s most famous outlaw to the big screen in a biopic truly worthy of his name. Two actors bring infamous 19th Century bushranger Ned Kelly to life here, and they’re both exceptional – the first half of the film sees newcomer Orlando Schwerdt explode onto the screen as the child Ned, all righteous indignation and fiery stubbornness as he rails against the positions his family’s poverty continually put him in, then George MacKay (Sunshine On Leith, Captain Fantastic) delivers the best performance of his career in the second half, a barely restrained beast as Ned grown, his mercurial turn bringing the man’s inherent unpredictability to the fore. The Babadook’s Essie Davis, meanwhile, frequently steals the film from both of them as Ellen, the fearsome matriarch of the Kelly clan, and Nicholas Hoult is similarly impressive as Constable Fitzpatrick, Ned’s slimily duplicitous friend/nemesis, while there are quality supporting turns from Charlie Hunnam and Russell Crowe as two of the most important men of Ned’s formative years. In Kurzel’s hands, this account of Australia’s greatest true-life crime saga becomes one of the ultimate marmite movies – its glacial pace, grubby intensity and frequent brutality will turn some viewers off, but fans of more “alternative” cinema will find much to enjoy here. There’s a blasted beauty to its imagery (this is BY FAR the bleakest the Outback’s ever looked on film), while the screenplay from relative unknown Shaun Grant (adapting Peter Carey’s bestselling novel) is STRONG, delivering rich character development and sublime dialogue, and Kurzel delivers some brilliantly offbeat and inventive action beats in the latter half that are well worth the wait. Evocative, intense and undeniable, this has just the kind of irreverent punk aesthetic that I’m sure the real life Ned Kelly would have approved of …

23. MUST MERCY – more true-life cinema, this time presenting an altogether classier account of two idealists’ struggle to overturn horrific racial injustices in Alabama. Writer-director Destin Daniel Cretton (Short Term 12, The Glass Castle) brings heart, passion and honest nobility to the story of fresh-faced young lawyer Bryan Stevenson (Michael B. Jordan) and his personal crusade to free Walter “Johnny D” McMillan (Jamie Foxx), an African-American man wrongfully sentenced to death for the murder of a white woman. His only ally is altruistic young paralegal Eva Ansley (Cretton’s regular screen muse Brie Larson), while the opposition arrayed against them is MAMMOTH – not only do they face the cruelly racist might of the Alabama legal system circa 1989, but a corrupt local police force determined to circumvent his efforts at every turn and a thoroughly disinterested prosecutor, Tommy Chapman (Rafe Spall), who’s far too concerned with his own personal political ambitions to be any help. The cast are uniformly excellent, Jordan and Foxx particularly impressing with career best performances that sear themselves deep into the memory, while there’s a truly harrowing supporting turn from Rob Morgan as Johnny D’s fellow Death Row inmate Herbert, whose own execution date is fast approaching. This is courtroom drama at its most gripping, Cretton keeping the inherent tension cranked up tight while tugging hard on our heartstrings for maximum effect, and the result is a timely, racially-charged throat-lumper of considerable power and emotional heft that guarantees there won’t be a single dry eye in the house by the time the credits roll. Further proof, then, that Destin Daniel Cretton is one of those rare talents of his generation – next up is his tour of duty in the MCU with Shang-Chi & the Legend of the Ten Rings, and while this seems like a strange leftfield turn given his previous track record, I nevertheless have the utmost confidence in him after seeing this …

22. UNDERWATER – at first glance, this probably seems like a strange choice for the year’s Top 30 – a much-maligned, commercially underperforming glorified B-movie creature-feature headlined by the former star of the Twilight franchise, there’s no way that could POSSIBLY be any good, surely? Well hold your horses, folks, because not only is this very much worth your time and a comprehensive suspension of your low expectations, but I can’t even consider this a guilty pleasure – as far as I’m concerned this is a GENUINELY GREAT FILM, without reservation. The man behind the camera is William Eubank, a director whose career I’ve been following with great interest since his feature debut Love (a decidedly odd but strangely beautiful little space movie) and its more high profile but still unapologetically INDIE follow-up The Signal, and this is the one where he finally delivers wholeheartedly on all that wonderful sci-fi potential. The plot is deceptively simple – an industrial conglomerate has established an instillation drilling right down to the very bottom of the Marianas Trench, the deepest point in our Earth’s oceans, only for an unknown disaster to leave six survivors from the operation’s permanent crew stranded miles below the surface with very few escape options left – but Eubank and writers Brian Duffield (Spontaneous, Love & Monsters, Jane Got a Gun, Insurgent) and Adam Cozad (The Legend of Tarzan) wring all the possible suspense and fraught, claustrophobic terror out of the premise to deliver a piano wire-tense horror thriller that grips from its sudden start to a wonderfully cathartic climax. The small but potent cast are all on top form, Vincent Cassel, Jessica Henwick (Netflix’ Iron Fist) and John Gallagher Jr. (Hush, 10 Cloverfield Lane) particularly impressing, and even the decidedly hit-and-miss T.J. Miller delivers a surprisingly likeable turn here, but it’s that Twilight alumnus who REALLY sticks in your memory here – Kristen Stewart’s been doing a pretty good job lately distancing herself from the role that, unfortunately, both made her name and turned her into an object of (very unfair) derision for many years, but in my opinion THIS is the performance that REALLY separates her from Bella effing-Swan. Mechanical engineer Norah Price is tough, ingenious and fiercely determined, but with the right amount of vulnerability that we really root for her, and Stewart acts her little heart out in a turn sure to win over her strongest detractors. The creature effects are impressive too, the ultimate threat proving some of the nastiest, most repulsively icky creations I’ve seen committed to film, and the inspired design work and strong visual effects easily belie the film’s B-movie leanings. Those made uneasy by deep, dark open water or tight, enclosed spaces should take heed that this can be a tough watch, but anyone who likes being scared should find plenty to enjoy here. Altogether a MUCH better film than its mediocre Rotten Tomatoes rating makes it out to be …

21. PENINSULA – back in 2016, Korean director Yeon Sang-ho and writer Park Joo-suk took the tired old zombie outbreak trope and created something surprisingly fresh with their darkly satirical action horror Train to Busan. The film was, deservedly, a massive international smash hit and a major shot in the arm for the sub-genre on the big screen, so a sequel was inevitable, but when the time came for them to follow it up they did the smart thing and went in a very different direction. Jettisoning much of the humour to create something much darker and more intense, they also ramped the action quotient right up to eleven, creating a nightmarish post-apocalyptic version of Korea which has been quarantined from the rest of the world for the last four years, where the few uninfected survivors eke out a dangerous day-to-day existence amidst the burgeoning undead hordes, and the value of human life has plummeted dramatically. Into this hell-on-earth must venture a small band of Korean refugees, sent by a Hong Kong crime boss to retrieve a multi-million dollar payday in stolen loot that got left behind in the evacuation, led by former ROK Marine Corps Captain Jung-seok (Secret Reunion’s Gang Don-won), a man with a tragic past he has to make up for. Needless to say, nothing goes according to plan … Train to Busan was an unexpected masterpiece of the genre, but I was even more bowled over by this, particularly since I got to see this on the big screen on Halloween night itself, just before the UK cinemas closed down again for the Second Lockdown. This certainly is a film that NEEDS to be seen first on the big screen – the fully-realised hellscape of undead-overrun Seoul is spectacularly immersive, the perfect cinematic playground for the film’s most impressive set-pieces, two astounding, protracted high-speed chases with searchlight-and-flair-lit all-terrain vehicles racing through the dark streets pursued by tidal waves of feral zombies. Sure, the plot is predictable and the tone gets a little overblown and maudlin at times, while some of the characters are drawn in decidedly broad strokes, but the breathless pace rarely lets up throughout, and there are moments of genuine fiendish genius on offer here, particularly in a truly disturbing centrepiece sequence in which desperate human captives are set against slavering undead in a makeshift amphitheatre for sport, as well as a particularly ingenious use for radio-controlled cars. And the cast are brilliant, with Don-won providing a suitably robust but also pleasingly fallible, wounded hero, while Hope’s Lee Re and newcomer Lee Ye-won are irrepressibly feisty and thoroughly adorable as the young girls who rescue him from certain death among the ruins. Altogether, this is horror cinema writ large, played more for thrills than scares but knuckle-whitening and brutally effective nonetheless, and in a year where outbreak horror became all too real for us anyway it was nice to be able to enjoy something a little more escapist anyway – given the strength of its competition in 2020, this top-notch sequel to a true genre gem did very well indeed to place this high. I’ll admit, I wouldn’t say no to thirds …

#body cam #body cam movie #blood quantum #the midnight sky #Palm Springs #palm springs movie #the last days of american crime #bill and ted face the music #true history of the kelly gang #just mercy #underwater #underwater movie #underwater 2020 #peninsula #train to busan presents: peninsula #2020 in movies

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laurawritesandgames · 4 years ago

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Title: Objections

Fandom: Beetlejuice (Musical)

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Beetlejuice/Adam/Barbara, Charles/Delia

Prompt: Wedding

Content Warning: Set during coronavirus pandemic

Summary: It’s Delia and Charles’s wedding day. The Maitland-Deetz household tries to keep their irreverent demon from spoiling the big day. Little do they know it’s not Beetlejuice they need to worry about….

It had taken ten minutes, but Barbara was finally satisfied with Delia’s lashes. “There. I think we’ve got it.” She moved aside to let Delia see herself in the mirror.

Barbara had put her hair and makeup skills to the test and helped Delia out on her wedding day. Why invite over a makeup artist and hair stylist during a pandemic if you didn’t have to?

Delia examined her reflection and beamed. “It’s perfect.”

That was being kind. It wasn’t exactly one of the dramatic looks on Delia’s wedding Pinterest board. More dramatic makeup would’ve suited her dress better. Ordered from Italy, her dress was a gold ballgown with dramatic tiered tulle flounces on the skirt and a deep V neckline. The gold in the dress played off the gold accents in Delia’s bright orange hair, which was in romantic waves down her back. It was daring and sweet all at once.

When the pandemic hit, the household had talked about postponing her and Charles’s wedding. But Charles’s parents were old-fashioned, and since Delia and Charles wanted to try for a baby right away, they decided to have a virtual wedding instead.

“I can’t thank you enough, Barbara.”

“I’m not letting you do your own hair and makeup on your big day!” She gestured to the laptop. “Now go show the girls.” Her bridesmaids were eagerly awaiting drinking mimosas and celebrating Delia’s look. Barbara had met them at Delia’s virtual bachelorette party, though, of course, they hadn’t known Barbara was there. The bachelorette party had also been rather subdued, considering Delia’s usual standards. She, Barbara and the bridesmaids had streamed both Magic Mike movies, ate popcorn and drank champagne. What else could you do in a pandemic? “I’ll go check on the preparations.”

Delia’s phone, face down on the makeup table, buzzed again. Someone had been texting her all morning, and Delia had been ignoring them. Her gaze flicked to the phone, jaw tightening before she looked back into the mirror.

Barbara gestured to the phone. “I can grab that for you, too.”

A hint of a frown worked its way between Delia’s brows. A moment later, her expression relaxed, and she waved the suggestion away. “I’m fine, darling. I’ve been getting so many robotexts lately. You know, you could stay and have a drink. You’re a bridesmaid too, dear!”

“Oh, it’s nothing. I like keeping busy!” And if I bump something or the camera catches me drinking a mimosa, the focus is definitely not going to be on the bride. Barbara excused herself and went downstairs.

The walls of the living/dining room were decorated with curled gold ribbons and champagne-coloured tulle banners beneath the crown molding. The ghosts and Beetlejuice had moved all the furniture—quite easily, with telekinesis—and added two rows of four chairs on either side of an elegant pale gray runner. The rug led the eye to the laptop, set up on a crystal-laden table where the officiant would’ve stood, and the pale-wood wedding arch wrapped in the same champagne tulle. Everything looked perfect.

Adam, Beetlejuice, and Lydia, the family’s impromptu wedding photographer/videographer, were gathered around a photo album. It took Barbara a second to recognize it.

“Aww, our wedding album!” She joined the group, resting her head on Adam’s shoulder. He kissed her temple, pulling her closer with both arms. The book continued floating in mid-air.

“Obsessed with sunflowers much?” grumbled an unimpressed Beetlejuice.

“I guess so,” Adam said. “My family’s farm had a little sunflower patch. That kinda became our thing.”

“Love the mason jars,” Lydia commented.

“Hey, those were the big thing in 2009,” Barbara said. She supposed their wedding had followed a lot of popular trends: an outdoor barn wedding, lots of tea lights in mason jars, and even a photo booth. But they’d managed to be ahead of the curve on a few things. “Remember our party favours, sweetie?” she asked Adam. “They were little terrariums in stemless wineglasses.”

Adam grinned and squeezed the arm around her waist. “They were tied with ribbons that said ‘Thank you very ‘mulch’ for coming to our wedding!’”

Lydia chuckled; Beetlejuice rolled his eyes.

“Don’t encourage that,” the demon said to his friend. He continued scowling at the wedding album, but Lydia seemed happy to keep looking at the photos.

The most pages they turned, the more Barbara’s mood slid closer to Beetlejuice’s. All those photos were full of friends and family she couldn’t see anymore. Most of her friends’ Facebooks or Instagrams were private, so she couldn’t even do any light internet stalking unless she wanted to log into her old accounts and confuse everyone. Was Lisa still going back to school to get her Masters, or had the pandemic put that on hold? Was Alison still having issues with her mother-in-law? Barbara had no idea. Dead women didn’t have friends. Not to mention her family….

But a wedding was no time to be sad. She pasted a smile on her face and even managed a few cute wedding stories.

“Remember when your uncle Eddy tried to drink his wedding favour?” she asked Adam, who chuckled. “He almost choked on a succulent!”

“But he kept trying to drink from it! Three times!” Adam chuckled. A moment later, his smile faltered. “Probably because he’s a massive alcoholic.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” That story wasn’t quite as cute as she remembered. “So, um, why don’t we do a last-minute check? Make sure we’ve got everything.”

“All right,” Lydia said. She took the photo album from midair and put it away, frowning slightly. “This is probably going to be the nicest moment I have today, so thanks for that.”

Barbara and Adam shared a worried look. Lydia was deeply ambivalent about her father marrying another woman only six months after her mother died. Lydia had used that fact to extract a lot of concessions about the wedding: Delia had let her wear a black dress and take photographs on her analogue camera instead of a digital camera.

“C’mon, kid!” Beetlejuice said. “Just wait ‘til I get the party started!” He blew a party favour, and sparkly beetles flew behind him.

While Lydia rolled her eyes fondly at her friend, Barbara and Adam shared another worried look. The young woman went upstairs to get changed.

Barbara turned to Beetlejuice. “I just wanted to remind you about your promise, Beetlejuice. I know it’d probably be very funny to interrupt the ceremony. Maybe Lydia would even appreciate it. But this day means a lot to Delia and Charles. They’ve found each other through a lot of pain and hardship, and they deserve a fun, special memory.”

Beetlejuice waved her words away. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. You don’t know this about me yet, but I love a good party. And people can finally see me! Well, only people here, but whatever. Why would I mess that up and have everybody pissed at me? I’m here for the fun and the food, baby.”

As much as Barbara wanted to believe him, she suspected that the only reason he didn’t have a disruption planned was because of Lydia’s innate goodness, not his own.

“I noticed you didn’t love us going through the wedding album, buddy,” Adam said. “Is everything okay?”

He shrugged. “It just…it looked nice. Your wedding.” He glanced between Barbara and Adam, loudly announcing, “None of that boring-ass shit at our wedding, okay?”

Barbara tried not to look too surprised—Beetlejuice loved shocking them. “Noted. But it’s also not going to be jump scares every minute, or a projector that reveals everyone’s darkest fears, or some kind of Saw situation.”

Beetlejuice’s eyebrows rose. “I was just thinking there’d be singing cockroaches and banners made of bats, but those are way better! You wanna plan it, baby?”

“I said ‘not.’ It’s not going to be any of those things. Did you even hear that part?”

He darted in close and kissed her lips. “Eh, we’ll find a compromise that works for all of us. We’re all about that life, right?” His neck stretched cartoonishly to kiss Adam on the lips as well. Then he poofed away in a cloud of smoke.

After a few moments, Adam said, “Did he just ask us to marry him?”

“I think it was a joke proposal. You know him. If he really wanted to propose, there’d be a lot more pizzazz. And possibly dead bodies.”

“Right, of course.”

“Would you have said yes if he’d been serious?” Barbara asked, curious.

“Things between the three of us have been going pretty well, but I don’t think I’m ready to jump into another marriage quite yet. And you?”

It was exactly what she’d expected from Adam. They’d changed since their deaths—six months later, their afterlives involved parenthood, isolation from friends and family, a lot more free time, and a polyamorous relationship. But it was nice when she could guess what he was thinking. Not everything had changed. “The same. Maybe in a few years or so.”

Before the ceremony, Charles and Lydia stayed in the living room, helping older relatives log on to Zoom and greeting people as they logged in. Charles was wearing a pale grey tuxedo with a metallic grey tie and pocket square. Lydia looked like an elegant classic Hollywood starlet with a goth twist: her black lace gown had a subtle skull pattern to it, barely visible unless the light hit it just right. Her onyx choker and bracelets looked like thorny vines going up her pale arms and encircling her neck. On her head was a raven fascinator with golden bead eyes, her one concession to the wedding colours.

The laptop screen filled up with squares of happy, smiling faces. Everyone had dressed up for the occasion, wearing suits and dresses.

“Betcha most of them are wearing sweat pants,” Beetlejuice said.

“Well, hopefully we’ll never find out,” Barbara replied. The three of them were sitting on the white chairs on either side of the aisle. Most people watching this meeting online probably assumed these chairs were only there for symmetry. As far as they knew, Lydia was the only other person physically at this wedding.

Despite her earlier claim, Lydia was smiling and chatting with Charles’s parents and, to Barbara’s surprise, Emily’s mother. Coming to your son-in-law’s wedding six months after your daughter’s death must have been hard, but if there were any issues, Barbara didn’t see them, and she wasn’t about to eavesdrop on a family moment.

Emily was sick for years. I suppose her family had a lot of time to mourn her. She thought about her parents and her sister at her own funeral. What had that been like?

Lydia took video of Delia coming down the stairs to the bridal chorus, played on speakers set up throughout the room, then put the video camera on a tripod so she could participate in the ceremony.

“I want to thank everyone for joining us today,” the officiant said. “In lieu of wedding gifts, the bride and groom have asked that you donate to the Rural Connecticut Preservation Society. I’m pleased to share that we’ve raised $10,000, which will be donated after the wedding.”

If Charles had had any reservations about donating to a charity dedicated to stopping housing development in rural Connecticut, which directly impacted his career, he hadn’t brought it up during the wedding’s planning stages. Lydia had suggested the charity, after all.

Everyone applauded.

“We will now bless the rings,” the officiant said.

Lydia took out the rings, held them both tightly in her hands, and whispered her blessing into her clenched fists. She smiled mischievously at Charles.

“I suppose if they burst into flame, we’ll know Mom disapproves.”

There were a few awkward chuckles from the assembled, none louder than Delia’s. “That’s my darling, unique stepdaughter for you! Oh, Lydia, you’re so funny!”

In a mocking, little-girl voice, Lydia replied, “I appreciate the compliment, my dearest stepmother.”

Barbara and Adam made sure that they were holding Beetlejuice’s hands so he couldn’t raise them.

The demon scoffed. “You know, I don’t need my hands to do ghost magic? I could just set the rings on fire with my mind.”

“Do not—”

“I wasn’t gonna! Jeez.”

With a theatrical flourish, Lydia showed off the rings to the laptop camera. Barbara half-expected them to be Netherworld green, but they were normal. “My blessing has been spoken. Please speak your blessings now.” Ideally, everyone would’ve been able to touch the rings and speak their blessings in private.

After a pause, Delia’s father spoke first, and others followed. The wedding program had provided a few sample blessings, but people were free to write their own. Delia’s mother began crying halfway through hers.

“Save something for the wedding speech, Amanda,” her father joked. He reminded Barbara of her own dad.

Barbara and Adam gave their own blessings. “Delia and Charles, we wish you health, happiness and love as you start your new life together,” they said, touching the rings, making sure not to brush Lydia’s hands.

Beetlejuice had declined to take part in “New Age bullshittery,” so he remained hovering over his seat.

The rest of the wedding was more traditional, probably to appease Charles’s parents. Barbara’s mind wandered. She and Adam had come so far, hadn’t they? She held Adam’s hand lightly, running her thumb up and down his palm—rather, she did until Beetlejuice forced his way between the two of them and sat on both of their laps.

“Poor baby, no one was paying attention to you,” she cooed into his ear.

