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sleeping-on-cracking-ice · 4 years ago

Note

omg I love your work very much! You write really great and it's a pleasure to read you. I have a small request, if it's possible. I've never read this before so why write a one-shot (or series?) with a reader pregnant with chishiya ? (pleassse) With this news, it becomes extremely protective with the reader. Thank you so much !!

Yeah sure! Here you go! ❤

Trying My Best | Shuntaro Chishiya

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

{Main Masterlist}

Character(s): Chishiya (ft. Ann, OC)

Summary: You tell Chishiya that you’re pregnant and his change in behaviour from the news is hard not to notice

Warnings: accidental pregnancy, murder, swearing, graphic violence (guns), heavy angst, vomiting, panicking, blood

Word Count: 3.3k

*reader is female

Chishiya gif credit

“Chishiya, I think I’m pregnant.”

The statement hit the young man like a thousand knives. He stood up on the roof of the hotel, the moon reflecting off his glowing skin. You stared at his side profile, waiting for his reaction to the news, but he merely sighed and tucked a piece of his bleached hair behind his ears. “How do you know?”

“I’ve been throwing up a lot, without even feeling nauseated at first. It just suddenly hits and I have to run to the bathroom,” you began listing your symptoms to back your claim. “I also have been a lot more tired, going to bed super early and waking up super late. As well as my period hasn’t come yet, and it’s been a week since it was due.”

You still kept your eyes on Chishiya, trying to figure out how he was feeling. His emotions hardly ever come through his body language. He seemed too calm for your liking, but you couldn’t exactly tell because you weren’t able to see his eyes.

“It is mine?” he asked, turning to you with a serious expression. Your eyes widened in shock. “Whose else would it be Chishiya?” you exclaimed, shoving his shoulder in disbelief.

Chishiya smirked and looked away from you again. “Just making sure.”

“Do you want to keep it?”

The question took Chishiya off guard. “That’s not my choice to make,” he said.

“Yeah but if it were?” you pressed, sliding along the railing until your sides were touching. Chishiya went quiet for a few minutes, thinking about his answer. “I would hate to bring a baby into this world if I’m being totally honest,” he started. “But it’s not like we have a choice.”

You nodded and laid your head on his shoulder, feeling safe and sound against his warmth and scent. He laid his cheek on top of your head and sighed heavily.

“What are we going to do Chishiya? We’re too young to be parents, let alone in a world like this.” You felt your eyes start to water but tried your best to hold in your cries. You were terrified. Not only would you have to go through nine months of pregnancy, you would also have to play games in order to keep your visa valid.

“Hey,” you heard Chishiya say. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll push through this together. And I’ll make sure I’m here with you every step of the way.”

His words made you smile sadly, and droop your head down into your hands. You cried softly as Chishiya rubbed your back in a comforting manner.

It would be tough, impossible even. But the both of you had each other, and that’s all you needed to push through.

***********

Ever since that evening on the roof with Chishiya when you told him about the baby, he had acted strangely since.

He had lost his cocky and smug personality, being replaced by a cautious and anxious type of behaviour. You began to feel worried about him, because it was so out of character.

It didn’t go unnoticed by other members of The Beach either. Although you hadn’t told anyone else about the news (wanting to keep it between you and Chishiya), you found yourself being confronted by a lot of people asking if Chishiya was okay.

Ann mentioned that during a meeting he rushed out suddenly, not even stopping to say where he was going or why. You reassured her that he was fine, and that the stress of the games may have just started getting to his head a bit.

It was like you were suddenly dating a whole different person. There wasn’t a moment where he wasn’t by your side, always asking if you needed anything or that you were okay. He’d refuse to let you do the smallest of things, liking lifting heavy objects or even dancing in the crowd at night. There were times you would have to reason with him and remind him that you weren’t helpless, and you were basically only a few weeks pregnant, and he was acting like you were eight months. He always shrugged it off though and argued back that he just felt overwhelmed, so he wanted to try his best to be the best partner he could be during the stressful time.

But when push came to shove and you had to participate in games to renew your visa, Chishiya always insisted that he went with you. Even if you said no and tried to convince him that you would be fine, he refused to listen. You didn’t have a chance when trying to reason with his stubbornness.

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

You had decided to participate in a game a few days earlier than when your visa would expire so you wouldn’t have the stress of having to rush to one on the night it expired. As well as you had been feeling okay for the past few hours and you didn’t want to lose the opportunity of clearing a game when you were at your best instead of being forced to play one on one of your worse days.

When you told Chishiya your plan, you ended up having a small argument. Chishiya thought it was unreasonable for you to put yourself in danger when it could be prevented, as well as he felt anxious due to you not being able to perform to the best of your ability because you were holding your child.

But after you both calmed down after realizing that arguing would get you nowhere, you both decided to go to the game that night, as long as Chishiya was able to come with you.

The game was simple enough. It was a six of clubs. Each player had to find an area of the building to stay put in no more than groups of three. You were able to move around these small areas, but once the game started and you were inside one, you were not permitted to leave your area. There were four seekers, each with a different animal mask on their heads. Each area in the building also represented one of the seeker’s animals. The goal was to kill the seeker that had the animal corresponding to your area. So the players would have to create a way to lure the seeker’s to their position, but if they lure the wrong one, they would have to hide until they left.

To clear the game, players would have to kill all four of the seekers. But if they failed to do so in the time limit, flames would emerge from the ground of all areas, killing all the remaining players.

In the registration room, Chishiya kept a firm grip on your arm, making you stay close to him. There were two tables, one holding the usual phones for the players, but the other was covered with a variety of hand-held weapons, scattered across the top of it.

Chishiya strolled over to the weapon table and scanned the dangerous objects. He reached to a moderately sized blade and felt it in his hand before turning to you and holding it out, wanting you to take it.

“Here, you have this one. If we happen to get separated and you come across one of the seekers, give them a short jab to the throat with this. I have my taser to defend me.”

“We won’t get separated, we have designated areas.”

Chishiya looked directly in your eyes and sighed, placing a hand on your head. “You know what I mean.”

You hung your head low. He was meaning if he was to die. “Don’t you dare die on me now Chishiya. If you do anything reckless, you bet your stupid ass I will make sure you survive this game just so I can kill you later.”

Chishiya chuckled at your threat, allowing you to see his shiny teeth in a smile. He knew that if there would be a point that you were in any kind of potential danger, he would throw himself in front of you. His life wasn’t worth as much as yours or his child’s, to him at least.

Around ten minutes later, you both sat in a dark room that had a large painting of a wedge-tailed eagle across one of the walls. You both already assumed that was the seeker you were trying to attract. You came up with the plan to wait a short while before starting to attract the eagle’s attention, because then other people may have already killed their seeker, making it less of a chance for a different animal to come find you.

You both sat in silence on the uncomfortable couch that had springs and stuffing pouring out of it. It was the only piece of furniture in the room, so there wasn’t really anywhere else to wait.

You groaned as a short stab of pain shot through your lower abdomen, making Chishiya snap his head to you and place a soft hand over your arm that held your stomach area. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

You waved your hand in front of you. “It’s fine, just a cramp.”

Chishiya sighed in relief and rubbed your back soothingly. You swore you could hear his heartbeat through his chest, thumping against his ribcage rapidly. He was terrified, but he sure knew how to hide it from you.

You both sat in silent together, your head leaning against Chishiya’s chest as he stroked your head softly, trying to keep your nerves down. “How are we going to keep this up Chishiya?” you asked out of the blue. Chishiya hummed in acknowledgement. “I don’t know, we’ll just take one step at a time.”

The situation was overwhelming for you. With the mix of the fear of dying, your stomach cramps, Chishiya’s comforting voice and the eerie atmosphere, you couldn’t help but feel tears of stress start developing in your eyes. Before you could even get the chance to wipe them away, a sudden sob erupted from your throat, making you cover your mouth and push your face further into Chishiya’s chest.

“Aw no, don’t cry,” Chishiya cooed, wrapping his arms around your torso and holding you close. “We’re going to be fine. Trust me,” Chishiya pulled back and held your teary face in his palms. “As long as I’m here, nothing’s going to hurt you.”

You smiled at his promise, leaning into his touch on your cheek, making his face glow slightly pink.

As you and Chishiya stayed huddled close together and spoke in whispered tones, you froze as you began to hear a small noise just outside the door of the room.

Chishiya didn’t seem to hear it, and he kept talking. “Shh!” you said, cutting him off. He frowned at you and followed your gaze to the large, grey door that stood opposite to your position on the couch.

Silence filled the air as you both tried hard to listen. The tension in the room was making you almost suffocate.

“I think there’s someone outside.” you stated, standing up from your position and slowly beginning to shuffle along the floor towards the door. But Chishiya rushed after you and pulled you back before your hand could touch the door handle.

“What are you doing?!” he whisper-yelled, turning you towards him by moving your shoulders. You blinked at him, confused. “What do you mean? We need to kill it!”

“But we don’t know if it’s the eagle or not. It’s better if we hide until we’re sure it’s the one we have to kill.”

“We haven’t got time! We have less than five minutes to finish the game, so the chance of the eagle being the only one left is quite likely.”

“You don’t know that. And we aren’t even sure whether they carry weapons or not. It’s too high of a risk, and I’m not letting you put yourself in danger like that, especially when you’re pregnant with our child.”

“For fucks sake Chishiya! I’m not defenseless!”

Your yells became louder and louder with each argumentative statement, which eventually gave away your position to the seeker that stood just outside the door.

Just as you were about to rip away from Chishiya’s grip on your shoulder when you heard the large door creak open. You both turned around abruptly at the sound and laid on your eyes on a tall figure with an eagle mask covering his face. In his hand he held a small machine gun, making Chishiya’s stomach drop at the sight of it.

“Y/N!”

He grabbed your shoulders once again as you stood there in shock, not being able to move. Chishiya yelled as he pulled you roughly further into the room towards another small door that led to a closet. A few rounds of bullets shot around the room, illuminating the small space for a few short milliseconds and making the both of you develop a piercing ringing noise in your ears.

Chishiya pulled you against him as you struggled, pushing you against the wall with him in front of you, shielding you from the seeker. As he did so, he ripped the small closet door open beside you and shoved you inside, panicking and trying to get you to safety as soon as possible.

You fell to the floor of the closet, a small groan leaving your mouth as you hit the ground harshly. You were about to stand up again to push yourself out to help Chishiya, but he kicked you down before you had the chance. Your eyes landed on his, filled with frustration, but they softened as they saw the waterfalls cascading down his face.

“Please,” he choked out, putting the door behind him so the seeker can’t shoot him from the back. “For once in your life just listen to me and stay in here. Please don’t come out.”

That’s all he said before he stepped around the closet door and slammed it shut. The absolute fear and sadness on his face was burnt into your mind. You had never seen Chishiya hold such dreadful emotion on his features. It made you feel awfully guilty for picking a fight with him.

You finally came to your senses, the ringing in your ears faded and the gunshots just outside the door made your head spin. You sobbed and covered your ears with your hands, trying to block out the sounds. Your stomach churned and groaned, and you suddenly felt the urge to throw up.

You lunged forward from your sitting position on the floor and emptied the contents of your stomach on the tiled ground, coughing and gagging on the putrid smell and taste of it in your mouth.

“Fuck,” you mumbled out, rubbing your eyes to clear the tears dripping from them.

Something shifted in the pocket of your jeans, making you turn your head and place a hand over the object. Reaching in, you hissed as a sharp blade slightly cut your finger. You pulled it out gently and held it in front of you.

It was the blade Chishiya gave you at the start of the game.

“I can’t abandon him. My last words to him can’t be an argument,” you rasped out, putting a hand to your chest to recover your breathing. “I’m not going to let him die. He can’t escape being a father that easily.”

Slowly you lifted yourself up onto your feet, using the shelves in the closet as leverage. You shuffled towards the door, holding your blade out in front of you, ready to attack if you needed. You weren’t thinking straight, at that moment you didn’t even think about the fact that the seeker had a gun, all you could think about was Chishiya.

