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thisaccisdead · 4 years ago

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montreal - roman hurt/comfort

pairing: this was written to all be platonic prinxiety, but can definitely be interpreted romantically !

warnings: unconventional self harm, non-graphic descriptions of wounds/injury

summary: a post-POF roman hurt/comfort fic in january 2021? yes <3

word count: 3.2k

notes: large portions of this were salvaged from one (1) night last summer at 4am when i was having a . time. the rest has been mainly recently written before i go to bed, with some extra bits added during my history classes B)) also shout out to [REDACTED]. u may not read this but if u do, i hope u know who u are & ilu

Virgil had been trying to calm himself down for the better part of an hour, as soon as they got back from the wedding fiasco; and he was doing a relatively okay job. Considering the circumstances, at least. Or so he thought, when he registered a spike in Thomas’s anxiety. This only served to make Virgil more anxious, because he had thought he had been doing well—until, he realized it wasn’t anxiety, not exactly, not fully—and it wasn’t coming from him.

Once he'd figured that out, it wasn't hard to trace the feeling to the imagination. He paused at the door. If this was where the strongest negative emotions were coming from, he already knew which side this was about. And could he really be surprised? Roman had wanted that callback for so long. Even at the court case, even when Roman gave Thomas his sentence, Virgil knew it killed him. And Virgil didn't do anything. Because he was so fucking scared of Thomas being bad, or of Janus winning, or something, and now whatever was going on was his fault, and--

And now was not the time for these thoughts. He breathed in. He opened the door.

Immediately, he was coughing out soot, heat burned his cheeks, his eyes blurred with protective tears forming against the smoke. It was hard to see, let alone process, what was happening. Then, he caught sight of the Dragon Witch. And he caught sight of—

“Roman!” Virgil choked on the yell, coughing again.

Obviously Roman couldn’t hear him from the distance, especially considering the brutal roar of the creature. Adrenaline kicked in, and as Virgil began to sprint towards the prince, he took in the entirety of the scene with alarm. Roman was...fighting, sure, except that Virgil had seen him fight before, and this... wasn’t right. Roman bested manticore-chimeras like it was a breeze, he HAD bested the Dragon Witch herself in every form she took, “just for training.” He always moved like he was in a ballet, not a battle, like it was more for show than challenge, and now...

Virgil watched Roman fall to a hard swish of the creature’s tail, and stay there. He almost expected the Dragon Witch to take mercy, or at least, to accept an early victory. But he watched her rear back, raise a taloned hand, the magma-red in her throat glowing brighter and brighter—just as Virgil got close enough to let fight win over flight.

Virgil crashed into Roman; they rolled just far enough that the swipe of claws only ripped the edge of Virgil’s jacket.

Immediate danger out of the way, Virgil clenched his eyes tight, trying to do it how Logan taught him. He found something that didn’t make sense--the grass. The grass was dry, therefore it should have been burning, but it wasn’t. He took that foothold to dispel all the fantastical elements of the scene, Dragon Witch and all her carnage blinking from existence. The new calm of the scene was jarring.

That just left a great big field, Virgil, and one absolute dumbass.

"What the fuck, Princey?!"

Virgil’s voice was distorted with stress, and Roman stared up at him wide-eyed, unsure—even terrified in a way that hurt. Virgil quickly pushed himself up so he wasn't pinning the other. Roman tried to copy this movement, only to groan, start coughing, and fall back again.

“Shit, I—“ Virgil looked at his hands and found red on them, looked at Roman and saw the color painting his chest. “I thought I dispelled all the imaginary stuff, why—?“

“Left brain sides can only dispel so much of what right brain sides feel,” Roman said, voice rough and thin and upsettingly casual, “Since they feel so real to me, you can’t get rid of them.”

“They feel…? Christ, ok, you need a medical kit, uhm—“ Virgil closed his eyes again; he was notoriously shitty at summoning things, and he had to concentrate for this—

“That’s ok; I’ve got it,” Roman said, letting out a quiet hiss as he propped himself up on one arm, and summoned the medical kit with the other, “You can go now.”

Virgil gaped at him in disbelief. When Roman attempted to stand up, and Virgil could no longer deny he wasn’t joking, he exclaimed, “Like Hell am I going, idiot!”