“It’s the worst,” he agreed. She ran her fingers through his spikey green hair. Adam gave him some attention by resting his head on Beetlejuice’s shoulder. That seemed to do the trick—he sighed and relaxed.

Readings were read, vows were said, and rings were exchanged. Charles’s vows were simple and straightforward—too curt for Barbara’s tastes—but Delia’s were long enough for them both. Barbara fought the urge to check the time. She felt like Delia had been going for 10 minutes.

Delia actually appeared to be wrapping up when “I object!” sounded over the laptop’s speakers.

A square popped up on Zoom, revealing that the speaker was a tanned older man with more salt than pepper in his hair and bright white teeth. He had a faint accent that Barbara couldn’t place. She’d never seen him on any of Delia’s photos or social media.

Delia made a few choking noises in the back of her throat, the colour draining from her face.

Charles glared at the screen. “You,” he spat out.

Clutching Charles like a lifeline, Delia drew herself up as tall as she could. “Jeremy, log off immediately! I don’t know how you got my number or how you got this link, but get out, you narcissistic psychopath! You don’t get to be a part of my life, not after what you did!”

“Delia, my love, I know you still feel something for me—“

‘My love’? This can’t be the ex-husband, can it? Years ago, Delia’s ex had sailed away to Rome with the secretary he’d been cheating on her with.

“Hey,” Beetlejuice whispered, “I never possessed someone over the internet before. Maybe if we all work together, we can do it?”

Jeremy had opened his mouth to speak again. If ghostly powers could stop this disaster, they had to try. Barbara grabbed Beetlejuice’s and Adam’s hands and held them out to the laptop screen.

“—and I—” Jeremy continued. His gaze abruptly unfocused. Barbara tried to force words into his mouth.

“I’m so sorry!” he said, just as she’d scripted. “I’m going to log off and…and…and throw myself into a dumpster like the piece of trash I am.”

She hadn’t told him to say that. Barbara glanced at Beetlejuice, who grinned back at her.

“And then,” Jeremy continued, “I’m gonna take my toenail clippings, and my belly button lint, put them in a blender, take a shit in that blender, start the blender, and pour myself a shit-shake. It’s my regular Saturday morning routine, baby!”

Lydia rushed forward and tapped a few keys. His square vanished from the screen.

“I blocked him,” she said.

“Thank you, stepdaughter.” Delia sniffled, and Charles handed her a Kleenex from his suit pocket.

As Delia struggled to compose herself, Barbara whispered, “A poop-shake? Really, Beetlejuice?”

“It was Adam!” He couldn’t even keep a straight face, and chortled. “Okay, you caught me. Hey, I had to make sure he’d never be able to look these people in the eye again.”

Delia glared at the laptop screen. “Lydia, darling, explain to me how you set this event up again.”

“I set it as a private Zoom event. Everyone involved in the ceremony had to have a link and a password.”

“So,” Delia said, “who gave my ex-husband—who, I’d just like to remind everyone, is a cheating bastard—the link and the password?”

Slowly, one of Delia’s aunts raised her hand, her face bright pink behind her makeup.

“Millie!” Delia’s mom exclaimed.

“Mom!” shrieked one of Delia’s cousins.

Most people on the Zoom call started shouting at once. It took a few minutes to hear Aunt Millie’s explanation.

“I had no idea he was going to object,” she squeaked. “But he was such a big part of our lives for such a long time, and I thought he deserved to at least see the ceremony….”

“Aunt Millie,” Delia said, “you are no longer welcome!”

“Of—of course. I’m so sorry, Delia.” Aunt Millie took out her glasses and peered at the screen. “Er, which button do I…?”

Lydia took care of it, and banned her.

“And everyone thought I’d use my ghost powers for evil,” Beetlejuice boasted. “Look at me, doing good deeds! Being a goddamn hero!”

Barbara would’ve responded, but poor Delia sagged against Charles, tears running down her face. She tried to speak, but only managed a quiet sob.

“We’re going to take a break,” Lydia said quickly, turning back to the laptop. “See you in 10 minutes, everyone.” She muted them and closed the laptop.

Beetlejuice waved his hand to grab Delia’s attention, grinning broadly. “Thought I’d mention that if you know where he lives I could teleport to his location and, well, cause a little havoc.”

“Do we need to go over the house rules?” Barbara asked. ‘No Murdering’ was the first one.

“No murdering, this time! Just a little non-fatal revenge.”

Delia hesitated for a moment, then shook her head. “No, thank you.”

“Non-fatal?” Lydia asked Beetlejuice. “Are you sure? Our wedding did set a precedent for murder….”

Beetlejuice chuckled, and the two fistbumped.

After a moment, the demon frowned. “Wait, should I fistbump you for murdering me?”

“You already completed the ‘bump—you can’t take it back now,” Lydia said.

“Shit, you’re right.”

Delia stared at the living room, lips quivering. “Maybe…maybe this is a sign. The universe must not want me to get married again!”

Beetlejuice floated over. “Delia! Signs don’t exist. Trust me, I’d know! There is no heaven, no hell, no meaning to anything! The universe is cold, distant, and uncaring. It’s basically my mom,” he joked. “But the point is—it doesn’t care what you want, and nothing you say or do can affect it.

“Besides, girl!” Beetlejuice leaned in. “Chuck is rich as fuck. Lock him down!”

Charles glared at him before turning back to Delia. “I still want to get married to you, Delia.”

“Are you sure?” She blew into her Kleenex before continuing. “There are women who…who don’t have ex-husbands that ruin their weddings and—and make a scene in front of all their friends and family….”

“Delia,” Barbara said quietly, “you’re not the first person to date an asshole. I mean, look at me and Adam.”

Beetlejuice appreciated the burn, even if it was at his own expense—he cackled over Delia’s tepid chuckle.

“Don’t blame yourself for what just happened,” Barbara continued.

Delia whimpered into her Kleenex. Charles stroked her hair lightly.

“Delia,” he said, “I stood in front of our friends and family and told them how you were the brightest light in my darkest time. I meant every word of it. Nothing will change that. I love you.” He kissed her so deeply that Barbara looked away to give them some privacy.

When they were done, Lydia cleared her throat. “I’ll go get the digital camera so we can adjust the photos faster. That way you won’t have to worry about your makeup looking perfect.” She began to set her analog camera down.

Delia shook her head. “No—you said this was your artistic vision, and I won’t see it compromised.”

Lydia looked surprised. “Oh.” Her smile was small but sincere. “Thanks, Delia.”

Delia took this as an invitation to hug her stepdaughter. Lydia rolled her eyes, but patted her shoulder and didn’t pull away.

“Besides,” Delia added, “this camera was your mother’s gift to you, and I don’t want her coming back from the Netherworld to tell me off.”

Beetlejuice facepalmed. “That is not how the Netherworld works! That’s not how any of it works.”

“Well, it couldn’t hurt to make sure, could it?” Delia stepped back. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll just fix my face.”

“I can help,” Barbara said, and Delia nodded.

Once they were upstairs, Delia collapsed in her makeup chair, sighing heavily.

“I actually thought it was going to go well,” she commented. “That I’d have one beautiful day even in the midst of the world’s ugliness. I was so stupid. Nothing ever goes right for me.”

Barbara reached out to pat Delia’s shoulder before stopping herself. When Delia looked confused, she explained, “Lydia said touching me or Adam is like touching an ice cube tray straight from the freezer.”

“I don’t mind.”

Hesitantly, Barbara touched Delia’s shoulder. It was the first time she’d touched a living person other than Lydia in months, and hugs from a 16-year-old girl she didn’t know that well were rare. The older woman shivered but didn’t pull away.

“Lydia’s not wrong,” Delia admitted. She put her hand over Barbara’s, squeezing slightly. “But a hand offered in friendship should never be refused. You know, it’s been almost four months since I last touched someone who wasn’t Charles.”

“Hopefully this coronavirus pandemic will end soon.”

“I’ve been saying healing prayers twice a day.”

Barbara wasn’t sure they’d be effective, but healing prayers were more than most of America’s leaders were doing. At least Delia was listening to the science and wearing a mask when she went outside. She’d grown so much in the short time Barbara had known her.

Barbara missed her friends from when she was alive. That was natural. But she couldn’t let her loss keep her from recognizing that she’d made a friend after death, too.

“Thanks, Delia,” Barbara said. “Not just for the healing prayers, but for everything. Having two ghostly housemates and a demon would be a lot for some people, but you’ve taken it in stride.”

Delia chuckled. “I once lived in a commune of 200 people. Living off the land, growing our own food…and digging our own toilets.” She wrinkled her nose, then chuckled. “You three are a walk in the park compared to that!”

“If there’s anything you need from me or Adam, please let us know. We don’t want to trouble you or Charles.”

Delia opened and closed her mouth. After a moment, she said, “Well….I suppose I do have a rather personal question….”

“Shoot.”

“Beetlejuice—is he actually good in the bedroom?”

Barbara giggled. “He is. He’s had millennia to think about what he’d do if he ever had sexual partners again. He’s very…inventive.”

“I’ll admit, I’m surprised. He doesn’t seem the type to be concerned with another’s pleasure.”

“Oh, there’s definitely times he forgets. But then we get to teach him. Ahem. Now,” she nodded to the mirror, “let’s get your makeup touched up.”

Barbara wouldn’t ever be hungry or thirsty again, but the stuffed butternut squash was delicious. Delia and Charles had deferred to Barbara and Adam’s local expertise when they planned the menu at their wedding dinner. Adam knew most of the farms the vegetables had come from.

The Deetzes had said goodbye to all their guests, and the family was eating their wedding dinner in the dining room.

Delia had been going to give out the crystals on either side of the laptop as wedding favours—the stones were mostly rose quartz, moonstone and a pale white stone called selenite. But after Jeremy’s arrival, she said she needed to cleanse the crystals. “I’m going to give them a few lunar cycles, just to be safe.”

Barbara nodded, pretending she understood what that meant. “Adam, Beetlejuice and I are dead. We’ve got nothing but time!”

“I just want to thank everyone again for your hard work,” Delia said, smiling at them. “Lydia, for your photographic eye and leading the blessing. Barbara, for the hair, makeup, decorating and emotional support. Adam, for sending out all the emails and doing the tech support. All the ghosts, for intervening when a certain someone decided to crash the party.”

“It was mostly me,” Beetlejuice said. Barbara rolled her eyes at Adam, who chuckled.

“He is the ghost with the most,” Adam said, making Beetlejuice grin.

“My mistake—thank you, Beetlejuice. Thank you all for being part of one of the most important days of our lives. Thank you for being our family.”

Barbara sniffled a bit as she and Adam applauded the speech.

“I got the happy couple some extra gifts,” Beetlejuice said. “For the wedding night.”

“I’m going into another room,” Lydia announced abruptly, setting her plate down. “Another house. Another life.”

As she left, Beetlejuice grinned. “We’re rated PG-13, guys! It’s just rose petals on the bed and some boozy chocolates. Figured you two have your own toys—”

Lydia started singing loudly as she covered her ears, taking the stairs three at a time to get away.

Barbara tried to figure out what he had in mind. “These rose petals won’t become spiders, will they?”

“They’re totally normally and boring, if you must know. I ordered them off Amazon.”

“How?” Adam asked. “You have no money.”

“I typed in Chuck’s credit card, duh.”

“What?” Charles snapped.

Barbara and Adam sighed. Beetlejuice’s morality was a never-ending project that was not without its consequences.

Not for the first time, Barbara reflected that it was a good thing the Maitlands loved working on projects together.

After the wedding dinner, as Barbara, Adam and Beetlejuice were cleaning up, Lydia came downstairs. She was carrying another photo album and wearing a glum expression. She’d changed out of her party dress, and was wearing a comfy hoodie and sweat pants—all black, of course.

“Got a sec?” she asked quietly.

“Of course, sweetheart,” Barbara said.

Lydia showed them a photo—a younger Emily Deetz on a younger Charles’s lap, grinning at the camera in a fancy restaurant.

“My mom and dad’s wedding wasn’t like today’s. There wasn’t any structure. It was just a big party at one of the best restaurants in New York, followed by wandering the city with all their friends and family. They stopped in at dingy bars to listen to live music, they caught a comedy show, they walked through Times Square at two in the morning. They almost got mugged! Mom was hard core like that. Daddy attracts dramatic weddings, doesn’t he?” she joked.

Her smile dropped a second later. “And Daddy looks just as happy here as he did today. I was photographing him and Delia the whole time. I’d know.”

“So,” Beetlejuice said, “the big takeaway here is that Chuck is in love with the women he gets married to?”

Lydia chuckled sadly. “Something like that. I mean, one of them was a woman he met in college, while the other was his employee…. But who cares about things like abuses of power when it’s true love? Daddy and Delia keep trying to make me comfortable with their love story, but how can I be? If it were any other situation, I’d be blasting Daddy online as he stars in the latest MeToo scandal, right?”

Barbara nodded. “You’re right. It’s pretty rare for a story like Delia and Charles’s to end this way. You sound like you’re carrying a lot, Lydia. Do you want to sit and—”

“No, thanks. I just wanted to whine for a bit. Delia’s family seem nice, at least. Except for Aunt Millie, obviously.” She closed the photo album in a short, frustrated gesture. “Well, goodnight, guys.”

“Do you mind if we check in with you tomorrow?” Barbara said. “See how you’re feeling?” Sixteen was such a tough age—particularly when your father was remarrying.

“If you want.” She shrugged, as if she really didn’t care, but her small smile made Barbara hopeful that she’d made the right decision. The only thing more difficult than being a teenager was parenting a teenager she’d just met a few months ago.

Beetlejuice was frowning as Lydia left. “Guys, we gotta help Lyds!” He was nothing if not loyal. “We should break Chuck and Delia up, right?” He leaned in to Adam. “I got the perfect way to do it. You know how Delia thinks Emily can come back from the Netherworld?” Beetlejuice became Emily Deetz for a moment, still with a few mossy patches and green hair. “Well, what if she can? And then we tell Delia to GTFO!”

That he was asking them instead of just doing it was a pretty good sign.

“Well, Bug,” Adam said, “think about it—if Lydia didn’t want this wedding to happen, she could’ve objected herself. Or asked her father not to get married to Delia.”

Beetlejuice became his usual self again, looking disappointed. “Oh. Right. Didn’t think of that.”

“She’s an intelligent, sensitive young woman with complicated feelings about a complicated issue,” Barbara said. “I think the best way to help her is to listen to her without judgement.”

“Why is the right way always the most boring way?” Beetlejuice said, sighing.

Barbara knew how to get him happy again. “Now,” she said, running her hand along his shoulder, “why don’t we finish up and go upstairs? After all this work for everyone else, we deserve some…ah, quality time together.”

Beetlejuice fistpumped and chortled. “Yes! Unfortunately, because of this fic’s rating, we gotta cut it off here. I just wanna let everyone know, it’s gonna be freakin’ awesome—'cuz I’m awesome, baby.”

Barbara had no idea what he was talking about, as usual. Adam kissed her cheek, and they went back to the dishes.

#beetlelandsweek2020 #Beetlejuice #beetlejuice musical #adam maitland #barbara maitland #beetlejuice x adam x barbara

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vintageneptune92 · 4 years ago

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Rain Song- Chapter 2

Here is chapter 2! It’s another long one. It feels a little choppy to me, buuuut, I’m getting there. I don’t normally like to include so much from the original works, I like to create my own original content, but I think for the sake of setting up the rest of the story it’s kind of necessary. Also I had to include my favorite Hufflepuff in this story.

Thank you so much for all of your likes and the few comments I’ve gotten. It gives me motivation to keep going! If you would like to be tagged, please let me know!

Series Masterlist

Harry looked down at the girl he grasped in his hands. This must be her, she must be Hope. She matched Mr. Weasley's description precisely. Pale skin, rather short with curly blonde hair the color of dark thick honey. Well Mr. Weasley didn’t describe her hair quite like that, but all Harry could think of was thick, sweet honey when he looked at her hair. Her shiny spirals hung around her like a lion's mane and was wild in the best way possible. Harry could appreciate someone with wild hair. She had full lips that were parted in surprise. She looked up at him from under her lashes, her gray eyes wide. Mr. & Mrs. Weasley had pulled Harry, Ron & Hermione aside to tell them about Hope. She was starting at Hogwarts this year, but starting in her 3rd year. They mentioned she had been working an independent study as she was unable to attend in her first and second years. Professor Dumbledore had made an exception to allow her to start in the middle of her education. Arthur had mentioned to Harry that like him, Hope had lost both of her parents in the first Wizarding War and they had quite a bit in common. When Harry pushed for more information, Arthur had told him to get to know Hope. He urged him not to push her to open up though; she would need time. It was up to her to share her story with him. She had been in the back of Harry’s mind while Sirius Black claimed his immediate attention.

"I'm sorry!" she exclaimed. A light shade of pink colored her cheeks and he could tell by her expression that something had her spooked. Harry internally groaned, The Boy Who Lived, flashed in his mind. He wanted, just for once, to meet someone who didn’t already who he was. She likely knew all about him and Voldemort while he had just heard of her this morning. "I should really watch where I'm going." She let out a nervous laugh.

"It's alright." Harry smiled. "There's a lot of us barreling into the castle right now." She was studying his face, it was like she was looking into his soul. He had never felt someone's gaze penetrate through him so sharply.

"Are you alright?" Her crystal grey eyes were flooded with concern. Was he alright? He had just passed out on a train after almost being attacked by a Dementor, but he wasn’t going to tell her that though he was positive she’d hear Malfoy making fun of him. Besides the intense embarrassment, he couldn't quite get the screams he heard out of his head. Before he could answer, Professor McGonagall was yelling for him and Hermione.

"Mr. Weasley-" McGonagall gave Ron a pointed look. "Mr. Potter and Ms. Granger will join you in The Great Hall. May I suggest you take Ms. Lupin with you to get settled down for the feast." Harry looked at Hope. Lupin... Professor RJ Lupin. She was related to him the man that had saved him on the train, their new Defense Professor, upon further thought he could see the resemblance between the two. He must be the Uncle that she grew up with. Harry had so many questions for her, but he didn’t know if he even had the right to ask them. Harry realized he was still holding on to her and let her go. She gave him a shy smile and waved at Ron slightly.

"Oi! Hope, it's been a long time. C'mon, we'll go get a seat. The food at the feast is wicked. Fred and George are excited to see you again. Ginny barely remembers you but she’s excited too." Ron gave Harry and Hermione an unsure look as he and Hope headed down to The Great Hall. Ron was curious as to what McGonagall wanted with his two best friends, but he decided to be happy he, for once, wasn't involved. Harry tried to watch the two of them as they walked away but Hermione was pulling him along the corridor to Professor McGonagall's office. ******************************************************************************** Dementors...Dementors on the train, Dementors on Hogwarts Grounds. Was that why Hope had been so sick the past week? The constant dread, desperation and despair she had been feeling would make sense. Was she overly sensitive to them? But then she realized those feelings started before she came to Hogwarts, it had just gotten more intense. Dementors...Dementors after her father. She felt panic rising within. She tried centering herself the way her Uncle had taught her. Dementors on the Hogwarts Express. It had been lucky that her Uncle Remus had ridden the train in. He had pushed them away. She could hear students at the Slytherin table making fun of Harry for passing out. She pursed her lips. Clearly the fools had no idea what being near a Dementor felt like. She knew why Harry had reacted so strongly, he knew emotion pain more than most people their age. Hope knew that many of their peers had lived charmed lives. Dementors fed on fear, Harry had plenty of reasons to be afraid. Her heart sunk again when she thought of her father, surrounded by them for 12 years. She shouldn't feel sorry for him. She should hate him. He killed so many Muggles and her father's best friend. He had abandoned her mother and her cause to side with the darkest wizard they had ever known. Yet it was the stories of his youth that she clung to. He had been a good person. He turned his back on all that Voldemort had believed in. The only person that could give her the answers her heart so desperately craved was her father. He wasn’t exactly accessible. She was jerked out of her own mind as Ron snapped his fingers in front of her face. George and Fred were sitting on each side of her and the 3 freckles boys were looking at her expectantly.

“Wait- what?” Her face flooded with embarrassment.

“We must be so handsome she can’t think straight Fred.”

“I reckon George.” Hope rolled her eyes.

“You two are pathetic.” Ginny scoffed and it made Hope giggle. Fred and George both grinned at Ginny and then Fred shot Hope a wink and she burst out laughing. They had just finished sorting the 1st years. It appeared that Ron was going to re-ask Hope his question as Harry and who Hope assumed was Hermione came rushing in quickly. It didn’t go unnoticed that the students around the hall were whispering about Harry. She could see the discomfort scrawled all over his face. Hermione gave Hope a bright smile.

“Harry, Hermione- this is Hope Lupin.”

“Lupin? Are you related to our new Professor?” Hermione questioned.