You slowly pressed down on the door handle, opening it carefully in case the seeker was still in the room. It was back to it’s darkness, making your heart drop lower.

You stepped out around the door. It was eerily quiet, making you become anxious. Something must have happened. It wouldn’t be this quiet if Chishiya and the seeker were still fighting.

A sudden wet feeling on your foot broke you from your thoughts and you glanced down to see a dark liquid seeping into your shoe. You leaned down to look at it more closely, noticing how a strong metallic smell filled your nostrils as you did so.

It was blood, but whose blood was it?

Your breathing began to quicken as you started panicking. It was a large puddle, there was no way Chishiya would survive if he got injured that badly.

“Chishiya!” you yelled out, hearing nothing but your own echo answering you. You held no care for being heard by the potentially still alive seeker at that moment. All you wanted was to find Chishiya.

“Chishiya, please!” You lifted your feet and rushed to the grey door where the seeker originally came from. It was slightly ajar and a light from the hallway outside was shining through into the room.

You pushed through the door, almost tripping over in the process. Further up the hall, two people laid on the ground. One was on their back with no movement while the other was leant up against the wall clutching their shoulder.

The injured one wore a white hoodie, making you immediately recognize them as your partner.

“Oh my god, Chishiya.” you whispered as you approached him, eyes locking on the large blood stain on his white hoodie. “Y/N, I told you to stay in the room,” he groaned out.

You placed a hand against his that held his wound, trying to keep pressure on it to lessen the bleeding. “I couldn’t. I wasn’t going to let you die that easy.”

He smiled up at you, a pained expression on his face as he hissed and whimpered at the pain of his wound. “They got me in the shoulder, but that was it.”

“You should be fine. If we get back to The Beach and get Ann to remove the bullet, it’ll heal fine.”

He knew you didn’t really know that. You were trying to reassure yourself that he would live. But either way, he wasn’t planning on dying on you anytime soon.

You looked away from him, glancing over at the figure lying on the ground motionless. The eagle mask was still lazily placed on their face. Chishiya probably didn’t want to remove it out of respect for the individual.

“How’d you kill them?” you asked, locking eyes with him once again.

“A few shocks around the ears to knock them out. But I didn’t take any sharp blades with me so I had to get creative,” he explained, nodding over towards a small slab of metal that laid a few metres away. “After a few hits with that to their head, they were gone.”

You cringed at the thought, but you appreciated Chishiya having the bravery to do that.

You felt a soft hand pressing itself against your stomach, rubbing the spot up and down. “Are they okay?”

A smile spread across your face. “I think so. They didn’t help much by making me throw up in the closet,” you laughed, making Chishiya grin.

“Causing mum trouble already.”

A happy tune being played from each of your pockets caught your attention.

“Game Clear. Congratulations.”

The reality suddenly hit you. You were alive and so was Chishiya. And although you would have to go through many more traumatic and harsh events such as the one you had just experienced, you would at least be there for each other, whether the outcome was bad or not.

“Come on. Let’s go home,” Chishiya groaned, using his good arm to push himself up. You helped him by lifting him by his shoulders.

You were alive today, and that’s all that mattered. You would worry about tomorrow when it comes round to it.

569 notes · View notes

thelazywitchsblog · 4 years ago

Text

Story Title: I Solemnly Swear

Fandom: Harry Potter

Story Type: Fanfic AU (long)

Summary: Venauora Rose loved James Potter like a brother. She was a Hit Witch for the ICW and was on an undercover mission the night James and Lily died. Six months later, she finds out what happened and devastated, comes back to Britain to try and find answers as to why James and Lily died. She comes to know about Sirius Black's betrayal and with permission from her boss, goes to meet him in Azkaban in secret. She needed answers and he had them. But the truth is not always as it seems and seemingly friends are enemies. The truth of what happened shocks her to the core and now she must free Sirius, find Harry and punish those responsible.

Part: Chapter 2.

Warning: Dumbledore and slight Weasley Bashing.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 2: Information and An Ally

Early next morning, I made my way to the Hit Wizard and Witch department of the Defence and Peacekeeping Federation of the ICW. I needed to speak with my boss because if anyone could help me in finding Harry and freeing Sirius, it would be her.

I walked up to her secretary, Dorothy, a petite red headed woman with a thick pair of glasses and an Norwegian accent.

“Good morning Dorothy. I need to speak with Madame Gustafson. It’s urgent.”

She looked up at me and smiled pleasantly. “A minute please.”

She picked up her pen and wrote a note on the ledger in front of her. A few moments later, a message appeared directly under her writing in black ink.

She looked up at me. “She’s waiting for you.”

I smiled at her in thanks.

I took a deep breath as I stood in front of the large oak door to Madame Gustafson's office and knocking once on the door, opened it.

“Thank you for meeting me ma’am.”

Madame Gustafson looked up from her files and smiled a small smile.

She was a small woman with soft features and smile lines around her eyes and mouth, not registering as a threat at first glance. But first glances can be deceptive, especially in her case. She had the highest number of arrests and missions under her name. As a highly decorated War Mage, she was both feared and respected by everyone in the ICW. It was rumoured that the other departments of the Defence and Peacekeeping Federation in the ICW were jealous of the Hit Wizard and Witch department, simply because Madame Gustafson was the Head of Department.

She pushed her short grey hairs away from her face as she gestured me inside.

“No thanks needed. What’s the matter?” She said as I took a seat in front of her desk.

I smiled at her. “Before I say anything else, I just want to thank you for helping me get into Azkaban without the British Ministry knowing about it.”

She nodded once as her eyes narrowed. Without saying anything else, she pressed a button on her desk. I felt the small vibrations around the room as the privacy protocols activated around the room. Nobody could hear us now. Or even enter the room without her explicit permission.

Ultimate security.

“Now what’s going on?”

I sighed. “It’s about Sirius Black and his involvement in the deaths of James and Lily Potter.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“He’s innocent. He claims Peter Pettigrew was the actual traitor and he was the one who told Voldemort about where the Potter’s were hiding.”

Her eyebrow inched higher. “And you believe him?”

I nodded. “He took a vow on his magic. He worded it carefully so that there was no loophole that could cast doubt on him.”

Her brows creased as she thought for a moment. “May I see the memory of the vow?”

I nodded. “Of course.”

Taking out my wand, I placed it at my temple and concentrating hard, I slowly extracted a silver strand of memory from my head, attached to the tip of my wand.

She motioned me towards the small pensieve on her desk. I carefully placed the memory inside and watched as she pushed a button on it. A hologram of the memory appeared between us and she watched the vow being made by Sirius.

She didn’t say anything for a minute after the memory played out and simply stated at me. I met her gaze unflinchingly, wondering about the thoughts that would be running through her head at this very moment.

Finally, sighing, she said, “The vow was worded very cleverly. He probably was waiting for someone to come ask him and had already planned what to say. But you’re right. The vow proves he didn’t kill James and Lily Potter either directly or indirectly. What about his charges against Pettigrew?”

I leaned back into the chair. “He claims Pettigrew is alive and living as a rat.”

Her eyes widened. “An animagus?”

“Illegal animagus.” I corrected.

Her eyes narrowed. “I see. What do you want of me?”

I took a deep breath. “Your help. Sirius claims he wasn’t given a trial. I think we should give him one. Or force the British Ministry to hold a trial.”

She pursed her lips. “There has to be a case file on Sirius Black. If he wasn’t given a trial, then there will be no transcripts of the trial nor a verdict recorded.”

I nodded. “And if we can bring this information to light in front of the right people, then we can get him a trial. Besides, the British Ministry would be guilty of breaking the treaty they have with ICW if they deny him a trial any longer.”

She smiled. “Correct.” She pulled out a piece of parchment from one of the drawers in her desk and inked her quill and started writing. “I have a contact in the British Ministry. Her name is Amelia Bones. Smart girl, loyal and a great believer in justice. I once scouted her as a member of the Hit Wizard and Witches division, but she preferred to work in the Ministry. I’ll ask her to meet you....when?”

I thought for a moment. “In about two hours.”

She looked up at me with shrewd eyes and a conspiratorial smile. “You’re going to go look in the archives, aren’t you?”

At least she was smiling, I thought in relief. “Yes. A copy of the case file will be immediately added to the archives here after the file is completed. It can serve as additional proof if Madame Bones doesn’t believe me.”

She nodded as she folded the parchment and placed it on her letter tray, where it vanished after five minutes. “Okay then. Anything else?”

I took another deep breath, knowing that the next words out of my mouth would be more important to Madame Gustafson above all else. After all, she was the one who sent me on that undercover operation a year ago.

“I want to reopen our investigation into Albus Dumbledore.”

Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second before narrowing. “I thought you said you had no leads.”

I have one now.

“I didn’t. But Sirius claims that Albus knew he wasn’t the secret keeper. And yet I know for a fact that when Arcturus Black told the Wizengamot that Sirius couldn’t have betrayed the Potter’s, it was Dumbledore who told the entire Wizengamot that he knew Sirius was the secret keeper.”

“Did he take the stand? Did someone use veritaserum on him?”

I shook my head. “No. He just stood there in the middle of the room and told everyone this. And they all believed him.”

She snorted in disgust and disdain at the general idiocy of the British Wizarding Community regarding Albus Dumbledore.

“Do you want to go solo or do you need a team?”

I thought for a moment. “A team will be better. We can cover more ground that way and the investigation will be more thorough. But it has to be a secret. We can’t let even a rumour of this reach him or his supporters.”

She nodded and took out another piece of parchment. “I’ll give you a two person team for this. Any more and we might as well announce this to the entire world.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

She wrote a quick note on her ledger as I waited. After she was done, she looked up at me. “I’ve asked Eliza McKinney and Jasper Lovett to assist you. No problems I hope?”

I shook my head. I’ve worked on other cases with both of them before and I trusted them. They were both smart and knew how to handle cases which required utmost secrecy.

Madame Gustafson’s voice softened as she asked, “And what about your Godson? Did you find him?”

I shook my head, fighting back tears and a sense of fury. “No. Dumbledore knows where he is. I’m sure of it. Sirius said that Dumbledore claimed Harry is in a safe place. It could be anywhere.”

She thought for a moment. “A Magical Orphanage maybe?”

Unlikely, I thought.

I shook my head. “No. He would want to keep Harry someplace where he could keep an eye on him. An orphanage is most probable, but he wouldn’t risk placing Harry is a magical orphanage because he would be easily identifiable after the his parent’s death. Did you know there are rumours that he has a scar on his forehead because of the Killing Curse?”

She shrugged. “I heard about it. But the chances of that spell leaving a scar is doubtful.”

She was right about that. The Killing Curse was created so that one could kill without leaving a trace or mark of injury on the body. It was widely used during the middle ages by one dark wizard or another to kill muggles.

“What about Muggle orphanages?”

He wouldn’t risk it, I thought. “He would be risking the Statute of Secrecy if he did that. Most magical children are able to do accidental magic by the age of two at the earliest. If he had placed Harry at a Muggle Orphanage then it would’ve been hard to disguise his magical abilities when they manifested. And he wouldn’t risk his status if it was found out that the Statute of Secrecy was made flouted by Dumbledore in this way.”

She nodded. “What about family?”

A lump formed in my throat as Fleamont and Euphemia's faces flashed in my mind. I cleared my throat as I answered her. “James’s parents died shortly before he was killed. And James didn’t have any extended family...except for us.”

She smiled sadly and reached over to pat my hand that was on her desk in comfort. “And Lily?”

I gently removed my hand from under hers and placed my hands on my lap with fingers interlocked. “Her parents died a few months after she married James.” Although there was one family member I hadn’t considered. “She did have a sister...” I whispered as sudden fear and anxiety gripped me.

She frowned. “Miss Rose?”

It couldn’t be. Could it?