Roman just stared at him, and Virgil cursed under his breath. “Ok ok, let’s just... we should do this in the bathroom, uhm—“

Virgil awkwardly clambered over to Roman again, taking his hand, so he could blink them over together. He knew it would probably be more comfortable for Roman to sink in and out, but considering Virgil wasn’t practiced at that, he wasn’t going to risk screwing it up.

They apparated into the bathtub, and Virgil scrambled up, taking the med kit from Roman's hands.

Ok, ok, now Virgil just had to remember that one time Logan lectured them all on “Side Safety.” He took a shaky breath and washed his hands quickly, before turning back to Roman. He allowed himself to fully assess the prince this time and… Jesus. He was slumped against the back of the tub, having given up his attempts at composure while he thought Virgil wasn’t looking. His litany of scrapes, cuts, bruising, his shallow breathing, and--most of all--the wet, red patch slowly growing on his shirt, sparked renewed panic in Virgil.

“Ok, fuck, ok--let’s do this,” Virgil said, mostly to himself, as he knelt down by Roman to undo his already tattered shirt and take a wet towel to his chest. He had to suck in a breath at the sight of the jagged wound, a nauseous feeling catching up to him.

“You’ve already done a lot, you know,” Roman insisted. “You can--”

“If you tell me to go, Princey, I swear I’ll make these wounds worse myself,” he said, not meaning it in the slightest, which he would assume Roman knew--but the way Roman flinched and shut his mouth told a different story. “Shit, I didn’t mean that. Of course I didn’t mean that!”

Roman glanced away, and Virgil reached to cup his cheek, an instinct he didn’t know he had. Luckily, he caught himself in time to retract his hand. They both avoided eye contact for a second; Virgil cleared his throat; and he reached for the bottle of hydrogen peroxide before pausing. He vaguely recalled Logan mentioning how strong alcohols would only cause more harm, and they should just stick to mild soap instead. He gave the cut a longer look-over—it was certainly not a pretty sight, but probably not as bad as it looked. It was large, but not too deep. Plus, as sides, it would heal itself without needing anything like stitches or professional medical work. The past scars littering Roman’s body were proof of that. Actually--had he always had this many scars? Virgil squinted. How often did he do this?

Virgil finished cleansing and bandaging the wound to the best of his ability, with little talk beyond the occasional, soft “sorry” at Roman’s winces. When he had finished, he gave Roman his hoodie (an action the Prince was too tired to take much notice of), since summoning a new shirt seemed like a waste of whatever energy he had left.

“Ok, Princey, all done. Uhm, are you—how, how are you?” Virgil mentally kicked himself.

A small, bitter smile tugged at Roman’s lips for just a moment. He opened his mouth and then closed it, and finally shrugged. “Thank you for your help.”

It hurt, Virgil realized. Roman’s quiet voice, where near-shouting was his usual speech. His unkempt hair sticking to his forehead, where it was usually styled to be very lightly and intentionally ruffled. The bags beneath his eyes where there was usually concealer. All of it hurt.

Virgil sucked in a breath. “Look, I’m sorry if I’m being annoying, but I hope you know there’s absolutely no way I’m leaving yet.”

“Virgil,” Roman almost said it as a whine, which was closer to his usual style, so Virgil considered it progress.

“Roman,” Virgil deadpanned back.

Roman huffed. “Maybe I need space to really explore my feelings, and you’re actually being a terrible friend right now,” he argued.

“Uh-huh, well being a terrible friend is always my favorite, so,” Virgil leaned down, fumbling slightly as he picked Roman up bridal style, “We’re gonna get you to bed, and you can explore your feelings by sleeping.”

“Great, now you’re damsel-in-distressing me,” Roman said sarcastically, but he leaned his head into Virgil’s chest as he did so, which kind of ruined his point.

“Yeah, yeah. Act more like Megara next time, and maybe it’ll be different.”

•••

Roman groaned upon waking up. His whole body ached, but mainly it was focused around a sharper pain in his chest. He let his eyes flutter open, only to find Virgil staring at him from his desk.

“Ah,” Roman uttered, a jumble of memories from the past few hours returning. They felt foggy and mildly icky, but mainly the pain in them was the numb kind of pain, the tired kind. Really, it was indistinguishable from the dull ache of his bruises and cuts.

“Yeah,” Virgil said, as though he understood, even though he couldn’t possibly. “Uh, wanna talk about it?”