“He’s my uncle. He’s a really wonderful teacher. I think you’re going to really like him. I say that from a completely unbiased place. Actually Hermione, we’re meant to be roommates.” Hermione’s face lit up at the idea of having a real friend in the room. She often felt left out with Lavender and Pavarti. Hermione always wanted a really close female friend.

“Well seeing as how our last Professor was a useless lying git and the other was housing Voldemort in the back of his head, I reckon your Uncle won’t have to work hard to win us over.” Hope looked slowly over at Harry and he thought maybe he had offended her until he was a twinkle in her eye.

“What exactly goes on in this school?” Hope’s laugh rang out like a bell and Harry grinned at her.

“We may have some stories.” Hope felt relaxed for the first time in weeks. She glanced up at Remus and he was looking at her fondly. As she shifted her eyes, she saw Severus Snape’s intently watching her. Harry could see the smile melting off of Hope’s face. “What’s wrong.”

“Snape. He’s-“

“A creepy bloke?” Ron offered.

“Why is he staring at me like that?”

“Probably because you’re sitting with me and he hates me.” Harry offered. Hope was about to tell them how uneasy he made her feel when she met with him last week but she was interrupted by Dumbledore.

“Welcome!” said Dumbledore, the candlelight shimmering on his beard. For the short time Hope had known Dumbledore, she realized she could listen to him speak forever. He had such a calming way about him. Harry was watching Hope watch Dumbledore. He could see the admiration in her eyes. The grey simmered into almost a silver color. He wondered if that’s how they always looked when she was content.

“Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast. . . .” Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued, “As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business.” Hope could sense Dumbledore’s displeasure with the presence of the Dementors. She focused her attention on his words.“ They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds,” Dumbledore continued, “and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises — or even Invisibility Cloaks,” he added blandly, and Harry and Ron glanced at each other. “It is not in the nature of a dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the dementors,” he said. Hope noticed the look that had pass between Ron and Harry as Harry’s face flushed slightly.

“On a happier note,” he continued, “I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year. “First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.” While her Uncle was met with mediocre applause, Hope knew he would soon win them over, he really was a wonderful teacher. She heard Rob whisper about Snape and she flicked her eyes back into his direction. A look of pure loathing had encompassed his face. Hope felt a defensiveness brewing inside of her. Her uneasiness regarding Professor Snape increased ten fold.

She felt Fred bump her shoulder to get her attention. “Don’t worry about Snape. He’s a git.” She looked over at him and he grinned. She felt a crack in the tension she was holding on to and she smiled back. The Gryffindor table erupted into applause as Dumbledore announced their new Magical Creatures Professor.

Hope hadn’t gotten the chance to meet Hagrid as she spent her last week in the hospital wing. Her eyes traveled to his spot at the table. He was at least twice the size of any normal man. He had a mass of wild black hair and beard that made it hard to see his face, but Hope could see his kind eyes and his joyous smile. She was disappointed she didn’t get to meet him yet.

“You’ll love Hagrid.” Hermione smile at Hope.

“I can’t wait to meet him.” Suddenly the golden plates in front of them filled with food. If Hope thought the food while she was here was amazing, she hadn’t seen anything yet. She took her fill of roast chicken and beef, potatoes and enough gravy she could swim in it. She hadn’t realized how ravenous she was. A week of being almost utterly unconscious had that effect. Hope happily stayed silent listening to those around her chatter about their holidays.

As Hope was tucking into her chocolate cake, as a tall and thin red headed boy with an assortment of freckles and horned rimmed glasses approached. Clearly another member of the Weasley clan. His haughtiness radiated from him. “Hello Hope. I’m not if I’d you remember me. I’m Percy Weasley. I am your Gryffindor Head Boy.”

“Merlin Perce! We had NO IDEA you were Head Boy!” George was quick to exclaim sardonically.

“I cannot believe you didn’t mention it at all this summer” Fred interjected. Hope didn’t think Percy’s pinched expression could get any tighter but she was wrong. Harry and Ron were trying not to laugh.

“I mean the red hair did give you away. It’s very nice to see you again Percy.” Hope tried time make him feel better. That seemed to satisfy his irritation, if only slightly.

“I just want you to know that should you need help making sure you abide by the rules of Hogwarts, I’m available. I’m not one to make exceptions for House members. Especially those who don’t think the rules apply to them.” She watched as Percy’s glare traveled between the twins, Harry and Ron.

“I will...keep that in mind. I did spend the last two weeks here with Professor McGonagall so she could get me up to speed. Should I find myself unsure, I’ll make sure I find you.”

“Excellent.” He turned on his heel and headed back to where he came from. Fred and George were beside themselves with laughter.

“He’s such an uptight git. Did you see how he was looking at us!” Ron was incredulous.

“I dunno Ron. I’ve only been with you lot for a couple of hours and I feel like his assessment might have been earned.” Harry could listen to Hope’s loud and barky laugh all night. It consumed her completely.

“She’s not wrong.” Harry shrugged.

“Yeah alright.” Ron agreed with a laugh.

“I’m really looking forward to hearing more stories.” Hopes eyes gleamed. Harry was anxious to get to know more about Hope. He wanted to ask her how exactly they were connected and why she hadn’t attended Hogwarts for their first two years. He didn’t want to ask in front of everyone else. He watched as she stood. “I’m going to go see my Uncle, he’s just left the teacher’s table. I’ll see you guys back in the common room. They all waved as she headed down the length of the table and out of the hall.

“She seems really great.” Hermione chirped. “I’m excited to get to know her.”

“She may give you a run for your money Hermione . Dad says she’s ruddy brilliant, especially in charms” Ron raised his eyebrows in challenge at Hermione.

“Well good! Maybe I’ll finally have someone that can keep up with me academically!” Hermione jumped from the table and stalked out of the hall. Harry groaned in response. They hadn’t been back at Hogwarts for a full day yet and Ron and Hermione were already at it.

“C’mon Ron, let’s go.” Harry stood and the two friends headed out of the Great Hall to the Gryffindor common room, Harry’s thoughts firmly on the mystery that was Hope Lupin.

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

Hope hurried down the corridors to get to her Uncle’s office. She wanted to hear more about the dementors and see him before class tomorrow.

“Excuse me, Ms. Lupin, you’re headed in the wrong direction. Your house common room is the other way.” Hope stopped in her tracks at the cold sound of Severus Snape’s voice.

“I’m stopping down to see my Uncle before curfew. I was unable to speak with him before the feast.” Snape’s penetrating gaze caused a shiver down her spine.

“Very well. Just know that just because your Uncle is on the staff at Hogwarts it does not mean you will get preferential treatment.”

“Sir, I would never ask for such a thing. In all honesty I just want to be treated like everyone else.” Snape considered her.

“And yet, you immediately made friends with Harry Potter.” Hope’s face contorted.

“I know the Weasley family. They happen to be friends with Harry. And I’m sure that you know that Lily Potter and MY mother were quite close.” Snape studied her for a moment. She may look like a carbon copy of her mother, but the defiance burning in her eyes was that of Sirius Black.

“You better move along or you will break your curfew.” Hope didn’t give it a second thought as she hurried down the hall. She didn’t like how Snape studied her. She felt like she was underneath a microscope. She approached her Uncle’s door and knocked loudly. She heard him yell to come in and she swung the door open. He was in the midst of unpacking his belongings.

“Uncle Remus!” She exclaimed and ran into his embrace. He held her tightly for a moment and then pulled back to study her.

“You had me so worried. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes, yes I’m fine. Whatever Professor Snape brought me seemed to help. I actually slept last night without any dreams. Dumbledore mentioned that it wasn’t something I could take all of the time. Which is a shame.” Remus smiled.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better. I’m not sure what the potion was exactly but I’m happy it helped. I wanted so badly to get here and be with you.”

“Uncle Remus I was asleep most of the time. You wouldn’t have been able to do anything. I’m fine now. Please don’t worry.” Remus looked down at her fondly. “I missed you very much.”

“I missed you too. Thank you so much for the Owl. I’ve named it Nox. I thought it was fitting.”

“You’re very welcome. I’m glad to see you fitting in with your housemates.” Her smile was glowing. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw her this happy, but it had been a while.

“Oh! The Dementors!” She exclaimed. “I can’t believe they were on the train. It must have been awful. Harry was lucky you were with them. Do- do you think their presence could be what caused me to have such a horrible reaction?” Remus considered this for a moment. He could only wish that was the reason, any alternative wasn’t something he liked. His fear was that it was Sirius that was causing her issues. The darkness she continued to see, her more morose attitude since he had escaped caused Remus great concern. Her eyes were brighter and she seemed back to her lighter demeanor. No doubt Snape’s potion was responsible for that.

“It could be. We can’t be sure. We’ll just have to take it one day at a time. If you start feeling that badly you must tell me at once.”

“It was strange, it came on really strong. I could feel a headache approaching after my session with Professor Snape, but it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. I just assumed that I would have a nasty headache the next day. But then it took me over and I was so sick. It was quite awful. But Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore were wonderful. As was Madam Pomfrey. Even Professor Snape showed concern. Once I could eat the House Elves were thrilled to have someone to tend to.”

“I had no doubt that you were in excellent hands.” He watched as something passed through Hope’s eyes. “What is it darling?”

“Professor Dumbledore brought me a couple of pictures. There was one of you and Mum while you were at Hogwarts. It’s a lovely picture. Then there was another.” She looked down for a moment and looked back up at Remus. He gave her a moment to collect her thoughts. “I was sitting with Lily and Harry was with my mother. James and my father were standing behind us. We all looked so happy.” Hope looked deflated. Remus knew the exact photo she was referring to. Nora had it in a frame on a bookshelf. Albus must have gone to her home after he delivered Harry to the Dursley home. It was like Albus to save things he thought Hope might want later on. Remus hadn’t been able to renter Nora’s home after she died. Albus and some of the remaining Order members had done it for him. He wondered what else Dumbledore had stashed. Remus flooded with concern as he saw Hope’s grey eyes water.

“What is it darling?” He was questioning Dumbledore’s timing of the picture.

“I just...I can reconcile the man from that photo and the mass murder that everyone is so scared of. I just want to know what happened. I need to know what made him do what he did. He loved us. I could see it in his eyes in that picture. I just wish I could talk to him, just once.” He watched as she closed her eyes for a moment. Remus felt alarm bells ringing in his brain. He pulled Hope over to the chairs in his office and sat her down. He took the seat across from her and she watches as he leaned forward, his head in his hands. When he finally looked up at her, she saw his eyes filled with fear.

“Hope- I know this is difficult. Merlin knows that I know. I have the same questions that you have. I would give anything to get the answers not only for you, but for myself too. You MUST promise me that you will NOT go looking for your father. He is dangerous. I don’t know what kind of state that he is in, but 12 years in Azkaban surrounded by dementors? I cant imagine he is stable.”

“Uncle Remus-“ Hope started but he stopped her.

“PROMISE ME!” Hope jumped. In her almost 14 years of life she couldn’t remember him ever yelling at her.

“Okay, I promise!” She blinked back tears. She wouldn’t even know how to find her father. It wasn’t like she’d be leaving castle grounds any time soon anyway.

“I’m sorry. I just can’t allow you to get hurt. I wouldn’t survive if something happened to you. I’m afraid I need you just as much as you need me.” Hope felt guilt flood her. This man gave up his whole life to take care of her. He loved her so much. Not one day in her life did she feel like the orphan she was.

“Uncle Remus you will not lose me. I promise that I won’t do anything reckless. I just, I guess I can’t help but to be curious.”

“I know darling, I know.” He went to say more but there was another knock at the door. Remus stood and walked over and opened the door.

“Good evening Professor Lupin, Professor McGonagall asked me to come fetch Hope so she was back in time for curfew. She apologizes for interrupting.” Hermione stood on the other side of the door.

“Of course, of course. Do you mind giving us just. moment?” Hermione nodded. Remus walked back over to Hope, who was now standing.

“We can talk more about this tomorrow.” The tension in his voice had melted a away.

“I don’t think there is much more to discuss. It’s alright. Please don’t worry Uncle Remus. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay darling. Go back to your common room and get some rest I’ll see you tomorrow.” Hope hugged him one more time and felt him kiss the top of her head.”

“Good night.” She quickly headed out into the hall to meet Hermione.

“Ready?” Hope smiled and Hermione nodded. “So what are Lavender and Pavarti like?”

“They’re...fine...the two of them are very close. They’re best friends.” Hermione’s voice was clipped. Hope scrunched her forehead. Clearly there must have been some strain in the relationship between her new roommates. Hope stopped walking and took Hermione’s wrist.

“Hermione, I’ve- I’ve never had any true friends. I grew up in a predominantly muggle town. It was on the beach so most of the kids only came in the summer. There were a handful of kids who lived there all year ‘round. But I was always the weird girl that was homeschooled and spent all of her time drawing. I’d- I’d really like it if we could try to be friends.” Hermione beamed at her. There was something about Hermione that set Hope at ease. That was one of the best things about being what she was, she could almost always tell if someone was trustworthy or not.

“I would really like that. If I’m being honest, I don’t always have the easiest time making friends. Harry and Ron are my best friends, but it would be really nice to have a close girlfriend.” Hope linked her arm through Hermione’s.

“It’s settled then. We’ll be best girlfriends and you can tell me about all of the ridiculous things Ron and Harry have done. I’ve known Ron for a long time, so I can only imagine.” Hermione laughed along with Hope, feeling lighter than she had earlier in the evening.

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

Everything had been a whirlwind after Hope and Hermione had returned to the Gryffindor common room. Once they arrived, they had said a quick goodnight to Ron and Harry and hurried off to bed. They spent breakfast the next morning consoling Harry over Malfoy’s jeers. Hope looked at Malfoy curiously. Tonks was right on her assessment of him. Though Hope did enjoy hearing about how he ran and hid from the dementors in George and Fred’s compartment. Then there had been Divinations. Sybil Trewlawney was a hack and Hope was insulted by her farce of a class. The whole set up was a joke. While she possibly had a small talent in sight, any Seer worth their salt didn’t behave that way. But announcing that Harry’s tea leaves showed a Grimm had their entire class on edge. McGonagall was trying to show off her Animagus form, but no one seemed to care. Hope had taken the seat next to Harry. She could see he was nervous, she bumped his shoulder with hers and smiled at him to try and make him feel better. His return smile didn't reach his eyes. She knew his thoughts were on her father. Arthur Weasley had told him that Sirius Black was most likely trying to find Harry to kill him as he was in the way of Voldemort's return.

“Really, what has got into you all today?” said Professor McGonagall, turning back into herself with a faint pop and staring around at them all. “Not that it matters, but that’s the first time my transformation’s not got applause from a class.” Hope smirked. Professor McGonagall was definitely going to be her favorite teacher. Everybody’s heads turned toward Harry again, but nobody spoke. Then Hermione raised her hand.

“Please, Professor, we’ve just had our first Divination class, and we were reading the tea leaves, and —”

“Ah, of course,” said Professor McGonagall, suddenly frowning. “There is no need to say any more, Miss Granger. Tell me, which of you will be dying this year?” Everyone stared at her. Hope could barely contain her laughter at this point. The Sardonic expression on McGonagall's face was too perfect.

“Me,” said Harry, finally as he slumped in his chair.

“I see,” said Professor McGonagall, “Then you should know, Potter, that Sybill Trelawney has predicted the death of one student a year since she arrived at this school. None of them has died yet. Seeing death omens is her favorite way of greeting a new class. If it were not for the fact that I never speak ill of my colleagues —” Hope quirked an eyebrow as Professor McGonagall broke off, and she saw that her nostrils had gone white. She went on, more calmly, “Divination is one of the most imprecise branches of magic. I shall not conceal from you that I have very little patience with it. True Seers are very rare, and Professor Trelawney —” When she mentioned True Seers being rare her gaze fixed on Hope. Hope could feel the heat rising to her cheeks. She stopped again, and then said, in a very matter-of-fact tone, “You look in excellent health to me, Potter, so you will excuse me if I don’t let you off homework today. I assure you that if you die, you need not hand it in.” Hope could'nt contain herself anymore, her barky laugh echoed throughout the room, which apparently had pleased Professor McGonagall. Harry seemed to lighted slightly. Hope felt Harry's eyes on her and she glanced in his directions.

"Are you okay? You look kind of flushed."

"What? Oh, yes I'm fine. I guess I'm just a little warm, that's all." Hope turned her attention back to Professor McGonagall, feeling Harry's eyes linger on her for a few moments longer.

Later that evening, Hope sat in the common room looking into the fire. The calmness of her mind had ebbed and flowed back into liquid filled black and anguish. Snape's potion had started to wear off. She had a headache. Transfiguration had been followed by a lunch where Hermione and Ron had argued back and forth about how reliable Trewlawney and Divination was. Harry had apparently seen a black dog so Ron was convinced he was going to die. Hope had been slightly wounded by some of the things Hermione had said about Divination. Would she think Hope was a hack if she found out? Would she still want to be friends with her? Hope rubbed the spot in between her eyebrows trying to assuage her headache.

Care of Magical Creatures had included sniping between Harry and Malfoy, Buckbeak the beautiful Hippogriff and then Malfoy getting himself attacked by it. '"My father will hear about this" echoed in her brain. It didn't bode well for Hagrid or Buckbeak. She had wanted to punch Malfoy for his making fun of Harry and the dementors, but she didn't want to tangle with Malfoy if it could be avoided. At least Buckbeak got a few hits in. The stress of Hagrid's class had carried over to dinner. Harry, Hermione and Ron had gone to see Hagrid. Hope had opted to stay behind even after the three begged her to go and meet Hagrid. She really wasn't feeling well and needed a break from the bickering.

Her thoughts traveled back to her father. She was still unsure about what she was feeling. She had the picture of her and Harry's family in her hand. He seemed so carefree, and happy. Hope was obsessed with figuring out what exactly had gone wrong. She couldn't stand it. Hope slid the picture into her Transfiguration book when she heard the portrait swing open. Dean Thomas had stepped through.

"Uh...Hope...there's someone outside for you." Hope's brow furrowed. Who would be coming to see her that couldn't enter the Griffyndor common room? She didn't really have any friends yet outside of her housemates.

"Thanks Dean." She slid her Transfiguration book into her bag and left it next to her chair. She made her way to the portrait and slowly climbed out. Standing there was a tall and extremely handsome young man with chiseled features, dark hair, and bright blue-grey eyes. Hope felt something bubble within her stomach.

"Hey Hope." The boy had one of the most charming smiles she had ever seen, as it reached his eyes, the skin around them crinkled. "I'm Cedric Diggory. Madam Hooch asked me to give you some flying lessons. She said you've never been on a broom before?"

"That's correct. And I would really appreciate any lessons." Hope was willing herself not to blush, but she knew it was a futile attempt. His eyes bore into hers and she swore she could drown in them. They reminded her of the ocean back home.

"Excellent. Tomorrow afternoon? Meet me on the training grounds. We can have our first lesson before my Quidditch practice."

"Sounds good." Hope glanced away from a moment, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

"I'll see you tomorrow then, nice meeting you." He reached out and squeezed her upper arm so she would make eye contact again and delivered his million dollar smile. "Goodnight Hope."

"Night Cedric..." Her voice trailed off. As she was watching him walk away, Harry, Hermione and Ron were heading towards her. Harry had a pinched expression.

"Your face is all red again Hope." He commented and Hermione grinned like a Cheshire cat.

"That's because she was talking to Cedric." Hermione teased.

"What did he want?" Ron had crossed his arms in front of him. Hope cleared her throat.

"Madam Hooch asked Cedric to give me flying lessons."

“Why wouldn’t she just ask Harry? He’s in your house and is the best flyer at the school.” Ron gave Hope an accusatory look which caused her to extensively roll her eyes.

“Maybe she heard about Trelawney’s prediction and is afraid he’ll be dead by then.” Hope threw her arms up. Harry started laughing. “I don’t bloody know! I was too sick mysecond week here to meet with her myself.” Hope realized what she had said but it was too late to take it back.

“Sick? Sick with what?” Harry’s face flooded with concern. Hope sighed, her loose lips would cause her to lie to her new friends again.

“I just- I get bad headaches. Potions don’t really help. I had a nasty few days before school started. That’s all. Can we go in?” Hope hurried into the common room, missing the looks shared between the three and their silent communication that signaled that they didn’t exactly believe her.

The next day had been another hectic day. Potions had been awful. Snape, ever the menace, had terrorized poor Neville. Hope and Hermione had gotten in trouble for helping Neville fix his potion so Snape wouldn’t poison his poor toad. But the things that Draco had said to needle Harry were fresh in her mind. Hope continued to question why Harry would want revenge on her father? Was there something else she didn’t know or what it just Draco being a jerk? Both possibilities were likely, It was hard to tell. She didn’t want to ask Remus. She didn’t know if he would be truthful. She was extremely proud of him though. He had knocked the Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson out of the park. Snape dressed like Neville’s gran was the highlight of the class, though Hope was sure that it would get back to Snape and Neville would b e made to pay for it. It didn’t go unnoticed by her that he prevented not only Harry but also herself from facing the Boggart. No one seemed to notice his was the full moon. Hope thought on what her boggart would be. At first, she thought it would be her father, but deep down, she knew it was herself. She was terrified of who she would become.