The thought was so absurd and yet... Dumbledore claimed Harry was in a safe place. If I was right, then Dumbledore might’ve just placed Harry in the most dangerous situation possible.

I looked up at her, my voice barely a whisper, “He couldn’t have... Petunia hates magic. She made that quite clear at Lily’s wedding. If Dumbledore placed Harry with her...”

Madame Gustafson looked worried as she stood and walked around the desk, sitting on the chair next to me and placed a hand on my shoulder. “Venauora?”

I swallowed back a lump in my throat. “Harry might be in danger.”

Her brows furrowed. “How so?”

“Petunia...” I took a deep breath. “She hates magic. She didn’t want anything to do with Lily. She always pretended as if Lily wasn’t her sister and considered her a 'freak'. The last time Lily contacted Petunia was to tell her about Harry’s birth. I was there when Petunia sent a reply. She had said that Lily should drown Harry before he became a 'freak' like her.”

Madame Gustafson had never looked so angry as she did at that moment. Petunia was lucky she wasn’t in the room right now.

She took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself. But when she spoke, her voice was flat with suppressed anger. “Do you know where this Petunia lives?”

I shook my head. “No. Lily never went to meet her after what happened. She said it was to save Petunia from being a target but I think she was just too hurt or scared of her sister’s rejection.”

She muttered something about 'Idiot and shitty sisters' and looked me in the eye. “Do you know anything that would help track us down?”

“She married a man named Vladimir...” That wasn’t his name. Oh right, it was Vernon. “No. His name was Vernon. Vernon Dursley. Lily once told me worked for some company that made drills or something. I think it was called Grunnings?”

She nodded as she stood. I’lll put a team on finding her. You go find that file and go meet Amelia. Do you have your communication device with you?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

She smiled grimly. “Good. I’ll inform you when we find them. Now go.”

Two hours later, I was seated in front of Amelia Bones, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in the British Ministry of Magic. The Security Protocols were up and running, giving us the utmost privacy and security that the British Ministry provided.

Madame Bones was a square jawed witch with a stern face. She had close cropped black hair with a few grey hairs in between and she wore a monocle. The monocle gave her an appearance of being a serious person.

At the moment, she was staring at me with a small smile that did not quite reach her eyes.

I like her.

“Miss Rose. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Madame Gustafson said you would be visiting.”

I nodded. “Thank you for meeting me on such short notice Madame Bones.”

She leaned back against her chair and placed her hands on her laps. “Please call me Amelia.”

I gave her a small smile. “You can call me Vena.”

“What can I help you with?” She asked as she took off her monocle and placed it on her desk.

I decided to get straight to the point. “One of your inmates at Azkaban didn’t receive a trail. And as you know, you can’t hold a prisoner in Azkaban without trial for more than a month or it would be considered a breach in the treaty that made the British Ministry a part of the ICW.”

She raised an eyebrow and gestured me to continue.

Very well.

“Sirius Black has been in Azkaban for the past six months without trial. And I believe he is innocent.”

She suddenly sat up straight as she stared at me in shock. “What?”

I took out Sirius’s file from the inside of my cloak and place it on the desk in front of her.

“This is his file. As you can see, there’s only the arrest sheet inside it. There are no trial transcripts or anything else.”

She picked it up and opening it, read the single sheet of parchment inside. Her hands clenched into fists as she finished reading. Finally, she slammed the file down on her desk and looked at me with a steely glare. “How did you get this?”

I gave her a small smile. “A copy of every case file that is ever recorded in any Ministry affiliated to the ICW appears in our archives. It’s for better cooperation between all of us.”

She frowned. “And to spy on the workings of the ministry.”

“Well, considering this case, can you blame us?”

“No.” She sighed. “Why do you think he’s innocent?”

I shrugged. “Because I met him. And he took a magical vow stating his innocence.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“I need to see the memory of that vow.”

“Of course.” I said as I handed her the copy of the memory in a vial from inside the pocket of my cloak. “I assure you it’s not been tempered with. Madame Gustafson herself has seen it and can assure you of its authenticity should you so desire.”

She nodded as she took the vial from my hands and walked over to the pensieve in the corner of her office. I waited as she viewed the memory and when she emerged from the pensieve, she looked shocked. She staggered back to her chair and sat for a few minutes, gathering her thoughts.

Finally she looked up at me.

“When did you-?”

I interrupted her, already anticipating her question. “Yesterday.”

Her eyes narrowed. “How did you go to Azkaban and met one of the top security prisoners without the Ministry knowing?”

“Madame Gustafson.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Of course. What do you need me to do?”

I motioned towards the file. “Hold a trial for Sirius as soon as possible. He shouldn’t be in that hellhole any longer.”

She nodded as she pulled a piece of parchment towards her and started scribbling away. “Of course. I’ll call an emergency session in the Wizengamot immediately.”

I took a deep breath. “One other thing. Dumbledore should not be part of the trial proceedings.”

She stopped writing and after a pause, looked up at me. “Why not?”

I pursed my lips, thinking of what to tell her. “As you recall, after Sirius was arrested Arcturus Black demanded to know on what grounds did everyone claim his grandson had betrayed the Potter’s.”

She nodded, her eyes growing wide as she recalled what had happened. “And Dumbledore said that Sirius was the Secret Keeper.”

“Yes. But according to Sirius, Dumbledore knew that Sirius wasn’t the secret keeper.”

Her brows furrowed as she considered. “So Dumbledore lied in the Wizengamot.”

I nod once. “Yes. And he did so while under oath as Chief Warlock.”

She muttered under her breath, “That doddering old bastard.”

I smothered back a sudden laugh. “Agreed.”

She suddenly looked confused and looked at me. “Wait...so who was the Secret Keeper?”

I stared at her. “Peter Pettigrew.”

She leaned back in her chair and her eyes narrowed. “Are you certain?”

I nodded. “Sirius claimed it was him. And I went to visit the Potter’s solicitor. He gave me a copy of the will and it’s written there, clear as day, that Peter Pettigrew was the secret keeper.”

A look of fury crossed her face as she considered this information. She shut her eyes and through clenched teeth, asked, “Why didn’t the Solicitor come forward with this information?”

I waited until she opened her eyes and focused on me again. “Simple. He didn’t know. Still doesn’t know actually. James and Lily wrote the will themselves and sealed in such a way that it would only open to either a Gringotts Goblin, one of those who were named in the will or the executor of the will. Guess who was the executor?”

Her eyes narrowed to slits and her nostrils flared. “Albus?”

I smiled at her. “Correct. So Dumbledore knew of the Keepers being changed, he knew Sirius was innocent and he also refused to execute the Potter’s Will.”

A sudden look of suspicion and then understanding crossed her face. “You managed to unseal it.”

“That’s for another discussion on another day.”

She nodded and reached for another piece of parchment. “The solicitor should’ve come forward with the Will. At least the Potter’s Account manager at Gringotts would’ve been able to open the will.”

I absently flicked a piece of imaginary lint away from my cloak. “I know. But Dumbledore had convinced the poor sod that if he came forward with the Will, he would be targeted by those loyal to the Dark Lord in regards to the location of Harry Potter.”

Her expression didn’t change, but I thought I could detect a faint hint of anger underlying her features. “I’ll see if I can manage to get Dumbledore away from the proceedings. But it would be difficult. He has a lot of supporters.”

I shrugged in indifference. “Bring up his negligence in court and his lies about Sirius. That would be enough to keep him away. And choose another Chief Warlock temporarily for this case.”

She nodded. “That could be done. Tiberius Ogden would be a good replacement for the time being. He’s smart and unbiased.”

Before I could answer her, a small ding sounded in the room. I excused myself as I pulled out my communications device, a small pocket watch, from around my neck. I flipped it open.

On the small glass, there was a message.

Found the Dursleys. 4, Privet Drive, Surrey. Magical signature detected. Hurry.

I stood up so suddenly that Madame Bones was startled. I closed the watch and tucked it back inside.

They found him.

I turned towards the door.

“I have to go.”

She stood up, worry etched on her face. “Is everything okay?”

No. Nothing is okay.

I forced back the tears in my eyes. “I have to check up on something.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Need any help?”

I paused.

Taking Amelia with me would be beneficial in the long run. If I’m right about this, then it would be much easier to take down Dumbledore.

I stared at her as I said slowly, “Yes, actually. If what I believe is to be true, then we’ll have another case against Dumbledore.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What case?”

My voice was flat as I answered her, “Child Negligence and Endangerment in the case of Harry Potter.”

#harry potter #harry potter fic #harry potter fanfiction #sirius black x oc #sirius black #dumbledore bashing #i hate dumbledore #dumbledore doesn't know what's gonna hit him #harry potter raised by sirius

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omgmarysuebs-blog · 6 years ago

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One Piece OC | Gekido Oroka review

So here we go with our first review of this beautiful trainwreck. Let me just point out that her long gun has scars. Idek what to say to that but let’s take a look at her profile.

"Call me "Monster" if you want. That just don't fucking affect me."