It was clear Virgil felt awkward asking the question. It was unclear whether that was due to his tendency to be embarrassed by everything he said, or—far more likely—that he wanted to stop babying a stupid prince, and just go about his business.

Roman sat up, suppressing a wince as best he could. “Do you want to hear about it?”

“Of course I do.” Virgil said it without an ounce of hesitation. Roman’s breath caught.

“Oh.” Roman shifted slightly over, and Virgil took a seat by him on the bed. “Okay. Uhm. I don’t know, I just—I messed up.” What else was new?

“...What did you mess up?” Virgil asked, with an inkling of suspicion, like he knew what this was about. But it wasn’t that; it wasn’t the callback—that was over and done and dead. Roman had created so many fantasies, so many crazy scenarios where they could somehow still make it in that stupid movie, and it had always filled him with hope or crushing pain or something, but as of this afternoon? He didn’t even care. It didn’t matter.

So, Roman ignored the question, and instead commented, “Janus got accepted.”

“What the fuck.”

Roman observed Virgil’s stricken expression like an unsettling kind of mirror of himself when—

My name is Janus.

“Yeah,” Roman sighed, “I didn’t take it so well either.”

Virgil looked at him for a long moment, seeming to go through several series of emotions, before he was able to ask, “...What happened?”

Roman inhaled sharply. “I was wrong about being wrong about the wedding. Patton was also wrong; Janus was right, and then Patton was right because he wasn’t a total asshole to Janus, and I’m evil; Thomas hates me; whatever, you get it.”

He thought he would break down, saying it, but he felt oddly… fine. He sat, staring at the same spot as he was before, absentmindedly annoyed at the way his bandages itched. The normalcy of the situation almost made it worse. This sucked. This wasn’t even bad.This was the worst he had ever felt.

“Oook,” Virgil said, clearly not knowing where to start, “I—you—what do you mean: Thomas hates you?”

“Thought that one was self-explanatory.”

“He can’t hate you,” Virgil said with a laughable amount of conviction. “You’re still his… y’know.. goals. Desires. Hopes. Whatever. Just because this one didn’t go… perfectly, doesn’t mean you won’t keep—“ he struggled to find the phrasing for a moment— “...fighting, uh, valiantly for Thomas’s dreams!” he attempted at the encouragement with a weak smile.

Roman just shook his head. “No. I don’t know what he wants.”

Virgil’s smile dropped into confusion. “But… you are his wants.”

“That’s kind of the problem.”

Virgil seemed at a loss, and Roman felt like an asshole. Here he was trying to help him, and Roman couldn’t even be bothered to put on a smile to dismiss him from the duty.

“Please go,” Roman attempted weakly when he couldn’t find a more convincing argument in himself. He was meant to be an actor, but he knew he couldn’t hide the fact that he wanted him to stay, of course he did, so badly. He hoped Virgil would just quit with the chivalry and go despite that.

Virgil sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Shit, I'm going about this all wrong.”

Roman knew it probably wasn’t really him Virgil was mad at, but it was hard not to shrink away anyway.

“Look, Roman—“ Virgil turned to him, looked at him seriously, took his hands in his— “To be honest? I don’t care what happened. I don’t care who was right or wrong—I mean, we all know I’ve been in the wrong more than my fair share. It doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

Roman didn’t miss the ambiguity of the end statement. “But… look, you don’t get it. When you mess up, you’re still you. You’re still...,” Roman gestured vaguely, which upset his bandages, and when he looked down at himself, he took note of the black/purple hoodie he was wearing. He melted slightly. This was exactly the point he was trying to make, “You’re still... y’know. Important.”

“Wh—? Of course you’re important, Ro. You’re creativity—“

“Thomas has two of those.”

Virgil looked at him like he was stupid. “Right, as if you’re anything like Remus.”

Roman’s lip quivered at that, and he had to look away, which was so stupid. And suddenly he felt all of the embarrassment at once—of this situation, of everything that had happened before, of the way he was about to cry, in front of Virgil, after he said that, which must look so—

“Roman?”

A hand was on his cheek, softly turning his face towards Virgil’s, though Roman still refused to meet his eyes.