“You shouldn’t take your flying lesson so seriously.” Hope hadn’t even heard Cedric approach. She really had to stop getting so lost in herself, this was not the first time today someone had caught her off guard. She had missed a whole monologue of Hermione’s as she was focused on the images in her mind. Black painted canvases with slashed through it.

“Sorry, I was just overthinking.”

“You seem to do that a lot.” Cedric has his hand on the back of his neck as he looked down at her.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You seem to get wrapped up in your own thoughts in the Great Hall. I pay attention.” Hope found herself trying to stifle another blush.

“I didn’t think I was so interesting.”

“You’re very interesting. You just don’t pay enough attention to realize it.” She scoffed. Cedric decided to not continue to push. “Your Uncle is a bloody brilliant teacher.” Hope beamed at his comment.

“Isn’t he?”

“I mean we’ve had some bad defense professors.” Hope’s laugh filled the air.

“So I’ve heard.” Cedric smiled brightly.

“You should do that more often. Your laugh is incredible.” Was he flirting with her? Hope grew slightly sheepish.

“Thanks Cedric.” There was absolutely no way her face wasn’t flaming red at this point.

“You’re welcome. So, let’s get started yeah?”

Cedric managed to teach her to get the broom in her hand, mount it and slightly hover above the ground. Actually taking off wasn’t going to happen. She was too nervous. Cedric made her nervous. Being up in the air was also terrifying to her.

“C’mon Hope...where’s that Griffyndor courage I hear so much about, eh?” He was standing behind her and whispered it in her ear. She felt goose bumps erupt over her skin. She was not about tolet some boy get the best of her. She elbowed him in the stomach, not too hard, but enough to throw him off his game.

“Oh shut It Diggory.” She spun around with a hand on her hip starring him down as he was slightly hunched over from her elbow to the stomach, but he was laughing.

“Oi, Hope! Are you guys almost done? I’ll wait for you so we can head back to the common room together.” Harry came jogging over, glancing between Hope and Cedric. His messy hair still damp from the showers after Quidditch practice. Hope was grateful for the interruption. She wasn’t sure how she felt about Cedric Diggory as of yet. While he was certainly handsome and very charming, but he was probably like that with every girl he spoke to. She wasn’t about to let herself fall into that.

“Am I done Diggory?”

“Actually yes, I think that’s enough for today. We’ll try again next week.” Cedric has straightened up since Harry had come over. “Have a good night Lupes.” The nick name hung in the air as he clapped Harry on the shoulder and headed towards the Quidditch pitch to start his practice. Harry had his eyebrows raised.

“Lupes?”

“Cedric thinks he’s cute.” Hope make an exaggerated eye roll. Harry was starting to like that expression as much as her smile.

“Do you think he’s cute.” Hope scoffed and shoved Harry slightly.

“Oh shut it.” She linked her arm in is. “C’mon, lets walk to the common room, you can tell me all about your Quidditch practice.

“Alright.” Harry gave Hope a slight smile and tried to ignore that she didn’t answer his question. He liked spending time with Hope, she was captivating, smart and really witty. He wished she would open up more. He knew she was guarded. He knew there was something she wasn’t telling him. He didn’t think he liked her, liked her. But he also didn’t like the idea of her hanging out with Cedric. Cedric could win anyone over. She was laughing as he was giving her his best Oliver Wood impression as they approached the common room. Everyone was excited over Hogsmeade weekend. Hope bumped her shoulder into Harry’s as she often did to get his attention. She could see his good mood had deflated.

“If you can’t go, I’ll stay back with you.” Hope offered. She really didn't even mind, she liked hanging out with Harry. While Hogsmeade would be fun, she didn't want him to be alone.

“Hope, you don’t have to do that. You shouldn’t be stuck here because I can’t go.”

“It’s not a big deal. I only really want to go to Honey Dukes. I’m dying to stock up on some candy. I have a killer sweet tooth.”

“I hadn’t noticed.” Harry smirked at her. Hopes diet consisted of at least one piece of chocolate cake a day. She was always snacking on something sweet. She shot him a glare.

“Git...” They both laughed. “I mean it, I can literally just give Hermione a list and some money. I know she’ll get everything.”

“Maybe McGonagall will say I can go if I talk to her about explain about my Uncle.” Though Harry knew neither he or Hope really believed that she would. The rest of the evening was filled with homework and Ron and Hermione arguing over Crookshanks. It ended ubruptly with the cat trying to attack Ron’s rat. The tension between them carried on into the next day.

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

”Really Harry! I don’t mind staying behind with you.” Hope felt awful. Harry had been bummed out for days. As expected, McGonagall had shot him down.

“If you stay behind, I’ll just feel worse. Go, really, it’ll be fine." He gave her a light shove towards Ron and Hermione. “I’ll see you for the feast” he yelled after her. Harry didn’t want to ruin her day at Hogsmeade. She had missed out on her first two years at Hogwarts, he didn’t want her to miss this. Hope had become very good friends with Harry, Ron and Hermione. Harry liked how close she and Hermione had gotten. He knew it was good for both of them. There was still something she was holding back, he knew it, they all knew it. They also knew she wasn't ready to tell them everything yet. As much has Harry wanted to sit her down and beg her to spill her guts, he refrained. Arthur Weasley's advice to let her open up in her own time still rang in his mind. They did, however, ask why she hadn't started at Hogtwarts with them. She had told them that her grandfather had been seriously ill when they were in their first and second years at Hogwarts. She had decided to stay with him and Remus as she knew he was close to passing.. He had died half way through their second year. That summer, Dumbledore had suggested that both Remus and Hope come to Hogwarts. Something about the story seemed off to Harry, but he didn’t know how to bring it up. Harry headed back to the common room, contemplating the mystery that was Hope Lupin.

Hope walked arm in arm with Hermione and Ron, guilt flooding her. She hated leaving Harry behind. Ron tried to reassure her that everything would be okay. He didn't like leaving Harry behind either, but his friend was too proud to be okay with them not going and staying with him.

“He’ll be alright. We’ll bring him back loads of stuff.” Ron quipped. Hope tried to put her guilt to the back of her mind. She was happy to be going. Truth be told, she wasn’t sure Remus would even let her. Her father had been sighted by a muggle not that long ago and she was worried he would want to keep her on the castle grounds. Hope felt another twinge of guilt. This time because she still hadn’t told her 3 friends the truth about who she really was. The guilt was eating away at her. She just couldn't find the right time, or the right words. She could imagine Harry's eyes filling with disgust at the blood that ran through her veins. She knew she would have to tell them eventually. She hated lying and she really wasn't great at it either.

They went from shop to shop. The three had decided to hit Honeydukes last so they could bring Harry a bunch of treats and not have to carry them all throughout Hogsmeade. After a considerable amount of time with George and Fred in Zonko’s Joke Shop; Ron, Hermione and Hope made their way to The Three Broomsticks. As they walked in, it was packed with Hogwarts students and members of the magical community alike. They had been sitting at a table enjoying their butter beers when the chatter started. The words came swooping around Hope and overwhelmed her. “Sirius Black is a murderer. Sirius Black wants to kill Harry Potter. Sirius Black is a monster. He’s Dangerous. Muggle Killer. Death Eater.”

Hope got up quickly and bolted out the door. The pain on her head had been a minor irritation as of late, even if the blackness still swirled about. Hearing her fathers name over and over like a chant and everything the had done had been too much. It felt like her skull was splitting in two. She made her way over to a bench at an empty area near the pub and sank down. She couldn’t do this anymore. It was too hard. Hope felt a wave of intense sadness push through her. As she looked up and blinked back her tears, she could have sworn she saw a black dog in the distance, but when she wiped her eyes there was nothing there.

“Hope! There you are! What’s wrong? And don’t say nothing!” Ron sat down next to her, soon followed by Hermione.

“I can’t.” She shook her head started to cry. “You’ll hate me. Harry will hate me too.” Hermione wrapped her arms around her friend.

“You are our friend. We couldn’t ever hate you.” She tried to comfort Hope. “Seriously Hope, you’re one of us.”

“You- you cant tell Harry. I have to tell him on my own.”

“We won’t.” Ron jumped in. Hermione nodded in agreement.

“I- Sirius Black is my father.” Hermione and Ron both froze for a moment. They knew she was keeping some secrets, but neither one of them had expected that. No one ever mentioned Sirius Black having a child. Hope took a deep breath and blurted out everything. Who her mother was, what her mother was, what Hope was. How her Uncle had given up his life to take care of her. How he kept her from Hogwarts to protect her, terrified that Voldemort's followers would come looking for her too.

“You’re, you’re a Seer?” was the first thing Hermione could ask. “Merlin Hope! I’m so sorry. I said all of those horrible things about Divination." Hermione felt absolutely awful. She knew there were actual seers, but that class was just so ridiculous. Never in a million years did Hermione think she knew a seer. The regret was painted all over Hermione's face.

“No Hermione don’t apologize - that class is awful. My mother was never like that. I’m not like that. I don’t know if I’m a ‘true seer’ like McGonagall said. I don’t get clear visions yet. But my mother...she was the real deal. That’s why they killed her. Because she wouldn’t help Voldemort.” Hermione still had her arm wrapped around Hope. “You don’t hate me because my father is a murderer? They say-“

“They say a lot of things Hope. It doesn’t matter. It’s not your fault what he did. You’re a good person and a good friend. That’s what matters. That’s all that will matter to Harry.” Ron offered her a smile.

“You think so?”

“Definitely. C’mon- let’s hit Honeydukes before we have to go back.”

“Hope, just, tell Harry soon. He’d want to hear it from you.” Hermione helped Hope to her feet. She knew a secret like this could crack wide open. Harry wouldn't be upset that she was the daughter of Sirius Black, he would be upset if Hope didn't tell him and he found out that Ron and Hermione knew.

“I will. I promise.”

“A nasty temper he’s got...that Sirius Black” They had been having a perfectly lovely evening at the feast, Hope laughing audibly about the idea of Snape openly poisoning her Uncle, pointing out how ridiculous Harry and Ron were being. They enjoyed the wonderful food at the feast and told Ron stories of what Muggle Halloween was like. Now they were standing in front of the Gryffindor Common Room with the Fat Lady’s portrait slashed by her father. Hope had unknowingly gripped Harry’s hand. Harry had assumed she was just scared at the prospect of Sirius Black being in the castle.

"It'll be okay. We'll be safe." Harry had whispered in Hope's ear. If he only knew why she was so freaked out. She had wanted to tell him tonight, but now, there was no way. The entire student body was being whisked away to The Great Hall while the teachers searched the school. She hadn’t even gotten to speak with her Uncle. They had locked eyes, concern flooding his face, but now he was gone. Harry, Hope, Ron and Hermione had pulled their sleeping bags over to a corner. Percy’s “holier than thou” attitude grating on their nerves

All around them, people were asking one another the same question: “How did he get in?” “Maybe he knows how to Apparate,” said a Ravenclaw a few feet away. “Just appear out of thin air, you know.” “Disguised himself, probably,” said a Hufflepuff fifth year. “He could’ve flown in,” suggested Dean Thomas.

Hope's headache was overtaking her again. She was afraid she was going to get sick like she had prior to the start of the term. She felt frantic. She had to figure out how to get clear visions like her mother had. Maybe if she could really figure out how to use her Seer abilities, she wouldn't feel so awful all of the time. But who was there for her to go to? Trewlawney? That was a joke. Hope could feel Harry's eyes on her, but she didn't dare make any sort of eye contact with him. Luckily Hermione went on a rant that distracted them all.

“Honestly, am I the only person who’s ever bothered to read Hogwarts: A History?” said Hermione crossly to Harry and Ron.

“Probably,” said Ron. “Why?”

“Because the castle’s protected by more than walls, you know,” said Hermione. “There are all sorts of enchantments on it, to stop people entering by stealth. You can’t just Apparate in here. And I’d like to see the disguise that could fool those dementors. They’re guarding every single entrance to the grounds. They’d have seen him fly in too. And Filch knows all the secret passages, they’ll have them covered. . . .”

“The lights are going out now!” Percy shouted. “I want everyone in their sleeping bags and no more talking!” Hope was grateful for the silence. She was laying on her stomach in between Harry and Hermione. She was taking deep breaths to calm the anxiety pumping through her veins. She could sense the blackness ready to take over once again. She snapped her eyes open when she felt someone place their hand over hers. Harry's green eyes were staring back, filled with concern.

"You okay?" He mouthed to her, not wanting to draw Percy's attention. She nodded her head. He squeezed her hand to reassure her. She expected him to pull it away, but he didn't. She felt guilt flooding back in. He had been such a good friend to her since she got to Hogwarts and all she had done was lie to him. If Percy wasn't such an annoying git she could have pulled him to a back corner of The Great Hall and told him everything. Instead, they laid in silence with his hand over hers. He was trying to comfort her while every knew that the reason Sirius Black had come to Hogwarts was to get to him. Hope couldn’t help but wonder if he was there to see her too. The idea that he was only there to murder a teenage boy and not to see his daughter was too much for her to bear.

Once every hour, a teacher would reappear in the hall to check that everything was quiet. Around three in the morning, when many students had finally fallen asleep, Professor Dumbledore came in. Harry and Hope watched him looking around for Percy, who had been prowling between the sleeping bags, telling people off for talking. Percy was only a short way away from Harry and Hope who quickly pretended to be asleep as Dumbledore’s footsteps drew nearer.

“Any sign of him, Professor?” asked Percy in a whisper.

“No. All well here?”

“Everything under control, sir.”

“Good. There’s no point moving them all now. I’ve found a temporary guardian for the Gryffindor portrait hole. You’ll be able to move them back in tomorrow.”

“And the Fat Lady, sir?”

“Hiding in a map of Argyllshire on the second floor. Apparently she refused to let Black in without the password, so he attacked. She’s still very distressed, but once she’s calmed down, I’ll have Mr. Filch restore her.” They heard the door of the hall creak open again, and more footsteps.

“Headmaster?” It was Snape. Harry kept quite still, listening hard. “The whole of the third floor has been searched. He’s not there. And Filch has done the dungeons; nothing there either.”

“What about the Astronomy Tower? Professor Trelawney’s room? The Owlery?” “All searched . . .”

“Very well, Severus. I didn’t really expect Black to linger.”

“Have you any theory as to how he got in, Professor?” asked Snape.

“Many, Severus, each of them as unlikely as the next.”

“You remember the conversation we had, Headmaster, just before — ah — the start of term?” said Snape, who was barely opening his lips, as though trying to block Percy out of the conversation.

“I do, Severus,” said Dumbledore, and there was something like warning in his voice.

“It seems — almost impossible — that Black could have entered the school without inside help. I did express my concerns when you appointed —” Hope felt red hot anger pulse through veins. She knew exactly what Severus Snape was referring to. There was no way that her Uncle would help Sirius Black get into the castle. It was taking all of her self control to not jump up and scream at him.

“I do not believe a single person inside this castle would have helped Black enter it,” said Dumbledore, and his tone made it so clear that the subject was closed that Snape didn’t reply. “I must go down to the dementors,” said Dumbledore. “I said I would inform them when our search was complete.”

“Didn’t they want to help, sir?” said Percy.

“Oh yes,” said Dumbledore coldly. “But I’m afraid no dementor will cross the threshold of this castle while I am headmaster.”

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

It had been two weeks since Sirius Black broke into Hogwarts. Hope was leaning against the tree in front of the Black Lake furiously sketching. It was cold, but sunny and she missed sitting near the water. She desperately wanted her music. She couldn't figure out why her Discman wouldn’t work until Hermione explained muggle technology wouldn't work at Hogwarts because of all the magic. She had all but thrown it out the window. The itch in the back of her head ever present, she was desperate for her music to soothe her.

She had been very quiet since Halloween night, withdrawn almost. Hope had avoided being alone with Harry since the night Sirius broke into the castle. Hermione was urging her to tell Harry every day since and Hope had every intention of telling him on Halloween. Now, the longer she didn't tell him, the easier it was to keep the secret. Her Uncle had noticed the change in her, but she refused to talk about it. She had been pushing him away as well, something she had never done before. Even the other students could see the crack in their relationship. While he never showed Hope favoritism, their closeness was always apparent, She didn't want to talk to Remus about her father. She knew he wasn't being entirely honest and she didn't want to blow up at him. She didn't want to hear about how she couldn't go and search for him again, even if she wanted to, it would be impossible. The entire staff at Hogwarts had been put on red alert. She noticed teachers, prefects and Percy Weasley lurking around Hope and Harry frequently. The fact that she had gotten away to get some time alone at the black lake was astonishing. She had even blown off her flying lessons with Cedric, he tried to coax her out of her morose attitude but she completely shut him down. He had relented and said that he would be in touch to reschedule her lessons. He had a feeling it wouldn't be happening any time soon. Hope's ears perked up and she slammed the cover to her sketch book closes when she hears footsteps approaching. Before she could move another muscle, Harry was standing in front of her.

”Hey- hey Harry. I th-thought you had Quidditch practice.” she stumbled through the sentence, not prepared in the slightest to speak with him.

”Yeah I lied. You've been avoiding me and the only way you'd let your guard down and not hide from me is if you thought I was busy. Did I do something to upset you? You can just tell me, I wouldn't do it intentionally.” Hope took a deep breath and pat the grass next to her. Harry gratefully took a seat. ”Tell me what’s wrong.” His green eyes were pleading.

”You’re right. I've been avoiding you, but you didn't do anything wrong. It's me. I- I haven't been honest. I was going to tell you on Halloween, but then everything that happened ruined the chance and I've been avoiding it ever since.” Harry knew you had been holding back but he didn't want to interrupt you. ”My father is Sirius Black.” Harry blinked. He certainly hadn't been expecting that. ”He and my mother met at Hogwarts. She was a year younger than my Uncle Remus, she and my father met when she was sorted into Gryffindor. They fell in love and for a while they fought Voldemort together.” It didn't go unnoticed that she said Voldemort's name without even a flinch, Remus had done the same thing. Hope paused for a moment to collect herself. ”I-I don't know what happened. Everyone that knew him said that he rejected Voldemort's beliefs. He was this charismatic and charming boy. That he loved my mother and his friends fiercely. He was a Gryffindor through and through. The happiest he had ever been was when my mother was pregnant with me. They had been so happy, HE had been so happy. Then on the night that the Death Eaters killed my mother, he killed all of those muggles. And now he apparently is after you.” Hope was teetering on the edge of hysterical.

”Hope- why we're you afraid to tell me?” Harry didn't know what else to say to her. It was no wonder she was keeping that close to the vest. He knew that some of the other students wouldn't react favorably.

”I was afraid you’d hate me. Everyone- my uncle, Dumbledore, Fudge, they all think that it's better that no one knows. Not everyone knew that Sirius Black had a child. I was born in the middle of a war and my parents wanted to keep me safe, so very few knew. But I couldn't not tell you guys, you're my friends. I don't want to keep lying to you.”

”You told the other two already. That's why its everything has been so weird since then” Hope nodded.

”When we were in Hogsmeade. I didn't even plan on telling them. There were so many people talking about him at the Three Broomsticks and I just got so upset. I had to tell them at that point. Harry, I-I swear I was going to tell you that night and then after everything that happened...I just got really scared again.” Hope felt Harry slip his arm around her as she cried with her face in her hands.

”Hope, it's okay. Listen, loads of kids have parents that were involved with Voldemort. You're not responsible for what he did.”

”There’s more.” Hope took a few deep breaths to calm herself. ”Voldemort went after my mother for her specific skill set. Skills she passed on to me.”

”Hope, you're killing me with the suspense.” Harry joked. He saw a little smile crack through her tears.

”My mother was a seer. A true seer. Nothing like the rubbish Trewlawney spouts. She was excellent Harry. He wanted her to help him win the war. Instead of being with us, my father was out doing his bidding. My mother begged Remus to get me to safety. She stayed behind to hold them off. She knew she was going to die. She died for me.” Harry felt awful. He didn't know what to say to make her feel better, how do you make someone feel better about that?

”Wait, so you can see the future?” Hope scoffed.

”Not exactly. It's a skill you have to work at. I see flashes of things, but it's hard to pick out what will happen from what could happen. Most of what I see right now is about myself, people that are connected to me or people that I've come into contact with. I sometimes can get flashes of a person's memory. It's not all of the time. I've learned how to kind of block that. It was harder when I was a kid. My mother learned how to hone her abilities on her own. She was truly amazing from what I've been told. There must have been a seer in our family at some point. I, apparently, am not as good as my mother. I just can’t figure it out.”