How supremely edgy. You already know what kind of character this is gonna be. GENERAL INFORMATION Name: Oroka Last Name: Gekido Complete Name: Gekido Oroka Japanese Name: 激怒愚か All fine. Nicknames: Bloody | Vampire | Oro-Chan | Monster from Mugoi | Chef (By Solider's) Epithet: "Bloody Vampire" "Bloody" is not a nickname. And let's just say that Vampires in the One Piece OC fandom are overused and stupid. Age: 6 (child) | 16 | 23 | 30 (age when she will die) Birth: 31th October 1476 Astrological Sign: Scorpio Handicap: Dextrocardia How is this exactly a handicap to her? You explain literally nothing about how it affects her. Also how wonderfully edgy to have your birthday on halloween. First Appearance: Memory Arc (My Own Arc | As Flashback) Seiyuu: (wip) APPEARANCE Spiece: Human Gender: Female Bloodtype: X (A in One Piece world) Hair: Red short hair who arrived on her shoulders. We noticed that almost every OC this person has has got red hair and almost the same hairstyle too. So I smell self insert. Eyes: Yellow eyes with a circle around her iris Height: 1,55cm Weight: (wip) Birth Marks: She have an birth mark of her family in the back of her neck Scar: Oroka an a scar on her nose, her left leg, and right arm Where do these come from? Tattoo: /// Makeup: /// Accessories: She have a medallion with the photo of her and her sister Akane Jewels: /// If she doesn't have tats or makeup or whatever just don't add it. It's unnecessary. Others: She have small boobs, and she have her teeth like vampire Why is it important if her boobs are big or small??? We can see it on the picture and it's just not relevant. This happens a lot in the OP fandom where people feel the need to explain in detail what kind of proportions their characters have just because the canon females have giant boobs. Your OC also isn't anymore special because she has small boobs unlike the others. STATUS Affiliation: Princess of Mugoi Island (former); Solider of Heiwana Island ( andylookout Island ) Occupations: Princess of Mugoi Island (before); Commander; Solider Another princess backstory and a tragic one too. It just keeps getting better! Bounty: 1.000 (At 6 Years Old) | 10.000 (At 10 Years Old) | 50.000.000 (At 14 Years Old) | 100.000.000 (At 16 years old) Bounty Disclaimer: Alive Where does this bounty come from? It never gets explained not even in her history. And giving your characters a bounty when they haven't even turned like 12 is kinda ripping off Robin. Btw don't pull a Sanji with the Bounty Disclaimer. INFO COMBAT Devil Fruit: Ketsueki Ketsueki no Mi (Blood Fruit) Type: Paramecia Who she eat it?: Forced to eat it by Osoro her father when she was 5 years old Alright first off: the goddamn Blood fruit is so overused on edgy OCs it hurts. And all OCs with this fruit are somehow extremely similar in both backstory and personality. It's always cliche af and why in hell would her own father force her to it something so valueable? Why wouldn't he eat it himself instead if he's so evil? And WHY AT 5 YEARS?? Weapon: She have a lot weapon, but her main is a long gun Capacities: (wip) Force: (wip) Weakness: Sea Stone, and Sea Water Haki: Busoshoku Haki; Kenbunshoku no Haki~ We never get to know how she got both Haki. You don't just learn these on your own, who trained her? Who taught her? Also I'd love to see One Piece OCs with more weaknesses than just the standard ones. Give your character a bit more depth. ATTACKS Brace yourselves. This shit is insane. Bloody Wings: Can create wings with her blood fruit. She can use them for flying, but she only can fly 30 minutes with her bloody wings. 30 fucking minutes. Robin can only fly for something around 5 seconds. Why is it such a popular thing to give your OC the ability to fly?? If you want your character to be able to fly give them a wings fruit or bird zoan fruit idc. But don't do this, it's overpowered. Bloody Body: Can transform her whole body into blood. She don't use it a lot, because for Oroka, that not useful How is that not useful?? Also this is a paramecia fruit. Your character wouldn't be able to turn her body into blood or whatever because it's not a logia fruit. Get your facts straight. Bloody Tornado: Can create a tornado of blood. She can do small tornado, large tornado, or big tornado. Her big tornado blood is always very strong. Wouldn't she die of bloodloss? I mean a whole tornado out of only her blood is a bit extreme don't you think? Or is the blood just appearing out of thin air? I thought it's her own. Bloody Clone: Can create a bloody clone of herself. Even if that a clone, the clone won't have the color of her user, but will have the color of blood. Of course. More overpowered bs. Bloody Whip: Can create blood whip. She use it like a normal whip. Bloody Shield: Create with a blood shield for protect herself. How does that work??? Things can go through blood quite easily unless you can harden your blood which would be just kawaii. Bloody Bullets: Attack her enemy with bloody bullets. Sometimes, she try to use Haki on it for make her bullets more strong.~ Why do you even need bloody bullets if you have tons of weapons and guns on you anyway? Decide on one thing. Bloody Sucking: Can take the blood of her enemy, and absorb it! Oroka never do this attack, she do it one time, and that was dangerous for herself too. She can't control this.~ Just no. And what do you mean she can't control it? Will she go insane with a horrible thirst for blood and then shimmer in the moonlight twilightstyle? And that tilde is just so sugoi. Teehee look at me I'm so strong and psycho owo ORIGIN Native Island: Mugoi Island - New World Gekido Osoro: Osoro is the king of Mugoi Island but also the father of Oroka. Osoro just consider Oroka like an object, and object who have to help him for having the power he want. He just want his child is strong and clever. He always call Oroka "peace of shit" and all bad nicknames. Oroka loved her father when she was a child, until she have 6 years old, where she start to hate him a lot. She already to try to kill him, but she kill her own sister accidentally because of him. Osoro also did a lot of scar on Oroka body, like in her nose, arm and leg, because Oroka never listen him, so for punish, she do the horrible thing to cut one part of Oroka body, but Akane always try to stop him when she can. If Oroka can't kill Osoro one day, she will never be in peace when she will die. So that's where the scars come from. Still wtf is this? Again if Osoro wants to be powerful so bad why didn't he eat the fruit himself? Also you don't just suddenly start to ultimately hate your parents by the age of freaking 6 and then just try to KILL them. Like holy shit this is not how kids work. Btw if he wants Oroka to be oh so powerful why did he try to cut one part of her body and just generally treat her like dog shit which would make her more and more handicapped? Gekido Nikui: Nikui is the wife of Osoro so the queen of Mugoi Island, and also the mother of Oroka. Like Osoro, she consider her own child like an object who have to help them to have power. She only do her childs for they have an object who have to be strong and help them, that always makes Oroka angry. But like Osoro too, when she was a child, she loved her mother Nikui, until her 6 years old too. For Oroka, she need to be killed like Osoro, she is bad for this world, and her own child. If Oroka can't kill Nikui one day, she will never be in peace when she will die like for Osoro. Same as before. Kids don't just randomly start to hate their parents at age 6 so much that they want to kill them. Kids around that age don't even really understand what's going on around them and just want to love and be loved by their parents. Gekido Akane: Akane is the big sister of Oroka, who is also for her, her real family. Akane is a very good sister with Oroka, always kind and here to help or protect her. Akane hate a lot Nikui and Osoro, so if they do horrible things to Oroka, she won't hesited to talk bad to her parents. Oroka love a lot her sister, she was always with her when she was child, because she was scared of her parents, but also she always smiled with her sister. Oroka will sadly kill Akane accidently because of Osoro who will use her as a shield when Oroka wanted to kill Osoro. The only regret she have is that she kill her own sister, even that not her fault. So Oroka was 5 years old when she was forced to eat the Blood fruit and at age 6 she was already capable of killing another human being?? What?? She's 6. She probably wouldn't even know wtf she's doing. And why did nobody stop her when she tried to kill her father? It's a 6 year old girl!! How is she even a threat??? You could just throw her out the window with one arm. Gekido Jihi: Jihi is the little brother of Oroka, they never meet, Oroka just don't know that she have a little brother, because he is born when she left her Home Island when Akane died. She will know that she have a brother when she will have 16 years old, but Oroka just don't care of him. Jihi hate her sister, and for him, she is a shame for Gekido family, he also think this for Osoro and Nikui. He will be very happy if his sister die one day. Spidy: Spidy is the little spider of Oroka when she was a child, she find Spidy at the forest with her big sister Akane. When Oroka see her for the first time, she love this little spider a LOT, and wanted to adopt her. She give to her little spider the name of "Spidy" and will always take care of her ! Spidy will live only one year with Oroka, and will die at the 6th Birthday of Oroka because of Nikui who kill Spidy...just because Nikui don't want that Oroka have empathy with animal, insect and humans... Ok first off insects are animals but aside from that "Spidy" is like the most uncreative name for a spider I've ever heard. The whole point of Spidy is to give Oroka more pity-points so that we feel even more bad for her. Oroka Grandparents from Osoro Side: She never see her grandparents from Osoro side, but she know that they are like Osoro. Oroka don't even want to see them one day, she hope a lot that they are dead. Oroka Grandparents from Nikui Side: Oroka see her grandparents only one or two time when she was a little child, and she love them a lot. She see them when she was 3-4 years old. She remember that her grandparents try to save her and Akane from Nikui and Osoro, and they wanted that Akane and Oroka have a good life, a good childhood, and all..Her grandparents never hated her, even if she turn into a psycho, they know that Oroka always have her good side when she was a child when they see what happen to her. Time pass, and Oroka didn't see them since she was a child, but always remember them when she grow up. She would like to see them again, because even if she don't show her feelings to others, she still love a lot her grandparents...Will she see them one day ? What stopped them from taking these two little kids with them? Why did they stop to try saving them when they clearly saw that Oroka was slowly going batshit insane and beaten by her parents? Why does Oroka not know where they are? And why are these grandparents so lovely and nice and their daughter Nikui such a bitch? Story: Oroka born on Mugoi Island on a 31th October. She is the princess of Mugoi Island and the child of the king Osoro and the queen Nikui. Since she born, Oroka never wanted to be a princess, she hate that and all princess things a lot. She just wanted to be free, like others peoples. But the only things interested her parents about her, that making her strong, powerful, clever, and the best child, only because they want to have power, something Oroka didin't want like her big sister Akane, but even if her parents are horrible, she loved her. Until one day, at her 6th birthday, she started to hate a parents a lot, for they, they are horrible, and need to go to hell, she also think that someone need to stop them before they do horrible things to others peoples. She stared to be crazy and got murderous drive, so she try to kill her own father Osoro, but Osoro use Akane as a shield to protect himself, that mean that Oroka kill her sister accidentally, the only person who was important for her. For her, that was her fault, only her fault if Akane died. She was very in rage in front Osoro for what he did, she tell to him that one day, one day she will pay for what all he did to her and her sister Oroka, and that she will go to hell him and his wife, and she go away from the Island because she can't stay here anymore. And all that happened on her 6th birthday on ONE day. Again, you don't love your parents the one day and hate them the next and want to kill them and want them to go to hell. What do you even mean by stopping them before they do horrible things to others?? What other people? How does she manage to escape too? She's a child, people should be able to catch her easily. After that Osoro do everything that Oroka got a bounty, she have 5.000 berrys on her head, and when Oroka see that, she didn't care, because she will kick or kill people who want to kill her or give her to Osoro or the Navy. But Oroka last name was not on her bounty poster, and that makes her happy because Gekido's are not her family, and for her she is not a part of them. I thought she had a bounty of 1.000 as stated above? Whats true now? Why does she not care if people wanna kill her? She's fucking 6 she would be scared as hell especially since it sounds like she never left the island before that. At her 10th birthday, 4 years after leaving Mugoi Island, Oroka got 10.000 berry on her face, people started to be scared of her, and try to hide they self if they see Oroka. She was always this little girl when she was 6 years old, she didn't change, well, she change, but in the worst way. If she need food or money, she don't heisted to steal people, if people don't give her what she want, she start to act crazy. When people see that she have the Blood Fruit, people start to call her "Bloody Girl" because for them, this is what she is. So she gets a raise on every birthday of hers. How convenient, the marines are so nice with their gifts. Where does that bounty come from, what did she do? And "Bloody girl" is just so ...cringy and cliche my head hurts. Btw she's 10, why is she such a big threat to other adults? Oh, because her devil fruit is so powerful of course, sorry I forgot. At her 14th birthday, she got again a new bounty : 1.000.000. But this time, she was angry, because she see her last name on her bounty poster now, that was not only Oroka now, but "Gekido Oroka". The thing that she don't know, that Osoro want her back, always for the same reason like at the past. She started to think at this moment that the date of her birthday is always a cursed day, with bad luck and all. But this is not always true. Another bounty, again: why? And oh how edgy, she hates her family and her last name so so much, those meanie marines how could they?! At her 16th birthday, she was on a Island called Heiwana, a type of Island she hate a lot, because that was an Kingdom Island. She will meet in this Island someone called Koshiro, she won't like him a lot, but the thing that she don't know, that when she will see this man, she don't know that she will have something that her own parents never give to her. (need to write it again) Yeah you sure as hell do. Why would she visit an island she doesn't like? Who tf is Koshiro? And let me guess what you're talking about is love. Absolutely didn’t see that one coming. PERSONALITY Laugh: Mouhahahahah ! Only the lamest villain laugh of all time. Positive Traits: Can be a nice person if we know her | Can have normal feelings like everybody sometimes -wip- Negatives Traits: Love killing people or torturing them | Never really happy | Never smile normally (this is SUPER rare, like impossible) | Act like an child when she want to make someone suffer | Have no empathy | Can't Lie -wip- This is so terribly edgy I cut myself. She sounds like Sasuke honestly. Normal feelings and can be a nice person but is a torture loving psycho at the same time? What? This is so bland idek. Likes: Blood | Torture | Cherry | Strawberries | Weapons | Having fun with her victims | Fight | Read Books | Insects | Weird Things | Be Free -wip- Hates: Hate people who want power | Hate kingdoms | Hate nature | Hate herself | Hate her parents | hate joking | Hate when someone joke on her | Hate when people call her a child | Hate when people compared her as a Gekido | Hate to do nothing | Hate dress | Hate shoes will long heels | Hate Make Up | Hate Treason | Hate when someone tell her orders and tell her what to do | Hate romantics things | Hate Coffee | Hate Tea | Hate showing her body | Hate showing her scars | Hate showing her Birth Mark | Hate when people call her "Bloody Pancake" or "Cherry Pancake" | Hate cleaning somethings | Hate some type of people | Hate to be weak | Cooking | The smell of smoking So she hates everything under the sun then. I also noticed a pattern in this persons OCs, they all seem to hate showing off their bodies or scars or whatever so the self insert smell intensifies. And "hate some type of people"? What kind?? And I'm pretty sure noone would call her bloody pancake if she's oh so scary and whatnot. Favorite Food: Cherry Hated Food: Everything about meat, fish and chicken food Favorite Color: Red Hated Color: Pink Favorite Drink: Cherry Juice | Coffee (only when that prepared by Kyoshi) Hated Drink: Milk Favorite Animal: Nope (she prefer insects) Hated Animal: Bunnies INSECTS ARE ANIMALS. And of course she loves everything red like cherries and shit and hates everything girly because thats not badass. Favorite Season: Winter Hated Season: Summer Favorite Flower: Red Rose Favorite Number: 666 This is a cliche as it can get. 666? REALLY?? Intelligence: -wip- Stamina: Good, but can be bad sometimes because of her Dextrocardia So here's a tiny bit of info about her Dextrocardia but it still gives NO insight to how much it actually affects her in battle or everyday life. Observation: Very Good Mental Strength: Good, but she have a psycho mental, so her mental can be good and turn bad as a psycho Then it's not good. It's terrible even. She's a psycho so she's pretty much insane and has NO mental strength left or at least she shouldn't if she's really the way you claim her to be. Determination: Full Determination Trust: Don't trust anyone Humor: She have more creepy stuff humor Patience: Depend of the situation, she can be totally calm, and start to get very angry in any second if someone broke her patience Laziness: She is not lazy, if she is bored, she always need to do something Pervert: Oroka is totally not pervert, she is a 100% asexual Habits: Always love to collect weapons, and also sometimes collect insects. Dream: /// Fear: Philophobia (Fear of Love) Sleeping Rhythm: She go to bed at midnight and wake up at 3 pm, she don't sleep a lot I thought her dream was to kill her parents? And why the fear of love? Where does that come from? Btw if she goes to sleep at midnight and wakes up at 3 PM she gets a ton of sleep. I think you wanted to say AM, right? I hope so. Smells like: Blood Urgh. Sexuality: Asexual Love: Nobody RELATIONSHIP STARDUST D. FAMILY Stardust D.Koshiro: Oroka didn't like Koshiro at the beginning, and never trust him, before, she think that Koshiro was like her father Osoro, but with time, she see that no. If Oroka is the commander of the army of Heiwana Island, that because of Koshiro who trust her a lot. Koshiro will be a little strict and direct with Oroka, and will be not gentle when they are training. That was hard, but with time, Oroka consider Koshiro like a father. He love her as a daughter. When did she become a commander?? And why on an island she hates too? Miyuki: (wip) Stardust D.Léo: (wip) Stardust D.Kosuke: (wip) Raid: (wip) MY OCs Teki Kyoshi: Kyoshi is a big fan of Oroka, she like her a lot, and love how she fight and all. She admire her a lot because of her courage, that because of Oroka if Kyoshi wanted to join her and her army. Oroka think that Kyoshi was very annoying with her at the beginning, but at the end, they start to be good friend, that will be also the first friend that Oroka will have. -wip- Why would anyone want to be around Oroka? She is known to be a psycho and scared by many so why do these people want to be friends with her or even let her in the army?? I'm sorry but handicapped psychos aren't exactly allowed in the army at least in the real world because they're deemed as not capable since they’re unreliable, Koichi: -wip- Hiromi Yoku: She know a little Yoku, an important person of Memory Island, Oroka think nothing about her, but Yoku think that Oroka is a very good solider for Heiwana Island. Hiromi Hanako: Oroka is wary with Hanako, even she know that Hanako is a very good person, she have her own reason to be wary. -wip- Hiromi Erika: With Erika and Oroka, that very special with them. Nobody know what or how is they relationship. Only some people of the past know what is the special thing about them. What? Why is their relationship such a secret? Why does nobody know about it if it's so special? Byoki : Oroka don't like her, because she is evil, and someone who is bad. She know that Byoki will do bad things to Memory Island. Byoki also hate Oroka, for her, that will be better if Oroka die. PEOPLES OCs Tell me if you want an relationship with Oroka, but she is not part of what happen on OP story, but before Erika is born~ No thank you. I'll keep my OCs to myself. And this is how not to make an One Piece OC. Our advice for you: Rewrite her story. It's nonsense that a 6 year old girl does all these things out of the blue and just because you call her a psycho doesn't justify any of it. It still makes no sense at all. Tone down the attacks and her powers and give her more weaknesses. I think you can do a lot of cool stuff with a Blood fruit but it only ever gets used by cringy 14 year olds who want to pump out edgy OCs to make them look super badass. Tone it down with the bloody shit as well. Especially her favourites and her nicknames. Your character can be a psycho or whatever but give them a bit more depth than just blood and violence and teehee I love torturing uwu. Give her more reasons to become as twisted as she is. People and especially kids don't just go crazy over night, no matter what crazy shit happens to them in one day.