Virgil cursed to himself under his breath. “Shit, this is exactly what I was trying not to say.” He sighed, and Roman hesitantly looked up at him. “Look. Even if you weren’t creativity, if you weren’t hopes or dreams or any of it—if you were a completely pointless side, which you aren’t, but if you were—I wouldn’t care. What I care about is that you’re... Roman. That you bother me until I sing Disney with you, that when you put your heart into something, you do it to a stupid amount, that you make Thomas take trashy buzzfeed soulmate quizzes when he’s stressed, and that you fucking try so hard for everything, even when I’m being a little bitch about it,” he paused. With the hand on Roman’s cheek, he traced the line of a scar down his jaw. It was one of the ones Roman usually made sure to put an illusion over, he noted offhandedly. “I care, because you’re my best friend.”

“Don’t say that,” Roman choked out. He couldn’t handle it if it was a lie, and part of him couldn’t manage hearing it as anything but exactly that. “Just—just—“

“Oh, Princey..”

Virgil held him as he broke. Roman didn’t know how long they sat like that as he let everything wash over him for a final time, let it all truly sink in at long last. He took heaving, messy sobs, no doubt ruining Virgil’s shirt in the process—he was quiet, though. He shook silently, save a couple choked breaths, in the other’s arms--that was a habit he had taught himself long ago.

When Roman had tired himself out, when all that was left was the pain in chest, (which was also suddenly duller—he was healing fast, even for a side—) he pulled back from the embrace. Virgil didn’t move by much, kept them so their fingers were laced together, as they sat staring at each other.

“Uhm. Thanks,” Roman gave a shaky smile, “You really—uh... I... I said some stupid stuff, huh?”

Virgil hesitated before he spoke, as if he knew he shouldn’t ask this right now, but needed to anyway. “...Roman, why’d you go to the Imagination?”

Roman felt ice stab at his chest upon the question. He didn’t want to do this. They had already talked about so much that he shouldn’t have gotten into; this was meant to be the part where they either parted or watched a stupid movie. And this, out of everything, was the conversation he most needed to avoid.

“Uh—I mean, to let off steam?” Roman gave a laugh as best he could. “Obviously, it didn’t go to plan—“

“Didn’t it?”

Roman’s face fell immediately. He struggled to come up with an answer, and even if he had had one, he didn’t think the sound would come out. This was enough of an answer in itself

“Shit,” Virgil breathed. Roman couldn’t help but be mildly annoyed by his surprise—clearly he had already known, he didn’t have to make it a big deal now.

“I… Princey—Roman…” Virgil looked him up and down, and Roman wanted to curl up and hide. “...how many times?”

“Not many,” Roman mumbled. Virgil must have known he was pushing the subject too far, because he just frowned and said,

“OK. I mean...it’s not OK, obviously, but you already know that, I just—“ he sighed. “Just… can you talk to me? Instead? Please? When you feel like… that.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Roman responded hastily, wanting an out from this topic.

Virgil gave him a look. “I’m serious. I mean—look, you don’t even have to talk about it if you don’t want. Just, come to me first, yeah?”

Roman’s face burned; he was embarrassed; he wanted to shrug this whole thing off, or roll his eyes, or maybe scream in annoyance. But the rational part of him knew Virgil was right. “OK,” he agreed softly, “...Thanks. For everything.”

Virgil looked surprised, and then flustered, and then waved off the earnest reply. “I mean, it wasn’t--I didn’t--it’s not like I did anything really--”

“You did.”

Virgil’s face softened. “Yeah, well... you’d’ve done the same for me. You... have done the same for me.”

Roman smiled gently at him. “By the way, Virge--” He hesitated. He was about to sound like a real dumbass if Virgil had only been saying this stuff for comfort’s sake. But making a fool of himself was becoming a theme for him anyway, so he continued, “You’re my best friend too.”

I love you.

In the same beats Roman thought it, Virgil squeezed his hand lightly 3 times. A breath passed between them. An understanding. That Roman couldn’t say it out loud, and Virgil wouldn’t.

Instead, Virgil fell back across the bed, bringing Roman with him in the motion. Roman let out a startled gasp and elbowed him lightly. “Hey! I’m injured, that could have been a fatal impact for me!” he whined.

Virgil snorted. “Yeah, yeah, OK. So, do you wanna watch a stupid movie, or what?”