“What is it like?”

“It-it’s...you know Muggle puzzles? It’s like someone dumped all of the pieces into a pile and I’m trying to put it together, but I don’t have the picture on the box to guide me. It’s just a jumbled mess. I get a lot of headaches. Nasty ones.”

“Is that why you were sick before the start of term?” Hope nodded her head.

“Since my father’s escape, all I can see is darkness, blackness. I get these intense feelings of anger- rage almost, sadness, anxiety, horrible depression, but it’s as if someone turned out the lights. Except one night. I saw a flash of purple and then a pair of eyes.”

“A pair of eyes?” Hope flipped open her sketch book to the picture of Harry’s eyes that she drew. She heard him suck in his breath. “You saw my eyes?” He ran his fingers over the picture. He didn’t know what he thought or what he was feeling.

“Yeah...for a while after, until the night I met you actually I saw you looking at me. It’s why I was so freaked out when we bumped into each other and I realized it was you that I had been seeing.”

“You’re really talented.”

“Thank you. Drawing has always helped me clear my head.”

“Can I see what you were drawing when I got here?” He watched her freeze for a moment and then she flipped to the front of the book. He was younger, cleaner, well fed and happy; but Harry knew it was Sirius Black. He was at a loss for words again.

“I just- why wasn’t I enough? Why wasn’t she enough for him? I just want answers that no one can give me.” She was crying again. Hope hated crying in front of anyone. She felt Harry’s arm get tighter around her. “I get these polarized stories about him and I can’t sort it out. I was- I was hoping he would want to find me. To see me, to explain why he did what he did. Maybe he had a reason, you know? But then he broke into the castle and did what he did. And I know he’s here for you and not me. He thinks if he gets rid of you that Voldemort will return. I don’t mean anything to him. I’m nothing. And yet, the idea of him getting hurt, of the dementors getting their hands on him, it tears me apart.”

“Hope- you’re not nothing. And I can tell, your Uncle is so proud of you. I can see it when he’s looking at you and when he talks about you. You’re everything. You’re brilliant and brave. You’re kind. Your friendship with Hermione has transformed her. It’s hard being friends with me and Ron. Now she has you too. Hope you’re one of us. So to hell with Sirius Black. He lost out on having an incredible daughter. You’re amazing and I’m honored that you’re one of my best friends. And there's nothing wrong with not wanting anything bad to happen to your parent, even after they did terrible things. That's normal.” Hope leaned her head on Harry’s shoulder. They sat in silence for a while.

“Thanks Harry.” The two continued to sit there, not saying anything. Harry contemplated what to say next to reassure her. He wanted her to know that regardless of what happened with Sirius Black that he would always be on her side.

“I couldn’t ever hate you, not for anything. I will always be here for you. I will always be your friend. C’mon, we should get inside. It’s getting late and you’re freezing.” Harry stood and pulled Hope to her feet and then hugged her tightly. They stood that way for a moment before Harry led her back to the castle. In the distance, a black dog watched the two teens retreat with a feeling of longing that panged deep inside Hope.

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sandalaris · 4 years ago

Note

20, 35 for aLiN, 50 and 54 for the writer asks!

Thanks! XD

I answered 54 here!

20. Post a snippet of a WIP you’re working on.

Completely unedited, but a snippet from the Kate-centric, post season 3 fic. (although this has been edited for here because it holds some potential spoilers for later on in the fic and at least one misleading line)

“You need to find a way to reclaim your body for yourself,” Kisa continues as if Richie had never spoken.

“Is that what you did?” Her voice sounds lost and she doesn’t like it, but she can’t stop herself from clinging to the thought that she won’t always be like this, the hope that she can get better.

“Yes.”

“How?”

“I had sex with Richard.”

Seth chokes on his drink, coughing loudly into the suddenly silent kitchen. Kate can’t see Richie’s face, can’t take her own stunned gaze from the woman before her, but he must be doing something because Kisa looks past her with a softened eyes and parted lips, before returning her attention firmly back to Kate, effectively ignoring both brothers.

“I cared for him and wanted him. But most importantly I trusted him. Physical connection with someone you trust can be a very powerful thing.”

“I don’t trust a lot of people,” Kate blurts out, clinging to the last part like a lifeline as her cheeks burn.

“Now hold on,” Seth cuts in, words spilling forth in a rush to take control of the conversation. “Let’s just take a fucking breath before we make any rash decisions here.”

“Kate?” Richie says quietly, a warning and a question and a promise all at once. And Kate knows, has seen the darkest depths and bright, blinding edges of Richard’s tortured soul, has the taste of it etched into her very existence.

Kisa must hear it too, because she almost freezes, thoughts shuttering behind her dark eyes as she carefully holds her body in a practiced state of relaxation. Seth’s protests grow louder.

“I don’t think sex is what I need,” Kate says slowly, and the room goes quiet, Seth tapering off from where he’s been holding a one-side argument against the whole conversation with the room at large.

35. Tell some backstory details about one of your characters in your story ________.

Let’s see, who have I not given background details on yet? And that won’t also give away future spoilers....

Scott still sets a party with his lacrosse team in this, but since Kate shows up a day later in this fic than in canon, it happened before she gets to Bethel. Under all that desire for revenge (a lot of which is misplaced anger from being a kept chained up at Narciso’s feet for three months) the core of what Scott wants is acceptance so the party goes a bit different. Scott leaves, for starters, when his hunger starts to threaten his control, snagging a neighbor’s pet and then hiding from the sun at home. So while Scott hasn’t killed quite so many people that Kate personally knows/knows about, he’s still the angry little murder bean he is in canon.

Mild-ish spoilers: Kate’s return to Seth has had positive ripples (Seth doesn’t keep Sonja around, Richie is forced to take off his blinders and see how actions affect other people, Kate has someone else backing her for her confrontation with Scott), because Kate is observant and sees the good in people. But a less-than-positive result is that Freddie’s still all alone in his own journey and will be worse off for it.

50. Weirdest story idea you’ve ever had.

Hmm, gotta think about that.

Probably my weirdest-yet-serious fic is a body swap BtVS fic with the whole scooby gang. I actually wrote a good chunk of it out before I lost it all in a computer death and decided not to rewrite it. It got weird in how I decided it was more of a conscious swap over a soul/body swap and so Xander (who was in Willow) had to figure out how to do the spell to get them back to normal, and Dawn (who was in Spike) had to deal with not having a soul, or rather everyone else had to deal with her not having a soul, etc. I’m sure I’ve probably had weirder ideas, but if I can’t write something for whatever reason (like it being too weird) I typically just leave it be.

I did write a The World Ends TBBT fic, which I suppose can be seen as weird, but I think that has more to do with my love of post-apocalyptic stories. (I’ve written a lot of them, lol)

Less serious, but I don’t know how “weird” it is vs plotless and cliche and an utterly self-indulgent FDtD “fic” (it’s more of an exploration in What If) involving time travel that I’ve never written a single word of, letting it exist entirely in my head, but will also happily ramble away about because, like I said, its a very self-indulgent story and I’ve thought about it a lot.

Happy rambily mess that just skims over it while still being really long:

Post-series!Seth and Kate find themselves at the Dew Drop Inn inside the RV moments before a very human Richie comes in with a very human Scott at gun point. Confusion abounds all around and all seven of them, including past!Seth and past!Kate, end up traveling into Mexico with bickering and arguments and everyone’s confusion over how comfortable and familiar future!Seth and Kate are with each other, but Richie’s the one that notices his brother’s new tattoo and puts two and two together, which leads him to decide that he’s Making That Happen. Future!Seth immediately declares they are not going to the Twister and past!Seth does NOT react well to having anyone, even himself, barging in and trying to take charge and becomes a stubborn irrational bastard over it (they may come close to blows on several occasions). Richie and Scott have a bit of geek out over timelines and alternate realities, and future!Kate decides they still need to go to the Twister but she is going to do everything she can to protect her family.

Once at the Titty Twister they find future!Scott and future!Richie (because my brain went humans at the Inn and culebras at the Twister for semi-justifiable reasons), and a big debate begins on who is going in and who is staying in the RV, which is an entire scene that reveals a lot all around. (Jacob notices future!Kate and Scott’s reaction to seeing him and realize what it means that there’s no future him popping up.)

Before all hell breaks loose, things go a little different, with future!Seth sticking by Jacob’s side and past!Richie still playing matchmaker with his time’s Seth and Kate (no Richie and Kate kiss here, which I actually don’t mind in the show, but for some reason do end up getting rid of a lot in season one AUs. But it just makes sense that a Richie that’s trying to hook a girl up with his brother would not kiss said girl), etc. Once the culebras come out, things go much the same as they did the first time, only this time future!Scott rats out Tanner for being on Carlos’s payrole and future!Kate lets slip that he tried to sacrifice her after past!Kate says that he hit on her, and future!Seth decides the future doesn’t really need him anyways and shoots him.

Future!Seth insists he’s the one who’s going to go into the heart of the labyrinth after past!Richie (who still gets shot and bit, but he expects it this time) since he knows how to handle that shit, and since they don’t need to find Scott this time, the Fullers, Freddie, and past!Seth all end up in a different area that still shows them moments of truth/their past, but makes everyone else witness it too (because self-indulgence!) which gives a nice glimpse of the future and insights.

Meanwhile, future!Freddie left the Dew Drop Inn and is with his family trying to explain what’s about to happen to Margaret and fix his marriage before his past self fucks it up. Because Freddie/Margaret have my heart.

#asked and answered #fdtd #sethkate

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canonicallyanxious · 4 years ago

Note

12, 23, 34 and 35. pls answer as long as u need to!

thank you for the permission to ramble anon skjfnsknfs you genuinely have no idea how much i appreciate it

12. Tell us about a WIP you’re excited about.

sndfkjsdnfksd what wips... really though i’m finishing up my one actual wip [davenzi star wars au scream] today and once that’s done i’ll have basically no wips to speak of, wowowow! i can provide a small list of au ideas for kieutou i’m excited to tackle, though. ABSOLUTELY NO PROMISES any of these will ever see the light of day or that i’ll even get around to starting the drafting process for them but right now in the brainstorming phase they do live in my brain rent free

summer fling/romance au

high fantasy au - kieu my as a half-elf, fatou as a human bard

korrasami au

modern persuasion au

also my friend suggested doing some druck new gen spin-offs of the star wars au which, like, i’m not NOT thinking about tbqh

23. Do you prefer prompts and challenges, or completely independent ideas?

Honestly i struggle with prompts/challenges in a major way, idk it’s just a lot easier to motivate my writing brain with intrinsic motivation [e.g being really excited about an idea i came up with myself] than extrinsic motivation [e.g deadlines/prompts]. i am trying to be better about taking prompts, though! often the issue i have is with being excited about an idea that i didn’t come up with but if i can find a way to make the idea my own then i feel like that’s good practice anyway, especially for times when i don’t really have the energy for coming up with my own ideas but i still wanna write!

[as far as challenges go tho i mean i’ve tried a few in my time and all i have to say on the matter is: never again]

34. Copy and paste an excerpt you’re particularly fond of.

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm bold of you to assume i remember anything i have ever written skjdnfskdjnfsdkj anyway here’s a little bit from the most recent thing i posted bc i actually really like this bit of dialogue:

Fatou reaches into the pile of nail polish and pulls out a bottle filled to the brim with a deep crimson red.

“The color of your heart,” she says.

Kieu My looks up at her. “You think so?”

“Yeah,” Fatou says. “You picked the color of mine.”

Kieu My reaches out and closes Fatou’s fingers around the bottle, warmth of her palm resting lightly against her knuckles.

“You say such pretty things,” she says.

Fatou meets Kieu My’s eyes. “I only say things that are true.”

“Yeah,” Kieu My says, and smiles. “Same thing.”

35. Ramble about any fic-related thing you want!

I HAD A TIME DECIDING WHAT TO RAMBLE ABOUT in fact i legit couldn’t decide skjnfskdjfsnd so i had @boxesfullofthoughts give me a prompt and this is what they said I should talk about: “the use of themes in your work and what themes you feel resonate most with you and your audience.” So i guess i’m gonna ramble about that now!

So one big reason why i gravitate toward fic is because i think it’s a really great avenue for exploring relationship dynamics and development. obviously in a romantic context yes, but what especially interests me is the blurring of lines between friendship and romance, as those have always been pretty nebulous concepts for me personally. like how do you even define those things? where do you draw the line? what happens when that line grows blurry and indistinct? idk i find it kind of hard to explain but for me intimacy in romance is oftentimes very rooted in intimacy of friendship and that’s what i like to explore [i think a lot about a little life by hanya yanagihara which imo does an excellent job of delving into this concept, the romance of friendships; it’s definitely a story i draw a lot of inspiration from, which i think probably says a lot about who i am as a person lol]

and a very big part of love imo is well-encapsulated by that meme quote “if we want the rewards of being loved we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known”. which yes i know the original article is about someone judgmental attitude toward the writer’s goats or something but ALSO as i am the kind of person to take something very silly and make it incredibly serious i legitimately think this quote captures the heart of what i find so compelling about love stories! to be truly loved by someone is to be truly known by them - all the deepest, darkest, ugliest parts of you alongside the good. and that’s fucking hard! it’s hard work to allow someone to know you like that - to be that vulnerable, to really expose yourself to another human being. but also ultimately after all that difficult work what is more rewarding, what is more comforting than existing in the presence of someone you don’t have to explain yourself to because they already understand you wholly and completely, in a romantic or platonic context or otherwise? it’s something i love to unpack in my writing, like really there’s nothing i find more cathartic than really peeling back the layers and figuring out how two characters get to that point.

Another thing i think a lot about is a quote from a random tumblr post i no longer have the link for, which goes something like “tenderness is softness in the face of pain and shame”. and that is really IT, isn’t it? that’s exactly the kind of vibe i strive to capture in my writing always. particularly in the context of queer stories, when our community has had a long history of pain and suffering and repression and shame and yet despite all of that we still find ways to love each other, to take care of each other, to be ourselves and help each other be themselves too. that’s the kind of shit that drives me fucking insane! and it’s the kind of shit i love to write about. that’s all i can really say.

[is this still fic related? probably only tangentially. but this is the kind of shit i usually end up writing about on some level across all my fics so i think it still counts lol.]

q’s for fanfiction writers!

#Anonymous #answers

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xellshun · 4 years ago

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Feeding The Beast

I stand firm when supporting one of my favorite quotes: Evil is never born, it is created. All things were once good in the beginning, even Satan.

With the developement of my disorder and my descent into becoming a sociopath came many dark traits that I’ve used countless times to calm my urges and impulses. Most of them are fairly common among those with ASPD. But one quality has always stood above all the others.

My desire to victimize as many women as possible.

This post will focus on this trait rather than HOW it came to be but I will share a little bit of my past just to give you a general idea of it’s origins.

Over the course of the last 7 years I went through 3 very traumatic relationships. But before I did, I was a very kind hearted, ambitious, compassionate person with a huge dream of some day finding the love of my life, building a family, and living out the same fairy tale ending that my parents and their parents had before them. I had this perfect image of how my love life would work out and I based it off of what I watched my family build as I grew up. I grew up with a very close, caring, and loving family. So going into adulthood that’s just how I thought things were supposed to be.

I didn’t realize how fucking wrong I truly was and I was no where near prepared for the 7 year long nightmare I was about to go through...

The first of the three stages was when I lost my first true love - the mother of my beloved son. Not only did I loose her along with all my hopes and dreams of having that fairy tale ending. But I lost her while she was still pregnant with my son... So along with the initial pain, my first experience of pregnancy and my introduction to being a father were stripped from me and left me in a state of mind that pushed me into making my FIRST step down the dark I would eventually get lost in. She was what I would eventually call “The First Heartache”

The second stage happened with my next serious girlfriend. She would not only be my second love but would also end up being the girl who would eventually become extremely abusive. Physically, emotionally, mentally - she tortured me. She ultimately become what I called “The Abuser”

At this point, my disorder was born and rapidly growing. Coupled with emotional distress and a newly developed addiction to drugs and alcohol, my next relationship would only escalate the problems. She was a drinker, a drug user, and eventually a cheater. Her betrayal lead me down a path filled with an unending urge to stay intoxicated to cure the pain. And even though I should have left both her and the last girl, I didn’t. I was constantly trying to fill the void in my heart left by the first girl. But this third girl was no better than the last. She eventually became what I called “The Drunk Cheater”

By this point, my son was 5 years old. My relationship with him and my family was greatly damaged. I had come off my ADHD medication, struggled to stay employed, struggled with money, wrecked and totaled my vehicle, got into trouble with the law, did time in jail, struggled on and off with addiction to both drugs and alcohol, lost many of my friends... And above all else...

I lost myself...

And I forgot the feeling of remorse... Of empathy... And love...

The person I became and am now is the total opposite of who and what I was 7 years ago. Me then and me now wouldn’t even recognize each other if they met...

And thus, the sociopath was born... And within the dark pit of inhumane emotions, impulses, and urges.. The strongest one was my unending thirst for revenge...

And with that, the player mentality became supreme. And with it every aspect of my life would shift, change, and become centered around an unending cycle of chasing women. It started out as me just having fun and enjoying the single life and eventually evolved to what I do now.

So what do I do? For starters, I supress the monster underneath, I go out and I hunt women. I will often create several dating profiles, all of which with the same pictures, the same information about myself, and it has quickly turned into a game of seeing how many women I can sleep with in the shortest amount of time.

People would probably tell me “You sound like every other typical asshole player.” And it’s partially true, but in my mind I am a hunter. But I don’t hunt with the goal to kill (or hurt these women). I hunt with the goal of capturing and retaining them. I go out with my sociopathic mask, looking friendly, nice, and emotional. I play the part of a good honest man who just wants to settle down. For each individual girl I would learn her, everything about her, I would research her and read her like a book. I would figure out exactly what she wants and needs in a partner and I’d become that to the best of my ability. Once they are lured in I deceieve and manipulate every situation. Slowly and pateintly I shift the mood and create a large amount of sexual tension. I never come off as the creep, I never make them uncomfortable, and I always wait for THEM to make the first move. Why? Because it makes me feel powerful. And when we finally reach the point of having sex the sexual side of my sociopathic tendencies comes out. You see, I don’t care about finishing. It’s not what I look forward to and I don’t need to finish to be happy. The only thing that matters is HER pleasure. In those moments of intercourse I do everything in my physical ability to fuck them in every way they fantasize about. The porn star comes out and my one and only goal is to fuck them to the point where they are physically sore and trembling from orgasms. I want them to have issues walking the next day, I want to rearange their insides, and turn their intestines into soup. It almost never fails and this newly found dark skill has increased my body count from a pathetic 5 (my son’s mom) to a body count of 52 as of this last weekend.

But do I stop there and leave them in the dust? Hell no! I keep them around, I drag them around, and am constantly looking for new targets daily. I keep them around for many reasons - sex, money, drugs, alcohol, transportation, parties, new friends... And some times I’ll keep them around and create friendships with them so I always have someone to talk to or hang out with.

This way I am never bored and can always feed whatever hunger comes into my darkened heart...

I have done so many messed up things. Slept with more than one girl in a single day, slept with a new girl every day of the week, fucked a girl and then fucked her best friend. I’ve made women cheat on their boyfriends and then turned around and hung out with their boyfriends. I’ve made wives cheat on their poor unknowing husbands. Some would find out and their wives would leave them for me. Others would simply ask me to never mention it. Do I respect their wishes? Of course! Like I said. I never purposely treat any of these women poorly. I do this so that I can retain my image as a good and normal man. But more often than not, it’s the sex that makes them come back. I can’t tell you how many girls I’ve dicked down. I’ve been with all kinds of girls. Blondes, redheads, burnettes, thick girls, thin girls, small boobs, huge boobs, some who could be porn stars, some who were covered in tattoos and peircings, some were cam girls, some were strippers, some were partiers, drinkers, some were moms, some were church girls, some were younger, some were older... I think the only type of girl I have yet to be with is an Asian... Gunna have to change that...

I’ve been all over the place too. I can’t go to ANY surrounding town from where I live without knowing a girl I’ve fucked there. It’s hard enough when I’m out running errands too, can’t go fucking anywhere without the chance of seeing one of my victims.

All in all, it’s the thrill of the chase, it’s the thrill of knowing what lurks beneath the mask while they remain clueless, it’s the feeling of being so cold and heartless yet have the ability to bring them so many emotions I can’t feel, it’s about giving them the best sex of their lives, it’s about the satisfaction of leashing them along like pets, it’s about POWER and CONTROL. The two fucking things I had so little of when this all started during those 3 toxic and traumatizing relationships.