#one piece #op #oc #original character #gekido oroka #mary sue #marysue #omgmarysuebs #female #edgy

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bowlegsandbiceps · 4 years ago

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Suptober Day 7: Domestic

Take Him Home

Teen / Humans Are Pets AU - Angel!Cas + Pet!Dean / Dean & Castiel / 3,775 words

Read on AO3

Suptober Masterlist (A03)

In the beginning, there was God, and God created Angels, Man, and Demons alike. Then God got tired of his toys and fucked off somewhere, where exactly no one knew. Millenia passed, wars were waged, and the scales of good and evil didn’t so much balance as became moot once the earth was scorched and mankind nearly went the way of the Dodo.

It was a mercy, the angels gathering up the last of the humans, fragile and frail as they were, and began the work of repopulating their species. Demons found the practice absurd and amusing at first, just another strange sentimentality of the Angels’ who longed for the days when they watched over humanity at their Father’s orders. A few more eons and humanity was once again thriving. However, hundreds of years of being bred in captivity and subjugated as unskilled labor made them soft and slow, less like their fearsome ancestors that gave both heaven and hell reason to fear them.

Castiel remembered all of this from his fledgling days, learning about the time before the Great Truce when humans ranked above both Angels and Demons, despite their weakness and short lifespans. Naomi and Zachariah, his assigned guardians, abhorred humans, they being among the few angels that remembered when God was present, and humanity reigned. Castiel had a few friends who’d had a human pet or worker before they’d completed their primary training, and Castiel had always been fascinated by the small, soft creatures with their expressive faces and lyrical speech only they seemed to understand.

“Can I help you?”

Castiel jumped, head twisting to find Anael leaning out the pet shop’s door, and Castiel looked back to the large window display where several groups of humans were given free rein of a large room. Some were trying to climb along the back wall, seemingly looking for an exit, while others lounged and nattered at each other. Another group had started playing some kind of rudimentary game with an ambrosia seed, throwing it and chasing, tackling each other to the ground.

“I… I was just…”

“Finally considering pulling the trigger and getting yourself a human?” Ana smirked, and Castiel frowned at her.

“No,” Castiel shook his head. “Well, not… not really like that. I’m… I’ve been accepted to the Seraph Academy.”

Ana’s eyes lit up. “Wow, congrats Castiel! They haven’t accepted new students in, what? A couple centuries?” Castiel felt his cheeks heat, looking at the ground as he nodded. “What will you be studying?”

Castiel eyed the window display. “The evolution of human behavior.”

Ana gasped, and Castiel was unprepared for her death-like grip on his wrist as she jerked him into the shop. “You have to get one then. If only for research purposes.”

“Ana, a human is a big responsibility. I haven’t even found accommodations near the academy yet.”

“What better time to get one than before you make your decision! Wouldn’t want to accidentally end up somewhere where they don’t allow humans. Come on, Cas look at em.”

Ana pointed to the cage in the middle of the store where even more humans were roughhousing and chasing each other, a few attempting to climb the fencing on one side. An associate reading a book would grab them around the waist and place them back on the ground at set intervals, but the humans kept trying. Castiel’s lips quirked. It was something he admired about the species, their strong will and relentlessness.

“So if you’re going to be doing research…” Ana narrowed her eyes at him, contemplating, “You probably want one that’s unique right?”

Castiel blinked. “Uh… how do you mean?”

Ana grabbed his wrist again and started pulling him towards the back and along the back wall was a line of cages that had none of the cozy trimmings of the one’s upfront. The sign above them said, “Last Chance Rescues.” Castiel narrowed his eyes at Ana.

“You want to give me a problem human?”

“No!” Ana exclaimed, waving her hands in front of her before she beckoned him over to the cage in the corner. “Look at this guy.”

Castiel leaned to peer into the cage and was startled at the size of the human inside, sitting against one wall with an elbow resting on a steepled knee, the other stretched out in front of it. Castiel tried to get a look between its legs, delicate features, and long lashes indicating female, but its chest was flat, and its hair cropped in the male style. As if realizing what Castiel was trying to do, the human dropped its hands to its genitals, shielding them from view. Castiel’s brows raised, impressed by the human’s cognitive abilities.

“He was brought in with another human, both were picked up off the street. Based on the roughness of their hands and feet they were workers but whoever owned them didn’t take very good care of them.”

“He’s large for a human. Even a male,” Castiel murmured, eyes following the curve of its spine as it hunched, facing the back of the cage away from the two of them.

“The other was bigger if you can imagine. I was a little surprised he was adopted first but he had a very sweet demeanor, was always trying to get this one into a better mood.” Ana nodded her head at the human’s back. “We wanted to adopt them out together but the right owner didn’t come along and several people were interested in Sam. We eventually let a family take just him home.”

Castiel looked up at the crack in Ana’s voice, watching her squat down to be level with the cage, fingers curling around the bars, and wiggling towards the obstinate human. “Dean, I really am very sorry. I tried. I really did I promise.”

The human shifted and let out a low grumble that made Castiel’s lips twitch. “He seems to be mad at you.”

Ana sighed, looking up at Castiel. “They were inseparable. I think they may have been siblings though they didn’t look that much alike.” A smile crept over Ana’s face. “They were a handful. Could get out of all the other open air cages in seconds and even made it out to the alley once.” Ana looked at the human again, her eyes sad. “Dean was very determined to escape with Sam. He was constantly chattering at me and guarding Sam, slapping at anyone who tried to touch either of them. Always moving, always looking for a way out. When Sam was adopted… well…” Ana sighed, looking into the cage again. “You see how he is now.” Ana looked up at him. “He’s got such a great spirit, Castiel.” She lowered her voice. “We’re pretty sure he was abused. His medical intake showed old breaks to a wrist, an ankle, both hands and most of his fingers. He has scars on his chest and back that look like he was deliberately cut with a sharp object. There were also signs of…” Ana pressed her lips together, side-eyeing the human in the cage, “penetration.”

Castiel frowned. “From another human?”

Ana shook her head sadly, and Castiel’s face twisted in shock. He’d heard of some sordid things happening in hell but on this plane? Castiel found himself crouching down next to her to get a better look at the creature in the cage. He had light, speckled skin and sandy hair. Castiel tapped lighting on one of the bars, trying to draw the human’s attention and his head turned a fraction before snapping resolutely towards the back of the cage again.

“Come on, Dean. Let Cas see your face, please? You have such a lovely face.”

Dean spit out something that sounded hateful, his low voice rumbling in his chest as he remained seated with his back to them. Ana sighed, reaching for the keys at her belt. Castiel was distracted by her standing up, but his head whipped back to the cage when he saw movement inside, the human scrambling to his feet and lowering himself in a tense crouch.

Ana opened the top of the cage and poked her head over the side. “Dean, I’m going to lift you out. I’m going to ask you not to struggle beause I don’t want to drop you and hurt you.” His head was tilted up, looking into Ana’s face with intelligent eyes, and Castiel wondered just how much his small brain could process. “You’re a strong guy, you know?” Ana reached down with both hands, and Dean back pedaled a bit, eyes shooting over to Castiel as if debating whether he should resist or allow himself to be removed from the cage. In the moment it took him to decide Ana had hooked her hands under his arms, and he gave a sharp yelp as he was lifted clean off his feet and out of the cage.