#lucy.fic #romangst #roman sanders angst #roman hurt/comfort #prinxiety #platonic prinxiety #ts roman #ts virgil #everyone ik reading the title of this fic: ohhh my god we know u like penelope scott we know #‘we know u associate this song w roman we KNOW</3’#roman sanders #virgil sanders #sanders sides #also standard statement that im not a writer i just write sometimes pls do not. judge thishehusgs

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hops-hunny · 3 years ago

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Could you do something like a bunch of ur friends go on a trip and spend the night at a hotel and you end up having to share a room with Neville and it’s kinda awkward at first but after a while it’s kinda chill and then outta no where Neville confesses his feelings and then you confess yours and then there is just very lovey dovey type sex

PRONOUNS: SHE/HER

(Y/n) was beyond the valley of happy. Ever since 4th year, her and her friends had been saving and planning for this very trip. To celebrate their departure from their days at Hogwarts, they all had collectively decided to visit the various places in Europe. Tonight they ended up in Italy, a lavish hotel that they had gotten for such a good deal! However, when she arrived and saw that Ginny, Luna, and Hermione had all brought their boyfriends, she shortly realized this wasn’t the all girl’s trip they had planned it as when they were 15.

“Guys? What are the boys doing here? And Neville, no offense Neville.” she said. The boy shot her a nod of acknowledgment letting her know he knew her words held no ill intent.

“Well you see, when we told the boys we were going on a trip, they for some reason thought they were included.” Ginny started, avoiding her friend’s agitated (e/c) eyes.

“Yeah and so we had to switch the room arrangements..” Hermione trailed, also not making eye contact with her. However, Luna offered the girl a bright smile, a glint unknown behind her eyes.

“Meaning?” (Y/n) asked, already sensing that something was most definitely up.

“Meaning you’re sharing a room with Neville! You two know each other, yes?” Luna beamed causing the girl to stiffen. Of course she knew Neville. She had been madly in love with her since 3rd year when he gave her a flower on valentine’s day because her date stood her up. She looked over at Neville who had an unreadable look on his face, cheeks flushed a bright red as he picked at his skin awkwardly. (Y/n) sighed, nodding as she snatched her room key from Hermione’s hands, dragging her suitcase towards the elevator.

When she got into the room, her eyes widened at the California king sized bed in the middle. She groaned, throwing herself in the middle of the bed, her head sinking into the mountain of overly priced pillows. “Well, at least its big.” she muttered to herself. Even though she’d be sharing a bed with him, the bed was big enough for each of them to have their own sides and sleep comfortably. She popped up at the sound of the door slamming shut.

“Sorry. Oh dear, there’s only one bed? That can’t be right.” He said, eyes practically popping out of his head. If it weren’t for her own underlying nerves, she would’ve found humor in his expression.

“It’s fine. I mean it’s big enough for the both of us. I can just take the couch if you want.” she said shrugging going to move from the bed.

“No!” he shouted, causing her own eyes to bug a bit. “I-I mean it’s fine. I don’t mind sharing but I have to be honest.” he started off, taking a seat next to her on the edge of the bed. “It wouldn’t be right for me to sleep in the same bed without you knowing this so I think it’s important that I let you know prior that I have feelings for you. I don’t want you to think I’m a creep or something.” he muttered. However, (Y/n) couldn’t reply. She was stunned. The same guy she had been pining over since her 3rd year at that bloody school harbored the same feelings?

“Well that makes this a hell of a lot less awkward.” she responded simply, falling back on the bed. Neville’s eyes fell to the skin exposed by her skirt lifting before his eyes widened, shooting to hers which were closed in comfort.

“A-are you saying what I think you are?” He asked in disbelief. He couldn’t believe his ears. She giggled some at his dumb struck expression.

“Yes Neville, I like you too. Have since 3rd year.” she watched as he took it all in processing it all. She gasped as he suddenly began to hover over her. Both of his hands were caging the sides of her head.

"Well, how about we break the bed in, yeah?"

(A/N: I was so tempted to part 2 you guys but I'm feeling nice today <3)

(Y/n) found herself nodding along mindlessly and without another word, Neville leaned down placing his lips on hers. They both let out soft moans of pleasure, the feeling that they had imagine finally happening right before their eyes. He applied more pressure, gliding his tongue along her bottom lip. She complied, parting her lips letting out a soft gasp at the sensation of their tongues dancing together.