And in the deepest, darkest corners of my sick mind... In these many moments of deception and manipulation... I trick myself into believing that these poor girls I victimize are my exes.. In an attempt to feel some type or form of revenge to dowse the neverending burning fires of PURE HATRED that have turned my entire world into a place of devastation that is now just as dark as my heart...

For me, women as a whole, are my newly developed drug addiction. When I see them, I don’t see people, I see prey that I can use for whatever benefit I see fit. And if those benefits run out I simply take them to the slaughter house and use them one last time. Rejection doesn’t faze me either. If a single sheep manages to escape my fenced in prison it doesn’t bother me, the herde always consists of between 10-20 women at all times. It’s as easy as a simple hunting trip, which I honestly enjoy. After all, it’s always good to get out every once in a while.

This is what my life has turned into. A never ending sickening cycle of trying to fill in the void within my heart that they left behind those years ago. But in the end that ONE thing that can fill this whole is the one thing I avoid the most - Love...

Yes, my therapist knows about all of this. It’s great because my therapist is a female so it’s nice to be able to share my stories and brag to a girl who’s job is to help me. She probably thinks I’m a fucking piece of shit and I don’t blame her. But she’s a professional and has to help people like me.

We’ve discussed goals throughout therapy on ways for me to relearn the feelings of empathy, remorse, love, and so on... It’s one of many goals and this is the one I have the most trouble with... Part of me wants to change and go back to being normal. But the other part of me wants to keep doing what I do best because it’s just so much damn fun.

So will this part of me ever change? I think so. I hope so. The only other times I went from being a total man whore to a faithful loving man was every time a girl would come into my life who was strong enough to snap me out of dark ways... So far it’s only happened twice. My body count is at 52 and going up more quickly than ever. I’ve spoken to thousands of women, met hundreds, recieved thousands of numbers, thousands of X rated pictures and videos of these women, I’ve had sex thousands of times, and it’s getting to the point where these women just seem to blur together...

There’s little hope of finding a girl strong enough to pull me from the darkness this time. And honestly, I’m okay with it. I am at a point where the darkness is comforting and feels like home...

So this time around.. Not only does she need to be strong enough to pull me out... She needs to be brave enough to venture into a world of total darkness...

#sociopath #aspd #psychopath

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fightevilandthengetblownup · 4 years ago

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FIC: ‘Tis The Damn Season III

---

The slap of the base of her flip-flops against the bottom of her foot was mute under the sound of the music trilling through her ears while she lay out on the sun-warmed towel below her.

This was exactly the type of thing she never would have imagined during her life. When she was in the cold Winters of the European countryside, frozen ground baron and her stomach achingly empty. The wind would be knives of ice across her skin instead of the warm, salty breeze that blew through her hair now. The skies would be a grey, gnawing mouth denying the briefest glimpse of sunshine unlike the warm sun shining down on her now below a crystal blue sky. The sapphire blue ocean that stretched out before her was truly clear and beautiful compared to those plains of white. The girl who’s eyes drank in the sight as happily as she did was blessed to have grown up in such an area.

Though not with the same level of service, Ruby thought to herself as she raised a hand in the air and snapped her fingers in a sharp crack. Within a moment there was a cool glass placed at her finger tips and pulling the bamboo strawed drink down to enjoy the refreshing rum mojito, the demon smiled to herself as she could relax back. If dying twice was what it took to finally have her ideal life - or something like it - she wished she could have known that earlier.

Continuing to tap her foot in time with her music, the blonde sat her drink down before picking her notebook again. She might appear to be just writing a few ideas or working on some story, but the actual words were anything but. Detailed information, coded and recoded, translated and restranslated through several languages before the words would make any sense at all, on her darkest passages and some of the spells she was investigating at present that if anyone actually could understand the contents would make their hair curl. Just because it was the holidays didn’t mean the demon could stop working for her own happiness and freedom.

Sighing as a cloud crossed past the sun, Ruby let out a groan as the shadow didn’t seem to move after a moment. It took another minute for her to actually realise that it was the shadow of a person, and slipping her earbud out she growled pissily, “Hey, buddy, fucking move it.”

“Polite as always, darling.” The voice was completely unexpected but not unfamiliar, and slipping her sunglasses down her nose slightly, Ruby looked up in surprise to see a bemused smirk on the other being’s face. “Was I in your sun?”

“What do you think?” “Probably yes.” “Well then-” “Especially as I was in your sun.” “Mhmm…”

“Going to ask me to move nicely, gorgeous?” Gabriel quirked a brow up at her as he flung out a hand unseeingly and moved it back with a drink of his own in a wooden tiki glass, complete with vibrant umbrella and sticks of tropical fruit. “Or are you going to go for a little glare and pout today?”

It took another second as the blonde slipped her sunglasses on top of her head and titled her head assessing what options she had before waving a hand towards the empty sunbed beside herself.

“Perhaps the easier answer - sit your ass down if you want, pagan, or get out of my sunlight.” Ruby quipped back caustically, sliding her sunglasses off of her head and onto the small table between the chairs. “Do I even want to know what you’re doing in this neck of the woods this time of year?”

It didn’t surprise her to see the other move with a huffed laugh, before stretching out on the other sunbed with an ever present smile. Gabriel seemed far too at ease from what she could tell - the open shirt and tank top combination with the shorts and what looked to be truly horrendous blue and white flip-flops - and glancing around the way he melded in to the exact same style as every other man walking past along the sand felt hilariously in keeping.

“Well, you see, beautiful,” Gabe seemed to pause to himself for a moment as he leaned back into the other sunbed with a contented groan. Waving a hand about and another moment to himself for a sip of his drink, the flair for the dramatic wasn’t at all lost on Ruby as she tried not to let the corners of her lips twist in bemusement at the antics. “Why would I stay in North America or even more dismaly within the European areas when I could fly south for the winter and get an extra dose of summer?”

“A very good excuse, of course.” Ruby replied as she shuffled in her seat for a moment before letting out a sigh and shifting to lean on her hip facing the other rather than towards the umbrella above her. Chewing thoughtfully upon the end of her straw, she tilted her head thoughtfully before she eventually raised a manicured brow. “So - who are you avoiding up North?”

“Excuse me?” “A pretty story, sure, but which pagan got a bit too close to you, viking?” “I don’t know what you might be thinking-” “Of course not.”

“You really think you’ve got me pegged, don’t you Ruby.” The slight gravel in his voice caught her off guard for a moment as the crackle of electricity seemed to fill the humid air across the beach in waves. Looking over her shoulder, the blonde demon could see more than a handful of locals looking skywards - as if searching for gathering grey clouds that should have been there for such an atmospheric change but were nowhere to be seen in the bright blue sky above. Of course it suited the other to be here right then, where the air was thick like honey in the humidity and lent itself to the shifts of power that a trigger-happy anger response for such a powerful being could be. The unpredictability of the Queensland weather feeling in keeping with the new arrival. Gabriel’s jaw was set a little harder as she turned her face back to his, a darkness in his eyes that spoke to the little part of her that used to search out every weakness, every opening and every opportunity for manipulation that this was a dangerous game for a demon to be playing right there. “You think you can predict what I - the one who successfully impersonated one of the most famous Tricksters in the world for centuries - do and why?”

“Predict?” Ruby blinked her eyes as innocently as possible, wide-eyed and baleful, as she met his stare for a long hard moment.

She probably could predict his choice to flee to the southern hemisphere if she really tried. It was likely for the same reason she was as well. She could probably draw a conclusion right now, or follow her old tactics and slowly draw out his responses until she caught upon the right thread. She could probably just easily assume it was one of the normal troubles - family or romantic, given work didn’t quite cross her mind when thinking on what would ever trouble the carefree Pagan-playing man - and extrapolate from there. Ask who he was hiding from this time around. Which war or fight he didn’t want to be having that he flew the coop and found his feathered butt drawn to the warming sun and surf. Who he was trying to avoid the confrontation with as much as she was.

But that would be the old Ruby, she thought to herself with a small shake of her head. That was the Ruby that was all darkness and cruelty. The one that was the best and awesome and felt herself burning from the insides out as the blade ran right through her. That was even the Ruby that pressed a shoe against a poor innocent guy’s knee to force out from him that a woman made him happy. That was the Ruby that let herself get caught in deals she didn’t want to under the threat of yet another blade - one that would likely tear her apart that time - driven through her. That was the Ruby she’d swore not to be any more and was the one she’d left behind when she handed the bloody dagger into her fellow blonde’s hand with a smooth lie - the last one she intended to tell really. That wasn’t the new Ruby she was trying to be ever since she’d spotted the glowing warmth of a certain hunter’s existence into her world again.

Shaking her head again, Ruby glanced back towards him before batting her eyes more than a few times with the sweetest smile full of warmth and danger and daggers of white teeth as she looked back towards the far too serious look on the other’s face. “That’d suggest I know you any at all, Sir Loki-Like. I’d never dare to presume as much.”

“Really, madame, the cheek on you.” Gabriel had tilted his own head for a moment as he stared her down, and Ruby could see a tiny flash of that previous anger in the depths of his eyes before the good humor washed it away. The wicked smirk she got in return as the slightly electric feeling in the air faded back let her release a silent and invisible breath that had caught in her throat for a moment as the archangel arched a brow back at her in return. “Someone would think you’ve got a brain under that pretty blonde hair of yours.”

Ruby let out a responding laugh, tossing said hair over a shoulder for a second that would look flirtatious to any outsider and would be taken as such alongside a joke by the other. Shaking her head, she shrugged a shoulder before she finished the last of her drink and toyed with the straw. “Oh don’t go letting anyone know that there’s more to me than a pretty face, Gabe, or we both might just find ourselves in trouble.”

“Some very hot water-” “Exactly.” “Count me as mute then, gorgeous.”

The mutual grin of appreciation that both lounging beings sent one another was another point in Ruby’s mind for the disruption right now not being wholly unwelcome. Australia and the beach was fun and all, and time to herself to do some of her preferred focuses such as accumulating powerful defenses for herself and uncovering things others think too far hidden or too outlandish to be real was always a good time - but it did get dull being all on her own so much sometimes.

Last year she hadn’t been so alone. Her watching - that’s what it was, it wasn’t stalking, no matter what the object of her watching had to say about it - had paid off and she’d been able to spend a whole evening and night basking in a light even warmer and hotter and more fulfilling to the dark twisted thing that was her soul than even the sunlight above was. She had had a good Winter, especially when she’d managed a second full meal seated across from the long haired hunter, staring at the slopes of his cheeks and those honey speckled eyes that made her giddy. It had been a small space of time that she felt she could even possibly get close to something that was accepting company, but after the year she’d had since then - letting her secrets out and sharing what she probably shouldn’t’ve - Ruby’s winter had loomed cold and dark and as such the call of beaches and sunshine that might just maybe keep her warm like last year was the drawer. And yet alone on the sand and soaking in the suns rays was missing the good company to make it better.

As her mind whirled through her thoughts, Ruby found herself giving a long, deep sigh as she glanced across at the trickster looking at her with a mix of curiosity and bemusement as he finished off his own fruity drink. “Oh fuck…” Ruby mumbled to herself with a deep groan as she watched the other’s face break into a much much wider grin of amusement at her. Shaking her head, she rolled onto her back with another mute sigh, and then adding with a sideways glance. “So - what are we doing for dinner tonight, viking?”

The warm laugh she got in response as both of their drinks were refilled with a finger snap was answer enough for her that the presumption wasn’t wrong at all - if nothing else, she thought as she took a sip of her drink and reset her sunglasses back on her nose, she was going to have some excellent company again for a little while this year.

—

#cc #ca #rubypov

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fics-of-my-mind · 5 years ago

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Trust - Chapter VII.

'Nick, just leave me alone,' I said answering the phone. My voice was way too whiny for my liking.

'Talk to me, please,' he replied sounding tense and a bit worried. 'I know that I didn't have time to talk, since Priyanka interrupted us, but...'

'Yeah, and now that you have, do you expect me to just be on standby and jump into a conversation when you give me the honor of talking to me?!' I asked, my bitter self trying to push him as far away as possible.

'No, but...'

'I'm not just someone that you can go to whenever you feel like it, then don't give a shit about for days.' I know that I was overreacting, yet I couldn't stop myself. I was irritated and having period cramps and the two together didn't lead to any good.

'I'm sorry that I made you feel like that,' he said calmly, and I hated that only from hearing his voice I was already feeling calmer. 'I just couldn't get away, Priyanka knows that something is up.'

'And what is that?' I asked quietly, biting my lip. Not that I was in the mood for this conversation but we might as well did it now. 'What are we doing?'

He was quiet for a while. Then I could hear him sigh deeply.

'I don't know.' His voice was uneasy and unsure.

Warnings: mature content, BDSM content Pairing: Nick Jonas / Other Female Character This fanfiction can also be found on Wattpad by fnntth

I don’t own Nick Jonas or any other recognizable characters. This fanfiction is completely fictional, its only purpose is entertainment.

Chapter VII. - Play me your guitar, that song I love

Nick’s texts are bold

Milla’s texts are italic

'What have you been doing today?' Nick asked. We've been on the phone for the past twenty minutes, the mood between us extremely flirty and light. I guess that's what FaceTime sex does to you. I would've expected it to be awkward, but we weren't at that phase yet, I guess. We were avoiding talking about last night like real mature adults.

'Not much,' I shrugged. 'I've been fangirling,' I brought up the topic. Truth is, I wanted to talk to him about some recent discoveries I've made in the past few hours, just didn't know how to bring up the topic.

'Oh, really?' he asked cheekily. 'I thought as a great Jonas Brothers fan for life there is nothing new for you,' he noted, and I could almost see the conceited smirk on his face.

'There is barely anything about you that could surprise me, but...' I started, biting my lip.

'I'm not going to like this, am I?' Nick asked, his senses working perfectly.

'Probably no.' There was a pretty big chance that he is no going to like the topic, but after everything I've read on Tumblr and Wattpad for the past few hours – really, I could still be surprised of how easy it was to get lost in the sea of information and theories -, I needed to know what was true. 'Demi Lovato,' I said her name, having a feeling that he'd get the idea of my recent reads.

'I had a feeling you weren't just going to let that go,' he noted, sounding a bit frustrated. I didn't care. Nick knew almost everything about me and my life, it was only fair if I got to take a glance in his.

'Well, I mean, she is one of my teenage idols. I love her voice, I've loved her songs.'

'Yeah, so did I,' he sighed deeply. I imagine this must've been an uncomfortable topic for him, but wasn't the point of this whole 'friendship' to be open with each other? Most of the things I've told Nick made me very uncomfortable too, but I still did it.

'Something happened between you two,' I started.

'What do you think exactly happened between us?' he asked. I wasn't even surprised that he didn't just start to share the story right away, but rather made me tell him that I think went down. He could've just shot me down, saying that he wasn't going to talk about it, but for whatever reason he didn't. Maybe he presumed that if he wasn't going to share, I wasn't going to share either.

'You want to know how much the fans could see of it?' I asked. It was kind of interesting, talking with him about this. We got a basis of comparison about how much the outside world could actually guess about the events between two celebrities.

'I do,' he replied. 'I promise I'll tell you what actually happened, I'd just like to hear how the outside world perceived it.'

I could understand where he was coming from. This could give him an insight on how to do things if he actually wanted to keep his private life private. I felt so touched that he didn't even try to deny answering my question. I had no idea why he trusted me this much. I mean, yes, I've told him some of my deepest darkest fears and concerns, but I was a no one compared to him. My private life getting out in the open didn't matter, while his private life being leaked could lead to serious troubles. Not that I had any intention of betraying his trust, but the mere fact of Nick not being concerned about me selling him out, had me in awe. I don't think anyone has ever laid such trust in me.

'You and Demi were best friends. First your success as Jonas Brothers boosted hers, then after the band broke up, her success boosted your solo career. You did interviews together, mutually promoted each other, went on tour together.'

'Everything you've said is correct,' he replied carefully, waiting for me to continue.

'Somewhere along the line you started to have feelings for each other. You had the question whether or not ruining the friendship between you two was worth it, whether it could become something serious. I imagine you were the one that didn't want to risk it, since Demi wrote those songs about you.'

'I was,' he nodded. 'I'm not sure they were romantic feelings in the beginning anyway. Maybe it was just pure lust, I mean, we were both sexy, both single, maybe something just brought our attraction towards each other to the surface.'

'I think you were extremely annoyed about the songs,' I chuckled, continuing my presumptions. I loved those songs by the way, I always thought that Demi was an incredible artist and both Only Forever and Ruin The Friendship were amazing songs.

'Why would you think that?' he asked, sounding a bit amused.

'Because you're a control freak,' I shrugged. At this point of our acquaintance it wasn't an assumption, it was more of a fact. He didn't even try to deny it. 'And Demi just wrote a song with not only some hints, but your initials in the lyrics. Everybody knew it was about you, and, well, Ruin The Friendship was also kind of candid,' I explained. 'But I guess the songs did the trick in the end, didn't they?'

'I was so mad at her,' he said, reminiscing. 'I always tried to keep my personal life, most of my feelings under wraps, until at least I was sure of where things were going. Yet here comes Demi and tells the world about what was going on between us.'

'What is the 'you're only brave in the moonlight' thing about? Did you two sleep together earlier, or...?'

'No,' he replied instantly. 'But we did talk about crossing the line a few times, usually when we were both drained or tired or emotional and not thinking clearly.'

'So when did you two cross the line?' I asked, the fangirl in me being on her peak. This was amazing, I was getting details that I never thought I'd hear.

'Last night of tour,' Nick sighed. 'It would've been stupid to try anything until we had to constantly work together.'

'And what happened?' I continued the questioning. 'I mean, the girl was so clearly in love with you.' Not that I could blame her.

I didn't want to assume what exactly went down between them, I was hoping that Nick would tell me. Sure, I've read fan theories, even some fanfictions, but hearing the tale of two friends becoming more from the first hand seemed like the most reliable source.

'Yeah, she was.' His voice sounded sad, and I suddenly felt guilty from bringing up old scars just because I was curious. 'I wasn't. For me it turned out to be only lust and extremely deep love for my best friend. I'm not saying that it couldn't have worked, but... I was young and didn't think that a relationship I needed to work hard for, even if it was with someone as amazing as Demi was worth my time. I wanted to concentrate on my career and...' he stopped.

'And the friendship was ruined?' I guessed quietly. It was a sad story, something I really felt bad about.

'Exactly. We were stupid to ruin something great in our lives.'

'Did you try to fix it?'

'Sure. But Demi said she couldn't be my friend, that she needed time, then she started getting into bad crowds and using again, and...'

He didn't have to finish the story. Demi Lovato overdosed and almost died. The media was full of that story, and Demi was gone for a long time after that. I'm sure that there were parts that I could've asked about, like if Joe and his past relationship with Demi was a factor in all this, but I felt like this information was already much more that I could expect from Nick.

'I'm sorry,' I said. 'For asking, and bringing it up.'

'Don't apologize for wanting to get to know the real me, Milla,' he said quietly. He's said this countless times before, but I still felt like I was intruding in the private life he's worked so hard for to keep private. 'I don't apologize from asking about your life either.'

'It wasn't your fault, you know,' I said carefully, sensing that Nick was partly blaming himself for Demi's overdose. I mean, they were friends, then they did something stupid that they couldn't fix and the she almost died. I've known Nick for long enough to know that it couldn't be something that he took so lightly.

'Thank you, but—' his answer was suddenly cut into half, when another voice joined in our very private conversation.

'Nick? What are you doing? Why aren't you in bed?'

Even if I didn't know the voice, I could've guessed. It was Priyanka.

My heart instantly started racing faster, and my breath caught up in my throat. Nick was also startled, judging from his lack of answer for a minute.

'I'll be right there, Pri,' he said uneasily, his voice a trembling a little, before disconnecting the call without another word.

This was more than enough to make me feel like a dirty mistress, someone that could be just shaken off when the wife entered the scene. Nick's 'I'm so sorry' text a few seconds later didn't exactly help ease my thoughts.

We've barely talked the next day. Or the day after that. Or the day after that. It was all making me crazy and surprisingly sad.

So, I'm watching Camp Rock

I sent the text biting my lip. It was four days later and I had no idea where we stood. We went four days with not speaking more than some basic 'how was your day' texts and it was making me go crazy in my head. At least I've had work to take my mind off things, but it wasn't really helping.

After partly getting over the event of hearing Priyanka calling Nick to bed, my mind kept racing around that night. How aroused I was, how sexy Nick looked. How he had control over me, even though he was far, far away. How sensitive I was and what unknown things I've felt.

Not that I could fully let go of the wife thing. Feeling guilty was something I've never expected to come. Yet, as I kept thinking about Nick, about how much I wanted him, how he's been acting, the constant texts, phone calls, face times and opening up to each other, I couldn't help but feel guilt crawling into my bones.