Dean immediately began to struggle, and Ana sighed, tightening her grip around his ribs. He huffed out a breath, face twisting in pain. Castiel reached towards them, his brow crinkling in concern. “You’re hurting him!”

Ana looked up at him, but so did the human, his head swiveling on his neck, trying to get a look behind him. “Sometimes you have to or they won’t stop struggling.” She looked down at Dean in her hands, still squirming to get a look behind him. “Do you want to go to Castiel, Dean?”

Ana manhandled him until he was facing away from her, hands still tight around his ribs. Dean had his hands planted against her fingers, pushing and trying to wiggle free, his face turning red. Castiel reached out, turning his hand over, so the flat of his palm floated under his kicking feet, giving him something to brace against. He stopped struggling immediately, the rough soles of his feet lifting and planting again as if testing the sturdiness of his hand.

“May I?” Castiel asked, his eyes snagging on the small man’s and holding, trying to convey that he was not a threat. He lifted his other hand and showed the human his palm. The human looked at it then back at Castiel’s face. He shifted on his feet as he looked to the side, his head bouncing up and down.

“Cas!” Ana exclaimed, and Castiel’s head tipped to the side, watching Dean’s expression change, and he rolled his eyes with a huff. “I think that means yes! When they do that with their heads!” Ana bounced her head up and down and giggled.

Castiel ignored her, one hand remaining firm under Dean’s feet as his other moved closer, sliding against Ana’s as she loosened her grip, and Castiel was surprised at the softness of the human’s torso, the tickle of hair under his arm, a little damp. Castiel’s thumb began to press to Dean’s chest, but the human jerked back, nearly losing his footing as he fell back against Castiel’s fingers that now curled around his torso.

Castiel immediately relaxed his grip, holding his thumb steady near the human’s ribs, and looked from the human’s hands to his thumb, trying to get his message across. Dean’s eyes narrowed with distrust, bringing a hand up slow to close over the top of Castiel’s thumb as if it were a guard rail. Ana’s hands hovered around them still, but her eyes were sparkling, her mouth pulled in a wide smile.

Castiel was very careful and moved very slowly as he pulled Dean closer towards him, feeling the man pressing back against the fingers that supported his back. He was heavy, broad-chested and Castiel guessed about 6 feet tall as he determined he matched the length of Castiel’s torso. Castiel studied his face, discovering his eyes were green, something he hadn’t seen in a human before. The speckles across his shoulders and back also dusted across his nose and less densely across his chest. Castiel gently moved his thumb to rub against Dean’s tummy, finding it soft, and Dean’s face twisted in anger, a litany of low chatters coming from his full lips. Castiel bit his lip on a laugh.

“Is he intact?” Castiel questioned, head tilting to look at his penis and received another offended squawk from the human, one of his small hands going to cover himself again.

“He is yes. Though good luck trying to milk him. Balthazar found someone interested in him for studding since he’s so handsome but it took three techs to hold him down and they had to use the electrosimulator to get the sample. Honestly, it took him awhile to recover after that. Given the previous abuse I wouldn’t recommend trying again.”

Castiel’s brows furrowed, looking at Dean again and finding his eyes were on the door. Castiel felt his little feet adjust against his palm. Before he had the chance to bolt, Castiel brought him to his chest, the soft skin of his forehead colliding with Castiel’s collarbone, and Dean’s muffled chatters of indignation were screamed into Castiel’s shirt.

Castiel’s forearm went under Dean’s rear, supporting his weight - he was two hundred pounds at least - while his other hand hovered near his back but not touching. Dean looked up into Castiel’s face, lips still moving as he gave Castiel a rapid-fire dressing down. Something about his face made Castiel melt a bit, fond in a way that he’d never really felt before.

Dean had finally stopped squawking, his brow relaxing as he continued to look up into Castiel’s face. Castiel let his hand press gently against Dean’s back, feeling him jump and look around, muscles tensing. Castiel let the heat of it sink into the human’s skin, watching as confusion shifted across his features before a tense look of melancholy settled there, his eyes looking longingly at the door to the shop. Castiel allowed his hand to move up and down Dean’s back, three times and the human jumped at first but seemed to tolerate the touch without complaint after that.

“What do I need to do?” Castiel asked, his thumb stroking up and down between Dean’s shoulder blades, and he felt the man arch, watched his eyelids flutter before looking up into Castiel’s face wide-eyed. Castiel did it again, and Dean’s eyes went half-lidded, so he continued the gentle pressure against the tight muscles there. He looked at Ana, “To take him home. What do I need to do?”

Ana let out a delighted squeal, causing Dean to jerk from his half doze and press closer to Castiel’s chest before immediately locking his arms against him and pushing back with all his might. Castiel let him lean against his hand, allowing him to get as far away from Cas as he could without falling backward out of his arms. Dean seemed appeased by this, peering up at Castiel skeptically.

“I’ll get the paperwork started.” Ana said and grabbed a sheet of paper from the rack by the cages. “Here is a list of first time pet owner supplies. Everything you need is over there.” Ana pointed across the store before she placed a hand on Castiel’s bicep. “I knew you’d be a good fit for him. He’s sweet when he’s not being an asshole.” Ana pressed three fingers to the top of Dean’s head and rubbed, receiving a shout as the human slapped her hands away.

Castiel chuckled but immediately tried to pass it off as a cough when Dean looked up at him, betrayed. Castiel shifted Dean on his arm, Dean looking around wildly and seeing that Castiel was only taking the paper from Ana, his hands curled against Castiel’s shirt, hanging on as he leaned to look at what was on the paper. Castiel’s head tilted to the side.

“Does he read?”

Ana let out a bright burst of laugher. “Oh come on humans are smart but not that smart.”

Castiel wandered over to the human supplies, eyes scanning the shelves, not sure where to start. He looked down at the paper in his hand, and Dean twisted his head to look at it too though he seemed frustrated by what he saw.

Clothing - Humans are very susceptible to climate changes and must be kept warm in the cold and cool in the heat. Some humans can be taught to dress and undress themselves as well as handle their own waste management.

Castiel looked at Dean, who was looking up at him as if trying to read his face, glancing down at the paper now and again. Castiel sighed and shook out the page, reading on.

Bathing Supplies - Humans should be bathed at least once a week but can be bathed as frequently as every day, and any time they get dirty. Clean skin with a warm washcloth, applying soap to underarms, genitals, and feet specifically to prevent unpleasant odor. Hair may need a separate specialty soap if your human exhibits aggressive scratching behavior or a flaking scalp. Lotion is recommended to soften skin and keep it from cracking in cold weather.

Bedding - Though they don’t nest, humans do prefer soft, warm bedding in a dark room for sleep. Many owners allow their humans to sleep with them in their resting quarters, especially if they are anxious or distressed. WARNING: SLEEP DEPRIVATION IN HUMANS CAN BE FATAL.

“Well that’s enough of that,” Castiel muttered, crumpling the paper, and Dean looked up at him before they both gazed at the wall of human clothing.

Castiel grabbed something at random and held it up to Dean, who made a face and shoved it away, chattering angrily. Castiel looked at the garment then looked at Dean again, confused. “It’s very soft.”

Castiel took the hem and rubbed it against Dean’s bicep, but Dean jerked away and chattered again, pointing at the offensive object and jutting his chin out and looking left then right, then left again. Finally, he sighed and leaned back, pointing between his legs.

Castiel looked at the garment and lifted the hem. “It’s open at the bottom. Plenty of room for that.” Castiel nodded, and Dean shook his head more adamantly. Pointing at himself and looking left then right in rapid succession. He craned his neck, and that’s when Castiel noticed Ana approaching with a clipboard. Dean’s hand banged against Castiel’s chest, and Castiel looked down. Dean continued to chatter, pointing at the garment, then pointing at Ana and nodding.

“I think he wants you to wear this,” Castiel said with a chuckle, and Ana let out a soft “awww” reaching to pat Dean’s head.

“Thank you Dean but I think it would look much better on you.” She mimicked the bobbing motion with her own head, and Dean cocked his head to the side as if trying to decipher what she’d said. She took the garment and held it up to Dean again, and he shoved her hands away. He looked up at Cas, schooling his expression into one of patience and Castiel was absolutely charmed, watching him as he struggled to communicate.

Dean slowed his chatter using both hands to gesture at the garment and then gesture at Ana, bobbing his head emphatically. Both Angels looked at each there. “That means yes right?”

“Yeah,” Ana’s brows creased, watching Dean point to himself with one hand and Castiel with the other.

Dean then pointed at the garment and jerked his head from side to side vigorously. Ana brought a hand up in alarm, cupping the back of his head to get him to stop. Dean slapped at her and scowled. Castiel squinted at him.

“If… if up and down means yes. Do you think side to side means…. No?”

Ana blinked at him. “Maybe?” She shrugged. “Who knows. Get that for him it’s cute.” Ana moved to take it, and Dean let out a sharp sound before his head hung back on his neck and his arms flopped at his sides in despair.

“Hang on,” Castiel took the garment from Ana and held it up. Dean glared at it. Castiel slowly moved his head from side to side, and Dean’s face lit up, hands pounding against Castiel’s chest as he nodded back. “I don’t think he likes it.”

Ana snorted a laugh, and they both watched as he continued to gesture at the garment, nodding at Ana and shaking his head when pointing to himself. “Well he seems to like it for me.”

“Maybe because you’re female.”

Ana scoffed. “Don’t be silly. Garments are gender neutral.”

“To us,” Castiel replied before turning his gaze to the wall of clothing again. He found a similar garment to the one Ana held and grabbed it, bringing it closer.

Dean started shouting crabbily again, shaking his head hard, and Castiel held up a hand. Dean stilled, giving Castiel his full attention. Castiel held the garment towards Ana and bobbed his head up and down. Dean mimicked him. Castiel brought the garment closer to Dean and moved his head side to side as Dean did the same. Dean’s face did that thing again, where his lips pulled back, and he showed his perfect teeth, eyes crinkling at the corners. He looked happy.

“I think I’m going to let him pick.” Castiel returned both garments to the wall, and Ana shook her head as Castiel brought Dean closer, and the human lunged for a soft flannel button-down.

“Barely been a human owner 15 minutes and already he rules your life.” Ana smiled fondly as Castiel ignored her to find the correct size, holding it up to the human who stretched his torso tall to help. “I have never seen a human do that before.”

“They’re very smart,” Castiel murmured, handing Dean the correct size shirt before even attempting to take the other. Dean relinquished it, holding the flannel to be his against his chest as he leaned and made grabbing gestures at denim pants. Castiel snorted. “Denim? Really?”

Dean looked up at Castiel, perplexed, before giving a cautious nod and jabbed a finger towards the pants. Castiel grabbed a few, and Dean accepted them into his arms before craning his neck to try and see over Castiel’s shoulder. He tugged on the lapel of Castiel’s coat and pointed behind him. Castiel obliged, shifting backward to allow Dean to look at the next column of clothing.

Ana sighed. “Cas if you let him pick you’ll be here all day.”

Castiel watched as Dean touched different things and chattered, eyes flicking to Castiel now and then. Castiel smiled, and when Dean’s gaze caught on his again, he stopped, eyes cautious before he allowed one side of his lips to tip up in a smile of his own.

“I’ve got time.”

#suptober20 #suptober #supernatural #spn fic #destiel #fanfic: supernatural #writing by me

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firstfootingscotland · 5 years ago

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Bogha-frois Conversations: Joseph Peach

Early this year during Glasgow’s Celtic Connections Festival I had the pleasure of joining a host of incredible LGBT+ artists for a performance and a panel around the theme of Bogha-frois: LGBT+ Voices in Folk. A brainchild of Pedro Cameron (Man of the Minch), Bogha-frois began as a workshop at the Scottish Storytelling Centre and takes its name from the Gaelic word for “rainbow.” The energy around Bogha-frois has enacted a metamorphosis - far beyond a standalone workshop, panel, or critically-acclaimed gig, Bogha-frois is a movement celebrating gender and sexual diversity within traditional and folk music, song, and dance in Scotland. Following the events in Glasgow, I wanted to continue these conversations and proposed a series of monthly blog posts. It’s hope this series will be a place for dialogue around the intersections of traditional arts, identity, and each artists’ path as a LGBT+ person. Our final Bogha-frois conversationalist is Joseph Peach!