Neville trailed his hand under her skirt, rubbing her clit with his thumb through her panties. He felt his own pants tighten more at the feeling of the large wet spot along her panties. He pulled back, pulling her panties and skirt down with one smooth motion. He felt his mouth salivate at the sight of her slick folds which was caused by him and only him. His eyes trailed up to her bare chest, her shirt long gone in the heat of the moment.

As she reached her shaky hands up to remove his shirt, he helped her by lifting it over his head before standing up to remove his pants and boxers. As he got on his knees, he pulled her by her legs to the edge of the bed. He leaned forward, hot breath fanning on her cunt causing her to let out a small noise of impatience.

"May I?" He asked, rubbing her clit in fascination of the beautiful sight before him.

"Yes! I mean please." she mumbled, hiding her face in her hands. He chuckled before leaning forward, placing a kiss on her mound before diving in. He dragged his tongue all along her folds, paying extra attention to her clit as he delve a finger inside of her. He watched her face turn and change in pleasure, her eyes closed blissfully. He felt himself growing unbearably hard. He was the one causing her pleasure, he was the only one getting to see her in such a vulnerable state.

He added another finger, stroking along the expanse of her thigh with his free hand as she began to buck her hips into his face. He didn't stop her movements, enjoying the new level of closeness he had with her messy cunt. He moaned some, sucking and licking along her folds, tongue coated in the splendid taste of her arousal. She reached her free hand down, gripping at his messy locks before letting out a loud moan, creaming all over his face and fingers. As she slowly began to cease the grinding on his face, he pulled his fingers from her slowly, looking at the milky substance that soaked his fingers. He stuck them in his mouth, eyes rolling back at the taste as he let out a soft groan.

"Taste better than I could've ever imagined. I've been wanting to do that for years." He said before leaning down and kissing her deeply. She let out a moan of approval at the taste of herself, sucking the remanence from his tongue. He smiled at her softly before rubbing his tip along her entrance. "Dirty girl." he purred before sliding into her in one swift motion. They moaned in harmony, her back arching off the bed as he began to thrust into her slowly.

"I-I'm really glad to be doing this with you." she managed to get out, wrapping her arms around his neck as she pulled him closer. She whimpered, burying her face in his neck as he continued to thrust into her, passion and love conveyed in every thrust.

"Me too petal. Y-you look so pretty like this." he hissed as she squeezed around him unintentionally, only fueling to his already strong pace. He gripped her hips harshly, pistoning himself even deeper into her. She let out a particularly loud moan as his tip rammed into her G-spot, the sensitive spot being brutalized over and over by his massive tip.

"O-oh god Nev! It feels too good! Yes just like that, just like that!" she cried out, tears rolling down her cheeks. She dug her nails into his shoulders deeper causing him to let out another moan. The feeling was painful but it only added to his desire to please her, to get her to release once more. "Oh my god, I'm gonna cum! I-I-I love you! Love you so much Nev, god yes!" she sobbed out, spasming around him.

The profound confession combined with the feeling of her warm velvety walls was enough to make him release. He groaned as he continued to thrust deep into her. "Oh fucking hell! I love you too, princess! Fuck you feel so good, so warm wrapped around me." he let out a small whimper, continue to thrust deep into her before collapsing onto the bed next to her.

Neville pulled the girl close to his chest, rubbing at her back affectionately. She lay her head on his chest, tracing patterns into his skin and playing connect the dots with a particular set of freckles. "That was, that was...wow." he said, letting out a breathless laugh. She giggled, looking up at him with tired eyes.

"Well you know what they say, when in Rome do as the Romans do."

"(Y/n)....we're in Sicily."

#brattysblurbs:neville #neville x reader #neville longbottom x reader

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askintothevoids · 3 years ago

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Writing for the First Time and Realizing My Life Sounds Like a Movie

TW: Death, dead animal, hateful feelings toward a person, bad feelings, sex mention (there’s like one), talking about cancer, and cheating on a spouse

It’s been a long year. I’m not super sure how old I am now. Roman and Remus were born 26 years ago, so… I was about twenty four when that happened.. So 50 something, I’ve never been good at math.

Yeah, god, the boys are 26 years old. I was sent into the void when they were about 14, I can’t even imagine dealing with secondary school after losing your mum. I know I couldn't have done it. I missed so much of their lives. I miss when life was simple.