He was married. Married to an amazing and beautiful woman. A woman loved by millions, fans shipping them all around the world. He's had a very public relationship, engagement and wedding to that woman. His family's welcomed her into their circle. Even though everything we've been doing seemed harmless, somehow I didn't feel like it was anymore. Not with sex being on the table, even if just as a conversation topic.

It clearly wasn't just a fan crush anymore. It started to turn into something real, with real things happening between us, even if just online, 6000 miles apart. I didn't know what to expect, what to hope, everything was making me feel crazy, especially the fact that we went days without a normal conversation.

I've missed his voice, his texts and it scared the shit out of me. I've never felt this about anyone, especially not someone like Nick. I don't know if it was the sex talk part of our relationship, or just the fact that for two months we were constantly connected to each other via our phones, but I missed him bad. So, I dug up my old fangirling ways and started watching one of the earliest programs I ever laid eyes on him: Camp Rock.

I or II?

You started to be hot in this one.

started to?

I know you hate to hear it, but Joe was hotter than you back then

He didn't answer for minutes and I just started thinking that I shouldn't have said that when my phone buzzed again.

the only thing that matters is I'm hotter now

been hotter ever since the band went on a hiatus

I smiled at him not saying that the Jonas Brothers ended, but putting it as if it was just a hiatus. I knew he blamed himself, it was clear from interviews, even though he tried to play it cool. Always said that at least he got the band back together. But whenever we've talked about it, I could feel his guilt that was still there.

I don't know about that

Joe was so hot in See No More

is this a hint to give you my brother's number so you can stalk him?

I rolled my eyes at him. Even though I'd probably go into fangirl mode if he sent me Joe's number, he wasn't the Jonas I wanted to be connected to.

Don't worry

that damn shirtless selfie made you hotter

C'mon, we all know which selfie I was talking about.

I'm glad

Okay.

His answers were kind of short and emotionless. It's like he didn't want to talk, or he tried to keep the texting as short as possible. Any other time I would've assumed that he was with Priyanka, but now, thanks to us barely talking for days and what happened between us a few nights ago, plus almost getting caught, my mind was heading towards darker places.

Maybe this was it.

Maybe this should be it.

Maybe this was all he wanted. Some fun with a girl he was never going to see again.

Maybe now that it was risky for us to talk, he didn't want to do it anymore.

I wasn't going to push myself on him – not that I could really. If he wanted to talk, he'd text or call me. Otherwise I had to try and let this go. Not that this was going anywhere. He had a wife. We lived 6000 miles away from each other. He was Nick Jonas. Our lives weren't compatible, not at all.

I was just some girl, someone he passed the time while he was closed in his own home. Getting to know a stranger, that was interesting for the both of us. Maybe we mutually used each other to keep our minds off the current situation.

Anyway, I was a winner in this situation. I've gotten to know the Nick Jonas, the man that I've been a fan of since I was twelve. I got to learn things. I also understood better now who he was. And it wasn't just the 'Nick Jonas factor', it was also the fact that I've been talking to Nick. Just Nick. A regular boy. An amazing person. It was so worth it, even if this is it.

My stomach clenched when thinking about this being the end.

I didn't want that, I've gotten used to having him talk to me.

We went another three days with barely texting, and I was already mourning the relationship we've never even really had. I was like this at times, overthinking, letting go of things way too suddenly. I just couldn't really handle the feelings I was experiencing.

Being on my period didn't really help the case. It made my bad mood a thousand times worse.

By the time the weekend came, I was curling into fetal position on my couch, wallowing in my self-pity and thinking about how I've never truly appreciated that this was happening between us. It was like a shock, all happened so quickly and I just had to go with the flow. I was really thinking about letting go of Nick completely, like being so over-dramatic and unfollowing him on Instagram, but I couldn't make myself hit the 'unfollow' button. And, really, it was too much.

I was watching Gossip Girl, trying to get some comfort in my pain – both emotional and physical. Maybe it was a little exaggeration, but I was actually in a lot of pain. I felt more alone than ever, I wanted this coronavirus situation to finally be over, I wanted to see my friends and I wanted Nick. I would've given anything for a chance to hug him, or even, just to see his pretty face.

Yet, the moment my phone's screen lit up with his name, notifying me of an incoming call, I hit the decline button. Two minutes later, when he was calling again, I just let it ring.

I was cranky, I was whiny, I was hurting, and as much as I missed Nick, I was mad at him for ignoring me for so long.

The third time, it was a FaceTime call that I decided to ignore.

are you ignoring me?

I opened the text but left it on read. I just didn't feel it in me to communicate with him in any way. Not in my period pain, or the tiredness of the week. Not when my mind was in dark places.

so yes

Came the next text.

I won't leave you alone until you talk to me

I knew it wasn't just an empty threat. Nick definitely was the person to always get what he wants. This made me angry.

Not in the mood, Nick

what's wrong?

I scoffed and turned the phone facing down.

Nothing should've been wrong, yet I felt like everything was. I was having opposite feelings, part of me dying to hear Nick's voice and feel a bit better, the other part wanting to ignore him and let him go before he got even closer to me. He was already way too close.

My mobile buzzed with a few more text messages that I didn't even read, before he was calling me again.

'Nick, just leave me alone,' I said answering the phone. My voice was way too whiny for my liking.

'Talk to me, please,' he replied sounding tense and a bit worried. 'I know that I didn't have time to talk, since Priyanka interrupted us, but...'

'No, but...'

'I'm sorry that I made you feel like that,' he said calmly, and I hated that only from hearing his voice I was already feeling calmer. 'I just couldn't get away, Priyanka knows that something is up.'

'And what is that?' I asked quietly, biting my lip. Not that I was in the mood for this conversation but we might as well did it now. 'What are we doing?'

He was quiet for a while. Then I could hear him sigh deeply.

'I don't know.' His voice was uneasy and unsure.

'I need an answer Nick,' I shook my head. Hormones were making me go crazy, so the next moment I was on the verge of tears. 'Is it just fun for you? Just making this whole quarantine shit go away faster? I...'

'No, of course not. You know that I'm not someone who just plays around with people,' he replied instantly, almost as if he was shocked that I'd even imply that he was just using this whole thing for fun. 'C'mon, I've told you things about me that I never told anyone.'

'Then wh—, you're married,' I said. Saying the word 'married' caused me to wince. 'Whatever this is, it isn't right.' We both knew it wasn't. Even if it just started off as innocent texting, getting to know each other, when the sex talks and constant flirting began, it stopped being harmless. 'Maybe we shouldn't talk anymore.' One teardrop made its way down my cheek.

'Don't say that,' Nick said quickly. 'You don't mean that.'

I stayed quiet. I really wanted to mean it, I should've. It would've been the right thing to do. I bit my bottom lip as more and more tears started following the first one.

'Tell me what's wrong,' he asked after a few minutes of silence on the line. His voice was deep, caring, and I almost felt better as he spoke the words.

'I'm just so... alone,. I've just realized how much, when you didn't have time to talk to me, I guess,' I shrugged, drying some of my tears off. These last few days showed me how lonely I exactly was. I felt stupid, not realizing it earlier that just because we were talking with Nick, he still wasn't with me. 'Whatever, Nick, I don't want to burden you with this, you have more important prob—'

'Hey, hey, hey,' he cut into my words. 'You are never burdening me, okay? I want to know how you're feeling. What you're feeling.'

'Lonely. And... guilty.'

'Don't,' he said, and I could almost see how frustrated he was. 'Out of the two of us, you shouldn't be the one to feel guilty.'

'Do you?' I asked in a small voice.

'Yes. All the time.' His voice was firm, hones, yet somehow sensitive. 'But I also feel happy when I'm talking to you. Free. Like I can finally breath. You're like coming up for fresh air after almost drowning.'

Words. He was good with them. And they were just what my sensitive and tired soul needed to hear.

'That's very poetic, Jonas,' I said sarcastically, with a tiny smile playing on my lips. 'Almost like you're a songwriter or something.' I could her a soft chuckle from the other end of the line, and it made my heart melt. 'You know what would make me feel better?'

'What?' he asked instantly, his voice so soft.

'If my favorite Jonas Brother sang to me,' I asked sheepishly. Honestly, I have no idea why I haven't asked him before.

'I knew I was your favorite.'

A/N: Thank you so much for your feedback on the last chapter! I’m so glad that I’m not the only person liking this story.

Please share your thoughts with me! Where do you think it is going? Do you like it?

#nick jonas fanfiction #nick jonas imagine #nick jonas fic #nick x reader #jonas brothers #jonas brothers fanfiction #jonas brothers imagine #fanfiction #Nick Jonas

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stachmousworld · 5 years ago

Text

Dear Dad, fuck you.

Pairing: Stuckony

Summary: My take on Civil War, but with less property damage and as much betrayal and drama.

TW: abuse both physical and verbal but not sexual (thank you Howard for your A+ parenting skills).

Ok, so you may cry and hate me at the end.

Also: This is the first installment of my universe A. The two others are:

Dear Dad, fuck you Punishments

27 MINUTES AND 32 SECONDS AFTER THE CIVIL WAR

Tony would have never guessed it would have ended like it did. Not in a million years would he have thought that his dead dad would be his demise. He was dead for fuck’s sake. He couldn’t beat Tony, nor verbally abuse him anymore. He wasn’t there physically, and yet he managed, from the grave, to shoot him in the soul. Literally. There were no other words to describe the way he felt.

He couldn’t breathe, his head felt loud and light at the same time, he couldn’t stand straight but sitting down made the earth spin faster, if that made any sense.

Eyes closed his thoughts spiraled out of the control and images. No. Memories of his dad stuck to his retina, giving Tony a full 3D experience, sound included. And eyes opened, reality dawned him: Steve and Bucky didn’t want him anymore.

You are a worthless piece of shit, that’s what you are.

I should have made your mom abort you.

I won’t pay for any ransom.

Why can’t you die?

Funny how when everything goes to shit, his dad is the first one he hears. Always. Tony was long used to his voice in his head, muttering death threats, insults, or influencing his suicidal thoughts.

Tony finally decided to sit on the couch.

“JARVIS, lights out”.

He flinched at the sudden darkness. His left eye twitched. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea, after all. He’d rather suffer under the artificial lights than…his breath quickened and his thoughts spiraled. He could feel hands on his shoulders. A fist to his left eye. A blow on his lower back. A sharp pain to his right wrist…

The lights suddenly went on. Tony gasped, body shivering from the phantom pain, the adrenaline forcing him to stay alive through all his tortures, while shock and uncertainty chained him close to reality.

Focus Tony. You can do it, whispered a soft motherly voice. He wailed at the sound of her voice. She was the only one he heard when everything went to shit. Not his mom or Ana, Edwin’s wife. No. Hers. He called her mammina even though Howard would have had a heart attack hearing him. She was a nurse, who used to take care of him every time he was kidnapped. All 7 times.

She was a middle age black woman, who had worked as their personal nurse in case of emergencies. She had given him more love in the first few months after his first kidnapping than both of his parents in years.

She’d smell like vanilla and cinnamon and talk softly. She’d always have a twinkle in her eyes every time she’d tell him a story. Tony used to be so thrilled to listen to her. Whatever the kind of story, whether it was fairytales or made-up ones from her life, he’d feel as if he was a part of it. She never made him feel worthless. She even learnt Italian for him, calling him her Tesorio, when he’d show her his grades reports and inventions, Cucciolo when Howard or Maria were missing his birthdays, and Luce dei miei Occhi, whenever she saw him.

If he’d been her light, she’d been his sun in the darkest night. He couldn’t recall one moment when he didn’t hear her voice calming him, cheering him, reassuring him. Even she wasn’t here physically, she was still in his head. Always.

Her death had hit him hard. Harder than his parents. Harder than the Jarvis. She had always been his pillar. His guide in life. He could recall a thousand proverbs, phrasing, advice for each different situation in life. She had prepared him for the real world, and yet, he somewhat felt like a failure. After her murder (she was shot while going to church), he had totally lost touch with reality. His parents had been dead for a few years by then and Jarvis and Ana for less than 2 years.

Tony should have been seen it coming. Everyone died because of him.

He went to the funeral and sat in the back of the church, feeling like an intruder. He had jumped to his feet a few minutes in the ceremony and tried to run out, when his mammina’s daughter, Celestia, intercepted him, calling him in front of the entire church, his name resonating in the holy building. He could still hear what she said, loud and clear.

“Tony, my baby brother. Mom wanted you with us, your brothers and sisters. Don’t run, please. Luce dei miei Occhi, come back to us.”

It only took a few words for him to feel the sun. The light he hadn’t expected to see again.

At the end, he found more than a mom, he had a family.

And every year he went to each of their birthday. He had[AB1] two baby siblings, two older brothers and one older sister, nieces, and nephews and even grandparents. They all accepted him for what he was and never used him, nor his money. They welcomed him when he was down, teaching him how to recover with love, a lot of talking and proof of fatherly/motherly love.

To say he’d been surprised, when he had to witness an “argument” between one of his nieces and her dad, would be a euphemism. He had feared the violence, the insults and other dismissal, but had been floored. They both had decided to go to their room for a few moments, the time to cool down and then talked in the living room in calmed voices. Not ones had he experienced an argument in his new family, even the most vocal ones, which didn’t end up calmly.

Never in his life had he seen a more functional family. More props to burn Howard’s grave.

“Sir,” JARVIS urged him.

Tony focused on his surroundings. DUM-E held a poisonous smoothie under his nose. How hadn’t seen him before?

“No, thanks, DUM-E”, he replied softly. “I feel a bit…nauseous”

DUM-E chirped sadly but moved away.

“Sir, are you all right?” JARVIS enquired worried.

“Yes, thank you, J’” Tony replied softly.

Tony stayed down for a moment. His breathing was back to normal and his migraine was gone. Maybe he should go to his bed and take a nap. He didn’t dare ask Jarvis for how long he’d been awake. He’d work on the prototypes later anyway.

He stood up, wobbling on his feet and made his way to the doors.

You should keep Cap’s name out of your mouth, Boy. He was worth ten of you.

He never was slacking; you should take example on him…not that you’d be able to reach his level anyway.

You may be a genius, but you still couldn’t free yourself. What are you, 9? 10? You’re old enough to get away from these clowns. Kidnapping? I call it attention seeking.

At your age, Steve fucking Rogers fought against bullies despite his asthma and scoliosis. What’s your excuse? Go back to work!

Tony tried to tune out the voice, but they kept getting louder.

“Stop!” He screamed panicked.

“Sir? Your heart rate is to high, do you need Dr. Banner?”

“No!” He exclaimed. “No,” he repeated softer. “I’m okay”.

Lies. JARVIS’s silence spoke volume.

“I’ll…Where are the capsicle couple?” he asked uncertain.

“On their floor. They had restricted the access.”

Tony ignored the tug in his heart.

“To whom?”

J’ took his time to reply. It didn’t comfort Tony at all.

“Only me, huh?”

Silence.

“If I had wanted you to be silent, I would have put you in a coffee machine, J’. But thanks for looking after me.”

“It is my duty and my honor to do so.”

Tony went back to the couch, took his clothes off, staying in underwear and laid down. The lights went down to a semi darkness.

“Where are the others?” Tony mumbled, half asleep.

“With the Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes, Sir.”

Tony snorted. J’ must be really mad at them to use their titles, he thought, dizzily. As he closed his eyes, he felt the embrace of his mommina and a kiss on his forehead.

DURING THE CIVIL WAR

Today was a good day, so Tony had thought. He wasn’t late in his projects, he signed contracts, surprising Pepper to silence (“No, I’m not going to die, again.” “Are you sure Tony?” Grunts in response.), he had even eaten his breakfast, lunch and snack. It was good day. Until Bucky came back to God knew where, dressed in a blue midnight suit. Steve was also wearing a suit. And by the look on their face, Tony believed he’d missed something and messed up already.

He probably had forgotten an anniversary. But even as he racked his brain he couldn’t think of a single anniversary. Christmas was in a few days and nothing remotely important happened in this month. Nothing worth being celebrated. So what?

“I’m sorry”, Tony said unsure. He didn’t even know why he was apologizing and couldn’t questioned J’. Glancing at the others, he could tell they knew about this “important” day. And what was it with the grim faces?

“Tony,” Steve called gently. “Are you not coming?”

“Where exactly are we supposed to go?” he asked in the same vulnerable voice. God, he hated that. The tension was torture. He half expected Clint to jump in front of him and admit it was a prank. No. Cap would never participate in this kind of activities. And Bucky had always expressed his resentment against suits and tuxedos in general.

“Tony” Bucky sighed. “The cemetery”

“Someone’s dead!” Tony exclaimed fear pumping in his veins. He looked sharply around trying to find clue. The others didn’t let anything show. Even Bruce who was bad a hiding his emotion.

“Stop joking, man,” Clint said calmly. “You can drop the mask. We are your friends too, you know. No one is going to judge you for mourning your parents.”

Tony’s laugh erupted. They…he…what now? He tried to stop himself as Steve’s frown went lower and lower and morphed into a disappointed face. Tony bit his lips and coughed for good measures.

“Tony, can’t you be serious?”, Natasha said coldly. “Have some respect. We know it is hard for you…”

“You know?” He failed containing his hysterical laugh. It kept bubbling and escaping is control.

“Yes, we know.” Bucky intervened. “He was not only your father, but our friends. One of our closest, actually. I…regretted more than anything murdering them. If I could…If I had been stronger…”

“Don’t Buck, it was not your fault,” Bruce reassured him. “There was nothing you could have done to prevent that.”

Tony laugh died somewhere between Buck’s guilt and regret. Tony’s right hand felt too heavy, hanging by his side. He crossed his arms to relieve the tension.

“I won’t go.” He stated firmly.

“Why?” Bucky asked with a small voice. “Is it because of me? Because I could stay in the-”

“No Bucky. If you can’t go, I won’t. But Tony, we’ve known Howard the longest. He was our closest friend, don’t do that. He had helped finding Bucky when he was tortured and helped me adapting to my new body. He provided us unique gears. He was there for us. He…he had respected me despite my small height, my sickness. He saw the soldier in me. He believed in me,” Steve pleaded.

Tony felt the glares from the others and shuffled on his feet. He resisted the need to give in.

Stark men are made of iron, but you are none that. I don’t know who your father is, but it is certainly not me. Always crying, complaining…(laughter)

Look what you made me do! Stopping the production of weapon to built this…(throws the object at Tony’s face). You should thank me on your knees, boy! No one would do that for a burden like you.

“It is not the problem, Bucky, Steve. It has nothing to do with their murder or your friendship. You can go, but I won’t. I wasn’t going to, anyway, so it doesn’t change anything.”

Silence. Tony’s eyes stayed fixed on his biggest “threat”, Steve. He was red, not the sexy, embarrassing kind. No. The ugly kind. Tony widen his stance preparing for the worst. Steve would not hit him. He was 100% sure. But his words had the same effect anyway.

“Can’t you be more respectful, Anthony. Some of us didn’t have the chance to live a lavish lifestyle with caring parents. I don’t even know where my ma’ and pa’ are buried,” Bucky deplored.

Et tu, Brutus? Tony’s head snapped toward Bucky. What the hell? And “Anthony”, really? Bucky’s face revealed discontent. His eyes were narrowed and he stood tall and strong.

“I beg you pardon, James” Tony hissed annoyed.

“Tony,” Steve warned him, inching to stand in front of Bucky. Tony’s eyebrow went so high he felt a strain in his left eyelid.

“What?!”

“After everything they’ve done for you (to you supplied mammina’s voice). And you couldn’t do that? Going to their grave and commemorating their lives should be the bare minimal. After all, if it wasn’t for them, you’d be (loved) nothing,” Bucky spat.

“No…nothing!” Tony spluttered indignantly. “They were never around me. I didn’t even call them mom or dad, they had always been Maria and Howard. They were never there for any of my birthdays, celebrations, school representations, not even the annual parents-teacher meeting. I. Made. Myself. I was born alone, and I’ll die too.” He ended up breathless. He hadn’t wanted to spill these details. Hell, he hadn’t even talk about the worse of it.

“All I heard was “poor rich Anthony Edward Stark, mommy and daddy worked too hard to make the Earth a better world for me”, “poor me, I seek attention…”

The rest of Bucky rant was lost. His father words came back in full circle.

Then Sunset’s words “you were always too much. Too needy. Always seeking attention”.

Tiberius “I don’t know what I’d done with this attention seeking whore. Really Anthony is only good when he opened his legs. I don’t see the genius in him.”

Obediah “God, Tony, lay low for a few months and seek help. Closing the weapon sector, but for what? My attention? You didn’t need that for me to care for you. Don’t be delusional, what would your father say?”

Maria “Anthony, stop, touching my dress, you’re ruining it. (She called someone behind the 3-year-old Tony.) Hey, you! Go take Anthony to his room and locked it. (She went back to her conversation). If I had known he’d be so clingy I’d have given him some sleeping pills in his baby bottle. (Laughter).”