Tell me a story... what was a moment when you felt both your identity as a traditional musician and your identity as a LGBTQIA+ person were in focus? (1)

This is such a rare thing, so far at least. Until very recently, I haven't really seen even that a meeting of these two aspects of myself might be necessary, or indeed possible. The Bogha-frois gig at Celtic Connections was certainly one of these times though, it was an amazing and beautiful celebration. I was really surprised by how profoundly moving it felt to be part of a big group of LGBTQIA+ folkies playing music together, and for this aspect of our identities to be what had brought us there. Thinking about it, music- traditional music in particular, has so far been the biggest factor in making my identity, far more than the fact of being an LGBTQIA+ person. I think that's for a couple of reasons. I've been playing music since before I can remember, but I've only been aware and accepted that I was gay for a comparatively short amount of time. I've found understanding and reconciling this fact to be a process that is much more complex, and definitely still ongoing. To me, being a musician is everything: It's a passion, art, creating, a purpose in life, and way of life. If it was only a job, I'd be doing something else like practicing law, and being paid far more to work far more regular hours. More than ever before, the past few years have been a time of discovery creatively; finding worlds of artists and work to listen to, read, see and watch; things to admire, and be moved and inspired by. They have also been a time of doing more learning, playing, and making music. And what I’m really starting to understand, from work that inspire me, and the work that I make, is that for this whole notion of doing something like this only works if everything feeds in quite unfiltered. In a very roundabout way, I guess what I'm trying to say is that as getting comfy with the LGBTQIA+ aspect of myself continues, that of course there needs to be much more space and consideration for these two identities overlap.

How do you identify? What are the pronouns, descriptors or other words you like to use, if any, to describe yourself in regard to your LGBTQIA+ status.

I'm a (mostly) gay, cisgendered man I suppose, and the pronouns I use are he/him/his.

(photo of Joseph Peach by Somhairle MacDonald)

Talk about your perceptions of LGBTQIA+ identity (both yours and others) within your experience playing traditional music in Scotland.

Perception, especially self-perception is something I find very hard. I'm prone to being quite negative in how I see myself, and massively overthinking (usually in a negative way) my own notion of how other people see me- as a musician, person, and everything else. This is probably going to be a bit of a left field (and very long) answer, but relevant I think. It’s quite telling that when first reading the question that my mind immediately went towards anxiety. I think that for me, so much of what causes and triggers anxiety is to do with being a musician, and being gay. So, the musician thing. To me it is such a deeply personal thing, playing an instrument. How and why you do it is something wrapped up in the very fabric of you. And the nature of doing it for a living is one of always putting yourself out there- putting this really personal thing in all sorts of situations where people can hear and judge it. This is a bit terrifying sometimes, and it becomes a challenge not to be totally overwhelmed by the swirling thoughts that come with thinking about it too much- mainly that I’m doing a shit job, and that the people around me can see and hear that. This can present a major problem, but thankfully not all of the time. One of the things I love the most about the bands and collaborators with which I’m most regularly and seriously involved, are the levels of friendship, support, understanding, and trust which make these emotions fade in to the background, and make the space to focus on the things that are actually important. It’s all a question of perspective about perception I think, and there’s a real challenge in that.

And the gay thing. To my knowledge, there’s never been a better time to be LGBTQIA+, and arguably, in terms of rights, protection, and legislation, you’d struggle to find a better place than Scotland. Sadly, you don't have to look too far, to see very present, worrying and heartbreaking examples where being LGBTQIA+ is literally a threat to your life. So I’m extremely lucky to be where I am, when I am. In the great scheme of things though this comfort and protection is a very recent thing. Even in this progressive country we’re emerging from centuries of this sort of otherness being feared and abhorred- an abomination and illegal; something society said to be ashamed of. Thankfully, for all sorts of reasons that I really don’t know enough about, it feels that as society we’re moving away from this pretty quickly, and have been for a while. But certainly when I was growing up (and I’m sure being from a small rural place is part of it), I always had the impression that being some form of LGBTQIA+, (probably not described in such sympathetic terms) was something to be ashamed of. I was told that, saw it in the complete absence of any such people in the community, and heard it in the way such folk were talked about. Of course it’s a problem far bigger than that specific place. A problem it’s hard to see an end to until we stop raising children to expect that they’ll be straight and cisgendered.

I’m really interested in the Suzuki method. Much of it is based on the notion that it is possible to learn music in the same deeply natural way one learns their native language- by immersion, observation and impersonation. And it's so true- we do learn our first language like this. As a child, you become an expert in speaking your language through this deep and unconscious process. By this same principle, I managed to pick up a whole bunch of shame about being gay. My teenage years were spent agonizing about it, resenting it, and feeling quite isolated because of it; worrying about how others would see me, and tying myself in knots about how I saw myself. These things are ongoing I suppose- it's a lot to unlearn. The understanding and perspective that time and learning brings are hugely helpful, but working on my perception of myself in this way is definitely also still a work in progress.

vimeo

(trailer for Joseph’s forthcoming record Air Iomall with fiddler Charlie Grey made in collaboration with filmmaker Hamish Macleod)

In what ways do you feel your identity as a LGBTQIA+ person and a traditional musician intersect, overlap, engage?

I’m really attracted to music that's quite absolute, just existing to be a wee world of its own, on its own terms, and that makes you go fuck, that’s amazing as an entity in its own right, not as an abstraction of something else. To me that’s lots of piano music, classical things, electronic things, and of course, much of traditional music.

My attitude until quite recently has been that it'd be hard to make any sort of explicit overlap between this sort of music and anything LGBTQIA+. If it is just music for its own sake, how can you make it queer, straight, or anything else for that matter? This is maybe the wrong way of looking at it though- if everything feeds in to music in some way, so being LGBTQIA+ must, even in small ways.

One place this is maybe quite concretely the case is in how I speak and move. It’s an idea that’s crossed my mind quite recently, when I was watching back a film that involves a lot of chat. I don’t often hear myself speak outside of my own head, so watching I was quite struck by how my voice sounded- it was quite camp. I don't mean that negatively- camp as an insult is bullshit from a toxic notion of heteronormative masculinity.

And I notice it too when I see myself playing the piano, the same sort of campness. Granted, I think being quite anxious can make me pretty hyper-aware, so maybe it's not so obvious to other folk. But playing music is a physical thing, so it’s maybe actually really nice that there are ways using my body to do that, or my voice to speak about it that come from an LGBTQIA+ identity. Noticing and valuing these small things already feels like something quite profound.

Talk about your experience connecting with other LGBTQIA+ folks both inside and outside the traditional arts.

I'm extremely lucky in the community around me in Glasgow- I feel very part of something musically and socially. For me, connecting with LGBTQIA+ people is never something I've really consciously sought out- as with everyone else, it just happens over the course of day to day life. Other than accidentally ending up at Pride in Vienna a few years ago, and deliberately going to the Glasgow one once, the Bogha-frois gig was the only time really I’ve been involved in a gathering centered around LGBTQIA+ identity, and certainly a first time it’s been about music. And there was something unexpectedly and completely amazing about that.

If you’re comfortable sharing, talk about any incidents of homophobia or transphobia that you’ve witnessed both inside and outside the traditional arts.

I've been very lucky, sheltered, or possibly both in how little of this I’ve experienced, to my face at least. Within the scene within which I live and work, it's barely ever more than some off-colour jokes. When I was young, I think there was a lot of homophobic language, in school and in the community in which I lived- again this rarely amounted to more than off-colour jokes, but sometimes you’d know the sentiment was serious.

In all honesty, the worst homophobia I've experienced was probably levelled at me by me, during the younger years of coming to terms with my sexuality. That feels like quite a drastic thing to write, and when I think back to that time my inclination is to downplay it, but this is definitely no overstatement.

How do you see the traditional arts changing in regard to LGBTQIA+ people? What are the further changes you would like to see?

Malin Lewis said something really interesting in their answer to this question, about a link between some of what we’re talking about here, and the much needed discussion around women in traditional music that's been a big topic in trad scene over the past couple of years. My mind was really blown when the conversation started a couple of years ago. I had so little idea of the privilege I was enjoying in comparison to my female counterparts. It was quite an eye opener in a much wider way towards the workings of privilege in the world around us. It's kind of everywhere- systemic and entrenched societally, but also very individual- on the scales of privilege and disadvantage we all win and lose in different ways. It's a bit of a fucked situation, and I don’t know what the answer is, but what I don't think helps is denial. I think the most useful thing, for our own folky world, but also in the widest possible way, is simply acknowledging the privileges you have, being aware that they might be what allows you to occupy your space, and that they might well create a barrier that prevents other folk from also occupying that space.

You can learn more about Joseph and his music at www.joseph-peach.com.

First Footing is a collaboration between dancer and dance researcher Nic Gareiss, the Traditional Dance Forum of Scotland, University of Edinburgh Moray House School of Education, and the School of Scottish Studies with support from Creative Scotland. For engagement opportunities check out the First Footing website.

(1) Following methodology developed by Fiona Buckland in her book Impossible Dance: Club Culture and Queer World-making, I began each conversation asking artists to tell me a story. This, Buckland reminds us, redistributes significance to the voice of the artist, rather than the anthropologist/researcher/interviewer. In Buckland’s words, “the meanings they made from the practices are more crucial than whatever meaning I impose with the theoretical tools in my standard issue doctoral utility belt.” (Buckland 2002, p. 11) This feels incredibly important when collaborating with folks whose voices have so often been underheard or marginalized.

#joseph peach #bogha-frois #lgbtq #lgbtqia #queer #piano #accordian #scotland #scottish traditional music #gaelic #charlie grey #rainbow #fiona buckland #trad #fiddle

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kaliiwashere · 6 years ago

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lilithhawthorne · 8 years ago

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Title: Blood of the Brotherhood Fandom: Mass Effect: Andromeda Relationship: Sara Ryder x Jaal Rating: M Chapter: 2/? Fandom: ME:A Cross posted on A03 / FFN First // Previous / Next

Huge shout out to @thesassblr for editing and helping to turn some of my weird sentences into real words!

Snippets of conversation invaded her dreams.

“This is not going as planned.”

She was lost in a cave, or maybe it was a never ending series of tunnels designed to keep her angry and confused. The floor was slick and spotted with puddles, making it difficult for her to keep her footing. The sounds of her feet sloshing as she searched for a way out echoed all around her.

“It was a bad plan to begin with.”

Should she go left or right? Hadn’t she been down this tunnel before? It was dark and she was cold. Her suit had been stripped away piece by piece, leaving her shivering in her thin, Initiative issued uniform. Out of the corner of her eye she tracked the movement of her crew as they followed her. They ghosted through walls or fell through the ground if she tried to reach out to them.

“I told you this was a bad fucking idea,” Liam said. His lips moved out of synch and he smiled.

“And I told you to stand down! If she dies, I swear…“ she couldn’t understand what else Drack meant to say, his words trailing off into a series of elaborate threats.

“She’s not going to die. Thankfully you’re a terrible shot, but you all are driving me mad. I’ll call you as soon as she wakes.” Lexi tapped away at her data pad, not bothering to look up. “That’s it, Ryder,” she cooed, “you’ll be just fine, just fine….”

Darkness and silence welcomed her back into their midst.

Ryder raised a hand to block the light shining in her face.

“Aaaaand she’s awake! Easy now - here, let me help you up.” Rough, cold hands slipped under her arm, helping her to sit up despite the cramp that numbed her right side.

It took a moment for her to adjust to the light, and sitting up straight was a stomach clenching experience in nausea. She counted footsteps as they receded, trying to pull herself out of a fog that clouded every sense. Once the world stopped spinning and she could think beyond her rolling stomach, she assessed her surroundings with a shrewd eye.

First, she noticed how small the room was; crates and boxes were stacked all the way to the ceiling, with some tipped on their side to fill every inch of space. It was an organized mess, everything arranged specifically to leave the center of the room clear.

Second, she noticed the door, only a few strides away from the foot of the cot she was sitting on. The light was green, the hum of power flowing through it just barely audible in the silence.

Third, she noticed the smell and gagged immediately. Her already rolling stomach pitched in protest. It was a thick, ripe smell that was cloying in its overwhelming power. It reminded her of boot camp, about three weeks in, when the smell of everyone’s rank bodies had saturated itself into the walls of the bunker.

Someone laughed, a high pitched laugh that made Ryder think of a storybook princess. “I’m sorry, you’ll get used to it eventually. It always smells like that.”

Ryder swiveled her head to search for the owner of that musical laugh. She locked onto the tail end of a thick, blonde braid and followed it up to the source. A woman stood with only her profile visible, her face intently studying a terminal, her fingers moving tapping a rhythmic pace against the keyboard. Her foot tapped in tune to an unheard song.

Wearing her best stink eye, Ryder cleared her throat, hoping to warrant enough attention that the woman looked at her. All she got was a raised eyebrow and a slight head tilt. “I’m listening,” the woman assured her.

When sulking in the silence warranted no additional response, Ryder gave up and asked a neutral question: “Where am I?”

“You are in my office slash operating room slash med bay.” The woman laughed again and finally turned to face Ryder. Her cheeks and nose were red, like she had recently given them a good scrub and accidentally took a little more off than just dirt. And while her broad shoulders gave a hint of what she used to look like, she had long since withered away, her arms and legs too long and spindly, her collarbone prominently displayed in a loose fitting tank top.

Despite herself, Ryder found it easy to relax in the warmth of those brown eyes and couldn’t help but return the woman’s toothy smile.

Then she remembered the way Jaal’s voice cracked with anguish as he dove from cover, the look of rage on his face a fraction of a second before she felt the hot tendrils of pain.

More than just the memory of pain followed. Gasping for air, her lungs constricting, she struggled to keep from crying out. She ran her hands over her body, exploring her sides and lower back, trying to find a source of the pain.

“Oh, easy there!” The doctor pulled Ryder’s hands away, squeezing them in a grip that felt too strong for such a slender frame. “You’re okay… but I think the sedatives are wearing off. You were shot, do you remember?”

Ryder no longer trusted those eyes. She wrestled her hands free and shoved at the woman hard enough to send her to the ground. “Yeah I remember being shot!” she screeched, her pain and panic mingling to create a toxic feeling that ate away at her composure.

Not willing to lose the advantage, she rolled from the bed and stumbled towards the door. The doctor yelled something, her words too jumbled and rushed to make sense. It was either a plea for Ryder to come back or a plea for help.

“Open you piece of shit!” She pressed against the door, struggling as if she could push herself through solid metal if she only tried hard enough. As soon as there was a space big enough for her to get through she darted out, her knees and elbows banging against the edges of the door as she did. There would be time later to figure out where she was and what she needed to do. Right now she needed a place to hide.

“Not so fast, girly.”

Thick arms wrapped around her hips, her captor hoisting her in the air with not even a grunt to suggest it was difficult. She dug her nails into hairy forearms and braced her feet against the wall, pushing off with as much force as she could manage. Whoever was holding onto her tripped and fell backwards, but their grip was still tight enough that she went with them.

The sensation of skin tearing along her lower back startled her and she felt something warm soak into the fabric of her thin tee. She writhed and gnashed her teeth, clawing at her captor in another attempt to free herself.

“Stop!” The familiar voice of the doctor floated down the hall towards them, her plea almost drowned out by the sound of her feet clunking as she stumbled towards the struggling pair. “You’re going to hurt her Murphy, let her go.”

Murphy did as he was bid, though it was a not so friendly shove that sent her rolling to the ground. “Doc, she nearly broke my neck!” he whined as he climbed to his feet.

“Oh boo hoo,” Ryder mocked as she struggled to find her own footing, backing up to put distance between the two of them. “That’s what you get for grabbing me like that.”

“Oh yeah? Well that’s what ya get fo’ runnin’!”

“Oh, well, I guess that’s what you get for - “

“This conversation is over,” the doctor cut in, inserting herself physically between the two. Ryder had puffed her chest out to make herself look bigger, finally making use of her stink eye. Murphy, who was as thick as a Krogan and likely just as thorny, didn’t look too put out.

The doctor took the time to give them both a withering look before turning her back to Murphy, her focus softening as she looked Ryder up and down. “Did you feel your stitches rip?” she asked, an obvious hint of worry in her voice.

Stubborn and distrustful, Ryder crossed her arms over her chest and scuffed her foot against the ground. “No,” she lied. Like hell she was going to let that woman touch her again.

Clearly not fooled, the other woman merely tilted her head and offered another toothy grin. “That’s good. I was able to staunch the bleeding and we had enough medi-gel to spare that it healed almost completely. It just needed a little help.” She pressed two fingers together to mime skin knitting back together and winked.

“Waste, if ya ask me,” Murphy mumbled behind her.

That was a shared sentiment, although Ryder did a good job of looking offended by the assumption she was a waste. Medi-gel had made up a sizable percentage of packed medical supplies, but the goal had never been to bring enough to sustain the effort, only enough to see them through until they could make more planetside. With a different source of resources to draw from, the Andromeda quick fix gel was sadly lackluster when compared to its predecessor.

“Please, if you would,” the doctor took a step back and motioned for Ryder to follow. “Lonny is waiting for us. He will be able to answer your questions.”

Not waiting for Ryder’s response, the doctor turned on her heel and bustled down the hall, though she slowed down to give Murphy a playful pinch on his arm. As an afterthought she called over her shoulder, “My name is Lia but you can just call me Doc. Everyone does.”

Ryder considered her options. She could try to run again, but the pain in her back was quickly becoming more than a minor annoyance, and it was doubtful she would make it very far. Murphy might not be so gentle next time and he could easily squish her head between his massive, hairy knuckled hands.

On the other hand, she could follow through with the plan that had led her down this road to begin with. It would be in her best interest - both in the short term and if there was ever any hope of there being a long term - to con Lonny into thinking she would be willing to work with them. She started out after Lia, stopping briefly when she crossed paths with Murphy. “Don’t call me girly,” she snapped.

Murphy grunted, keeping his arms crossed and his head low.

Trailing after the fast walking doctor, she committed every turn they took and every door they passed to memory. They had yet to pass by a window, but the floors and walls were too quiet to be a ship, so she knew they had to be grounded.

Lia finally came to a halt and waited patiently for Ryder to catch up. “Now that we’re clear of Murphy, I should tell you that I know your stitches tore. Would you let me look at them, please?” She pulled something out of her pocket that looked like a syringe and balanced it on her open palm. “I only stitched you up because I needed to wait a few hours to administer another one of these, but it’s been long enough that I can give you a quick jab and be done.”

“Jab is a real unfriendly term, Doc,” Ryder said gruffly, her shoulders raised in agitation. “Is that the official medical vernacular?“ Why couldn’t this woman be a normal evil doctor, one that left her bleeding and hurt?

“Out here it is.” Lia tossed her braid over a shoulder and took a step forward. When Ryder didn’t run or put up her hands for a fight, Lia motioned with fingers for her to spin around.

Ryder did as she was bid and rolled her shirt up to expose her back to an alleged doctor who was approaching with what she claimed to be a canister of medi-gel. Worst case scenario she got stabbed in the spine, but at least then all the confusion about her motives would be resolved.

“This is going to be cold.”

Ryder twitched when she felt Lia’s hand alight on her waist. “Your hands or the gel?”

Lia laughed apologetically while spreading a thin layer of gel over the puckered, angry looking wound. “Both, sorry. Well, that’s done then. You’ll have a scar, I think, but there was no internal bleeding. You’ll be sore for the next few days and you’ll need to - “

More aggressively than needed, Ryder spun around and tugged her shirt back down. She held out a hand to stop Lia and motioned to the door behind her with a jerk of her head. “I don’t need medical advice. Let’s get this over with.”

A flash of - discomfort? regret? Ryder couldn’t name it - crossed Lia’s features before disappearing behind an apple cheeked smile. "Of course. Let’s go see Lonny.”

Turning back towards the door, she pressed her hand against the screen of a terminal, tapping her foot again as she waited for the scan to complete. The door slid open and the two stepped over the threshold, each wearing a similar look of glum foreboding now that they thought the other couldn’t see.

This room at least didn’t smell as bad, though it featured worse company. The short man who had faced off against Ryder was seated at a desk, his deep set eyes already tracking Ryder’s movements towards him. There would be less confusion about his motives concerning her; a pistol took up a corner of desk space, his hands hands folded neatly next to it.

“Ryder,” he said, inclining his head to a chair across from him.

She took his direction and perched on the edge of her seat, feet flat on the ground, elbows on knees.

This room was small too, although poorly lit and nearly empty. Shadows darkened the corners and creeped into the pockets of space between two, waist high lamps. One side of Lonny’s face was dappled with shadows, the poor lighting emphasizing the sharp jut of his cheekbones. Ryder could see a nick over his lip, the only mar on his otherwise smooth, hairless face.

“I think,” he began slowly, “that I should begin by apologizing.”

“Oof, I might need more than that. Are you sorry that you tricked me into landing on an asteroid with a fake distress signal and then tried to kill me, or are you sorry that you shot me and almost killed me?”

“Lia assures me that you were never in any real danger of dying. Nothing vital was hit.” He winced, his words unconvincing even to his own ears. “I don’t have any interest in harming you. What happened was an unfortunate consequence. Our situation has become dire.”

“Excuse me if I find that hard to believe.” Ryder glowered and folded her arms across her chest. “If you really had any interest in ‘working’ with me, you could have approached me like a normal person. I have an email address.”

He shook his head. “That was not an option. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about the way things happened.” A terse pause followed and he chewed on his next words before speaking. “The other two made it back to the ship unharmed. I kept my word.”

Relief flooded through her on a current too powerful to hide. When she felt her jaw start to tremble she clenched her teeth, schooling her face back into a mask of disinterest. “I guess I can’t be too upset that you shot me. After all, I didn’t explicitly say that you couldn’t. I should have listed it with my demands. What a learning experience this has all been.”

The carefully constructed air of friendliness that Lonny had colored his tone with leeched away as his face fell into a mask of fury. “You have no idea what we’ve been going through down here!” he hissed at her. “I’m sure Addison and Tann were happy they were able to cast so many of us off the station, it sure cut down on costs.”

“Save your - “

“Shut up!” he roared, rising with such force that his chair shrieked in protest as it scraped across the floor. “You don’t get an opinion on this. You weren’t there, you didn’t see what we did. That hasn’t stopped you from taking up the Nexus’ banner, though, has it?”

He crossed from behind the desk and made his way towards Ryder. Before she could rise and put distance between them, he was standing over her, his hands pressing into her shoulders to hold her in place.

“I’ve been watching you, Pathfinder Ryder.” The word Pathfinder slid off his tongue, his mouth puckering as he tasted how sour the word was. “You’ve brought hope to a lot of people. I think it’s about time you share the vision with us.”

Despite how much she wanted to pull herself free, stand and defend herself, she stayed seated, forcing her body to relax beneath the clap of his hands. She spoke around her clenched teeth, the words hissing in the air. “What do you want? Credits? Supplies? Tann won’t pay for me.”

“I want,” he said with a shake, “hope.”

#me:a fan fiction #mass effect andromeda #jaal x ryder #blood of the brotherhood #female ryder #stuff i wrote

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