Mammina “Tony, why are you so far from me, come nearer. You know you can always come to me. (Tony mumbles a few words). An attention seeker? Baby no, where did you hear these words? (Tony stayed silent) Cucciolo, I would never lie to you, you know that. You are the cutest little child ever, and I have 3 of them. You’ve met them and they absolutely love you. You are the perfect big brother, Tesorio.”

Tony closed his eyes, took a sharp breath and straightened his back.

“You can all call me by any name in the book: whore, worthless piece of shit...” Bucky flinched, panicked. He opened his mouth, but Tony kept going. “Warmonger, Merchant of Death, attention seeker --” He spat the name. “...but it wouldn’t change the fact that the person you knew as my biological father was a disgusting man, and my biological mother an air-head bint”. Tony approached slowly from the soldiers. He felt enraged. How could Bucky even say that? If he wasn’t so angry, he’d cry at the ice-cold words of his lover, but he was on a rampage. “I should actually thank you. Thanks Bucky dear, you made me a huge favor: to not be in the same world as them”, he finished with a deformed smiled. He knew he looked demented. And for the first time in a long time, he didn’t care.

Bucky’s expression went from guilty to confused. He pressed his left hand flat on Tony’s collarbone to push him away or hug him, Tony couldn’t tell. He brought his own hand on top of Bucky’s, moving the vibranium one to his neck. Immediately, Bucky backed off horrified.

“Was it with this hand you choked her to death? God, this stupid bint couldn’t shut up! How many times she drugged me, and put me to sleep, because I was “too attention seeking.” He screamed at the top of his lungs. Bucky stared at him with an unreadable expression. Tony may have lost his got damn mind, and he didn’t care at all. He strutted to the elevator facing them.

“Do you hear that Howard, you “made me” Tony cackled. “I’d blow your grave, if it wouldn’t give you satisfaction”. As he entered the elevator, belly cramped by his laugh, he yelled through his tears. “Burn to hell Howard and Maria! Burn…”

TEAM CAP

“What the hell was that?” Clint said in shock.

“Stark lost his goddamn mind, that’s what it was,” Natasha replied faintly surprised, which said something.

Bruce was the only one not saying anything. Tony’s act had reminded him of…himself. But, no…Howard could have never abused him. Bruce shook his head clearing his mind. No, Tony just acting as a spoiled child. A very insulting one.

“Should we go check on him?” Bruce asked with mixed feelings. Tony had the chance to have parents providing for them and he literally wish them hell. The Hulk pushed his walls. Bruce took a few deep breaths. Tiny tin man sad, Hulk repeated in his head. Bruce didn’t even try to explain the situation, Hulk wouldn’t understand the situation.

Bruce put his head in his hands. He could feel the headache creeping.

“No.” Stave said categorically. He had his Captain voice. “I don’t know who this man was, but I’m...” His voice broke. “...disgusted by this behavior. It was not our sweet Bambi,” Steve finished lamely.

Silence.

“I guess Natasha; you were right in your report on him,” Bucky commented defeated.

“And I was starting to believe that I had been mistaken,” she reflected disappointed.

“What are you doing to do?” Clint asked tired.

“What do you mean?” Bruce answered, head still down.

“Are you going to bench him? Because I don’t trust someone who could say that and act like a maniac. And what about your relationship? I know it’s not our business, but we are family. A fucked-up one, but still.”

Steve looked at Bucky and sighed. Bucky had this faraway look in his eyes. His left-hand twitching next to him. Whatever he’d say, he’d not be able to get out of the loop Tony had pushed him in. Steve massaged his own temples.

“Is it how you all feel?”.

Everyone raised their hand, even Bucky.

“Ok. He’s benched. I’ll tell him tonight at the dinner. As for our relationship…” He took a deep breath. “If we can’t trust him to have our backs on missions…” He left the rest unsaid.

“We’re coming with you!” Clint declared out of the sudden. The rest followed slowly, still under the effect of Tony’s outburst. “Give us 10 to change and we’ll meet you at the Quinjet or the car?”

“Quinjet. It’s quicker that way. They were buried upstate.” Steve answered quickly, as Bucky fled. Steve followed him worried. He waved at the rest of the group and entered the elevator, next to his lover.

“Do you think he is…ok? He looked like he’d do something crazy. And that laugh…” Bucky’s all body trembled.

Steve hugged him and kissed the crown of his head. Bucky went lax in his embrace. He sniffed a few times as Steve murmured sweet nonsense to his ears. It opened the gate for their tears. Steve didn’t want to end their relationship. Tony had been his home in this century, helping him and proving him wrong from left to right. But…he had to be strong for Bucky and, most importantly, the team. He resisted the need to go to the workshop, pounding on the tainted windows, and confront Tony.

It must be a big misunderstanding. It had to be.

Please Howard and Maria, forgive Tony, he found himself praying silently. He himself had wished for his dad to survive the war and his mom to see him become a man. Please God, let it be a big misunderstanding.

If Tony apologized tonight, Steve would take him back, no judgements. He’d be benched for a couple of days, but Steve would hold to him for as long he’d let him. The pain in his heart matched the distress in Bucky’s eyes.

“You know him, he probably is working to cool down. Anyway JARVIS is here to help him if he needs anything.”

“I would have never thought he’d blown up like that. I read the psychological report of Natasha but dismissed it. Tony had forgiven me and given me a new arm. He even went into a relationship with us. How couldn’t we that side of him?”

Steve shrugged. When he thought about it, Tony had never been particularly keen on talking about his parents. Jarvis and Ana, ok. At first, even Steve had thought they were his godparents, not the butler and his wife. And when Bucky told stories about Howard, Tony tended to shy away and changed the subject. Steve was now frowning. Something dark and ugly woke up in the pit of his mind.

“Well, I don’t know. At first, I thought he never liked talking about them because he missed them, but after what we’ve just witnessed, I’d say he really hates them.”

“Do you think they could have been more than distant parents? He said stuff about his mom drugging him and his dad being a monster. But Howard had never been like that, right Steve?” Bucky asked, guilt pouring in his voice.

Steve heard the rest of his questions loud and clear. Were we so blind that we inflicted emotional pain to our lover? And the most important, what if it was true? Steve couldn’t reconcile the image of Howard, sweet and joyful Howard, and the one from Tony’s memories. If Steve…he swallowed with difficulty. If he were to believe Tony, and a big part of him already did, because Tony had never seen so raw, begging for them to believe him through his rage, Steve would set the entire cemetery on fire.

So, he hugged Bucky tightly and tried to reassure him.

“Sweetheart, no. Don’t do that. You can’t guilt yourself for that. Even blinded by his anger, Tony didn’t blame you for their death. He was angry and lashed out. He would have done the same or worse if it was me.” Steve refused to talk about the thanks for their murder. What the hell, Tony! Steve thought anger flaring in his chest. It wasn’t fair for Bucky, his sweet love he shouldn’t have to relive his worst moments. They survived the Depression, war, ice/Hydra and they were still together. Has everything been a sham? They had given their life for a better future, putting their lives in their friends’ hands, who were supposed to hold the peace torch, when Steve and the other soldiers couldn’t anymore.

But, it also explained why Tony was so jagged, his control issues, lack of trust, insecurities, big mouth…

It wasn’t fair for him too, their Bambi…Steve contained his tears. The mere thought of little Tony being afraid, unsafe (Drugged, he said) and sad, made him sick and furious.

Steve deflated.

No, Howard couldn’t…he hadn’t…

“He thanked me…” Bucky said broken. He pushed Steve, bending and heaving. Steve massaged his neck slowly.

“He didn’t mean it, Babe. He wanted to rile us up. You’ve seen how hysterical he was…”

It took a few minutes for Bucky to come back to himself, and even then, his face had a greenish undertone. A fit despite the serum.

“JARVIS, could you tell us if Tony is not okay, please?”

The AI took a few moments to reply.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes.”

Bucky nodded silently, while Steve cringed. What a fucking day.

POST CIVIL WAR

Tony woke up at the sound of an alarm. He groaned and covered his head.

“Sir, the others are already here. They have prepared dinner and request your presence.”

“What are the odd I could charm my way out of this trap?” Tony asked sarcastically.

“Slim to none. Emphasis on the none.”

Tony laughed and stood up. His left eye was blurry, but alas, he didn’t have the time to fix it, as well as his hand, which gave him hell. Stark men are made of iron, he said out loud to give him more strength.

The voice of mammina replied full of wit. “Oh, really? I don’t know about the Stark men but my little Tesorio is made of love. No one can take love away from you. It makes you fly, melt, explode, you feel invincible. Once you love, Tonio, you could rule the world, and bend any types of iron. I love you, my Luce. I’m proud of you, no matter what.”

Tony wiped his tears. I hope you are still proud of me. As he entered the elevator, his phone rang. One of his little brothers.

“What do you want Darius?” Tony asked upfront.

“Listen, listen. Go on, talk to him” Darius replied in a hush tone.

“’Onc’ ‘Ony! Onc’ ‘Ony!”

Tony cooed and felt his inside melt. His baby nephew, Anthony, was just a few months old and already a beam of joy in his life. He had more pictures than he dared to admit. Sue him, his nephew was the cutest, with his little dimples and crooked smile. But then again, his other niece and nephew had him wrapped around their chubby fingers.

“Hello big boy, Oncle Tony is so proud of you!” He cooed in his “I’m going to melt inside and have cavities” voice.

“Do you imagine our surprise when his first words were ‘Ony and then Onc’ Ony’. I swear to God, we won’t invite you anymore. That’s the third baby doing that stuff. Are you sure you don’t have any magic, bro?”

Tony laughed through his happy tears.

“I guess I have some magic left from mammina”.

“True, true”, he conceded. “Are you still coming for the commemoration?”

“Of course! I have never missed one and wouldn’t dare. I don’t want mammina to haunt me and whoop my ass.” Tony joked.

“Pfff. She’d never do that. You were always her favorite, didn’t know why. We knew she worked for a white and rich family (Tony rolled his eyes amused), and then we saw your scrawny ass and lost puppy eyes. Couldn’t resist this kid who needed to be our protector, even though, he was pocket size.”

“Hey! Although I liked the beginning of your story, the wording could be better. I never was pocketsize; we call it fun size.” He pouted.

“Who? The members of your “fun size” group”.

Tony grunted. Darius laughed and bid him goodbye in a hurry. Apparently, his nephew had taken his diaper off and was smearing poop on the white walls. Tony’s laugh resonated in the stilled elevator. J’ opened the doors as he placed the phone in his pocket.

The sight in front of him made him frown. He prepared himself to stay calm and have a mature conclusion to their arguments like he’d seen with his siblings. Mammina’s advice about love was about to come handy. They at least deserve the truth and some apologies. Hearing them talk about his parents so fondly had made him angry, jealous, then sad. Why was he not enough? Could he have done better, be a more obedient child… no. He wouldn’t go there. He had to stay clear-headed.

Steve and Bucky had changed clothes. They were now wearing hoodies and joggings. Their comfort clothes. Like him. He had found Steve’s hoodie and Bucky’s jogging, in one of his private stashes. He would deny taken them and some other of their items because it soothed him.

This was going to be long. He took a deep breath as he walked towards the kitchen. The rest of the team were standing up around the table.

Steve went on Tony’s left and Bucky next to Steve. Tony stared at them sadly. The fluffy conversation with Darius seemed like years ago.

“You had fun on the phone,” Clint noticed calmly. Almost too much. It was such a 180 with his jerk personality.

“It’s not every day that you nephew’s first words are “Onc’ Ony”. Well, the two others did the same. So, I was kinda happy.”

“Lying Stark? You don’t have no family left,” Natasha accused him, eyes narrowed.

“So, family is only the people from your blood, got it.” Tony replied without showing any annoyance. He took his phone, scrolled down a few family pictures and showed them one, where his papà was still alive. Before cancer took him.

He introduced each member, referring them as his baby brothers or older ones. His finger trembled as he reached the head of the family. Mammina and Papà. A little Tony could be seen standing proudly next to two smaller kids.

“It was my mammina.” He explained softly. “She was the best woman in the world. She took care of me when I got kidnapped. She was always here to help me, heal me. She built me.” He threw a glance at Bucky, who was frowning.

“Kidnapping?” Bruce asked in disbelief.

“Tony…Why would they kidnap you?” Steve asked, as skeptical as Bruce.

“I’m a genius. I was the one proofing Howard’s blueprint. By the age of 7, I had improved one of his Jericho. But people kidnapped me because of money. They thought Howard would pay them. He never did. (Tony raised a hand to cut the protestations.) J’ will send you all the medical reports and police ones. He will also forward my file from CPS. I know it’s hard to believe it. He was your friend and never showed his other side. When you both went down, he died too. He became…” Tony choked on his words.

“How can we believe you, when you were so maniac, this afternoon? You hurt Bucky and used his guilt to make a point.” Natasha asked, arms crossed.

“If you don’t believe the official papers, you should ask Coulson and Fury. They won’t lie to you.”

“What?” Bruce blurted.

“What do you mean?” Bucky asked concerned.

“I don’t have the envy, nor the will to go through the verbal and physical abuse of my parents. Coulson and Fury were there to retrieve me from Shield office after each kidnapping. They couldn’t do anything because my dad financed the entire organization,” Tony explained bitter. “Call me selfish but this woman and this man (he showed mammina and papà), were my real parents and those are my brothers and sisters, grandparents…They are MY family. They chose me when my real parents didn’t.”

The room grew silent. Tony tap his left eye and groaned in pain.

“Are you okay, Tony?” Bruce inquired, with a certain unease.

He waved at Bruce, brushing his concern. Gosh, it itched. Fuck it, they already knew too much already. With his right index, he pressed firmly his temple and with his thumb pressed the corner of his eye. He felt the prosthetic pop out, disconnecting from the electronical socket linked to his brain. After all these times, he still felt proud of himself. He had succeeded in something his dad could have never.

Everyone can create a missile Howard, but it takes a genius to create something so complex connected to the brain.

“Tony!”

Bruce’s voice bloomed in the room.

“The fuck!” Clint swore.

“Bambi?”

Tony finally paid attention to his surroundings. The lack of pressure on his socket almost made him come. If only he had his cotton swab and alcohol. He gritted his teeth to recede his pleasure. It wasn’t the right time to be distracted.

He turned blindly on his left and bumped against a wall. A human one. Tony raised his head and met Steve’s blurry ones.

“We are so sorry Tony. We didn’t know. It certainly explained why you didn’t want to talk about them.”

Tony frowned. They believed him, like that.

“Don’t you want to read the files, before trusting me?” He asked with a small voice.

Bucky shook his head.

“No, Doll. If you want, you’ll talk to us about it, but we won’t read anything. We trust you. Like you trusted me with my issues.”

Tony was left speechless. He had expected screams, fat tears and a few blows. It was anticlimactic at best. He tried to remember what Darius had told him about reconciliation. Now was his time to “apologize”.

“Ok. Ok. I have some apologies to say.” He held his hand to stop them, from interrupting him. “I should have talked to you frankly. If we had discussed about them, none of that would have happened. I should have understood that the people they were with you and with me were totally different. You’ve known them as your friends. And you wanted to visit your friends and not them as my parents.”

“That’s stupid, Bambi, and you know it. If we’d known what they did to you, we would have been pissed, and maybe broke a tombstone or two.”

“Steve!” Tony screamed flabbergasted. He glanced at Bucky who shrugged smugly.

“I told you he was a little punk.”

Steve didn’t even resent this affirmation. He was smirking (SMIRKING) proudly.

“So…you are okay?”

Clint looked so out of it. Natasha didn’t look like she really believed Tony. As if pulling his own eye wasn’t proof enough.

“What Clint meant, is that we still don’t trust you, Stark. And we had decided to bench you.”.

Tony step back, eye going from each of them to stop on Steve’s pleading ones.

“What?”

“We weren’t sur you were ok. What you said without context scared us.”

Tony’s left hand flew to his neck as a reassuring gesture. He massaged the place under his jaw. Bucky made a strangled noise, making him stop.

“I’m sorry, Bucky. I should have never done that and sorry for thanking you. Even though, I am still relieved they are dead. I wished it wouldn’t have been by your hands.” Tony apologized ashamed; face pinched in a pained grimace. He sighed deeply. “I understand all of your concern and I…would stay out until you deem me worthy.”

Bucky surged forward pushing a frozen Steve. He grabbed Tony’s face, pressing their foreheads together.

“You. Are. Not. Worthless” Bucky said through clenched teeth. “I don’t care what Howard or Maria said to you, but you are definitely not worthless.” Tony couldn’t avert his eyes and felt compelled to spill more truths, Howards truths.

“You should keep Cap’s name out of your mouth, Boy. He was worth ten of you.” He mumbled eyes now closed. He couldn’t handle to see the pity in those baby blue.

Steve gasped audibly. Bucky’s hand gripped tightly his face, pleading him to stop.

“Cap and Sarge were never slacking; you should take example on them…not that you’d be able to reach their level, anyway.”

Bucky’s breath hitched. Tony felt two additional arms around him.

“You may be a genius, but you still couldn’t free yourself. What are you, 9? 10? You’re old enough to get away from these clowns. Kidnapping? I call it attention seeking.”

Bucky stepped away, breathing loudly. You have done it, Tones, they are going to leave you. They’ll see that you are not good enough and leave you, he thought darkly.

“Buck!”

“Bruce”

Tony opened his eyes just in time to witness Bucky breaking his kitchen counter and Bruce’s departure. Clint and Natasha went after Bruce, leaving them all alone. What the hell just happened! Steve walked carefully to Bucky. He looked wildly around him, in defensive posture. Steve’s hands were raised in front of him.

“Bucky, everything is ok. There is no threat.”

“Tony,” he replied miserably before breaking down. He sobbed in Steve’s arms, eyes locked on Tony. He raised an arm to make it come. Anthony E. Stark would have deflected and made a run for it, then hid in his workshop, but Tesorio raised by his fierce mama sucked it up and approached. Steve let go of Bucky and embraced them both, crushing them both into his chest.

Tony hissed in pain. Steve backed away.

“What is wrong? Did we hurt you?”

Tony shook his head. His right wrist was, again, acting up. He should have never slept on it. He massaged his wrist firmly and waited for a little whirling sound.

Immediately, the servos in the socket released the prosthetic. Tony moaned as the pinched nerve in his human upper wrist relaxed. He held his right hand with his flesh one, as he kept massaging the injured one.

“J’, pull up the blueprint for the latest version of Dub 4 and add a note to look for any rust. And also contact Dr. Cho, for my usual appointment.”

“Done, Sir.”

“Thanks.”

Still in his thought, it took him more time to notice the heavy silence.

Oh.

Steve was again in his personal space, Bucky on his right. They both eyed him with awe and sadness.

“I was 7, my third kidnapping. They wanted me to build something or were mad at my dad for not coming nor paying them. Knowing I was a genius they had the brilliant idea to extract my eye. I was unconscious. I guess.” Tony explained while massaging under the eye pocket. “The hand came before I went to MIT. I had already won multiple engineering /robotic prizes. They had wanted me to build a missile, the first one. Guess Obediah was already dealing under the table. When I didn’t want, they severed my hand. I was conscious.” Tony stated numb. He hated thinking of his past defenseless self. He wished he could hug and protect his younger self.

Bucky pushed Steve aside and scooped Tony in his arms. He squealed but didn’t try to escape for once. Steve followed them briskly.

Once in their room, Bucky laid him in the middle of the bed and hugged him. Sweet nonsense pouring out of his mouth. Tony tried to ask Steve for help, but he joined them and did the same. Tony closed his eyes, fighting his weaker side.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

His persona broke piece by piece.

“I want my mammina,” he cried loudly, tears rolling down his cheeks. He missed her warmth, her smile, her scent. She should have been here instead of him. He destroyed so many lives building weapons while she was killed by them. Mammina, forgive me, please, he prayed in his heart.

“We know, Doll”

“We are sorry, Bambi”

“We’ll make it up for you”

“We love you”

Bucky’s strong body in front of him prevented him from curling on himself. He placed his head his heart, as Steve pressed his body in his back.

Soft kisses made him relaxed. She used to do that when he had nightmares, kissing his demons away.

“I ‘ove you, too” He confessed softly.

“Tell us about them, your family.”

When I was 3, I met this nurse. She was…

Notes: Two baby siblings one his Kareem, Ahmaud.

Two older brothers Darius, Joseph

One older sister Janice

Mother masterrliiiisssstt ✨✨✨🐱‍🏍

#part 1 of many #stuckony #tony stark #writing #marvel mcu #mcu #character of color #bucky barnes #steve rogers #bucky x steve x tony #tw child abuse #child abuse #angst with a hopeful ending #black woman #adoptee #family adoptive #black woman character #black characters

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