My parents always urged me to get married, even if it wasn’t my soulmate. So one day I did. I married my friend, Jose, he was also gay. I didn’t find out that I was a lesbian until like around the time Agnes passed away. No, but, I really miss him. I knew him from kal, he was the only one who made it bearable. Jose was actually the one who got me into boxing, he was a really good guy. We got married, did the naked tango (neither of us cared for it) because we both wanted kids, I got pregnant with Roman and Remus, and then Jose got cancer.

Well, technically, he had it for a while. He got lung cancer from secondhand smoking, from an Aunt that lived with him. He didn’t know, he just thought that maybe he was just super allergic to something. It was awful. I saw my best friend deteriorate in front of me, he didn’t even get to meet the boys. They were born a week after he passed. Probably the hardest year of my life.

I remember I married Roman, my now ex-husband, on the same day my sons, Roman and Remus were born. He was just a guy friend from the gym, he needed a marriage to satisfy his parents, so ya know.

Life sucked for the next year, as much as I love my little prince and duke, they were a handful as babies. I dug myself out of my grave, I started to do farm work, I picked up Opera once more. Life picked up a little, I made money from my talent, and helped keep up the farm. It was great taking care of the boys. Roman loved the musical arts as much as I did, and Remus loved punching things as much as I did.

I remember that I helped out with one of the cows who were giving birth. I brought Roman in afterwards, he was about 5 or 6 at the time. I introduced him to the calf, she was brown and white I think. Bubs was currently obsessed with the Little Mermaid, and he named her Ariel. I didn’t let my husband kill the heifer when she grew up, Roman really loved that cow. I swear that thing was more dog than cattle, she might still be alive. I know they can live like 22 years.

Remus and I would go hunting for Cane Toads. We both hated the damn things, after all we are Australian. Obviously he was a little older so about 11, 12 when we went, I taught him how to shoot a bow. I know it sounds brutal, but you don’t hesitate to kill a bug, right? And things are like cats, they kill anything they can get their hands on. He was named after my buddies, Remus O’Malley and Johnny Drummond. Remus Jose John Douglas Rowe, I’d say it’s a pretty alright name, of course, a smidge long but we did long names in the Mejia-Cortes-Rowe household. No, but, my little duke was a good shot, and he probably still kills Cane Toads to this day.

Those days were so nice. I miss them so much.

Of course, I loved Agnes and Johnny with all my heart. They were some of my best friends. When it happened, I just shut down, Verrill died not too long after her. Jannie and O’Malley were in one of their spits around that time, so Janus left the group. All I could think of was getting revenge. I fucking hated Abigail. I despised her. I wanted her dead. I wanted to hurt her badly. I know it was unfair, but at the time I did not know.

We never got along. She and I just did not mix. She was cynical and rude, and looked down upon me like gutter trash half the time. She had some kind of superiority complex, I swear, I bit my tongue though. I don’t like to judge people, but it’s human nature to in some ways. She always pushed my buttons, I found it hard to respect her. I knew she was in tangos with a married guy, and it wasn’t an open marriage or anything. It was a poor woman who was being cheated on by this canadian jackass who spoke like the weird French skunk cat harasser.

I think I only got along with her once. She was doing research on everyone’s family trees. Abigail wanted to recognise void ticks, symptoms, patterns, etc. She was smart, I'd give her that. The project interested me, so I didn’t say anything. I kept peace most of the time, because the others seemed to like her. Her daughter and grandson were pretty nice people though, I don’t know how that happened (Well, maybe I do, I think her daughter was raised by an Aunt or something, and the grandson was some other couple).

But now, looking back I don’t know if I don’t regret anything.

I don’t know.

I think my life is still incomplete. I know why. I still haven’t met her. I want to meet her. I’m getting older, and my friends are dying. I kinda wish my grandson, Kenzie, had at least two abuelas. I think most people desire that kind of companionship, I just want what the straight have unfortunately.

I thought writing this down would help. I always meant to go to therapy but time got ahead of me. And now, I have a different job. I gotta watch over some people, and I would like to meet Jannie’s sister, oh, and Beetle too.

Welp, probably gonna sing love songs over and over, and sob into my ukulele. Uh

Peace.

#tw death mention #tw death #tw dead animal #tw hate #tw bad feelings #tw sex mention #tw cancer #tw cancer mention #tw cheating mention #intothevoids #alternate universe #camila mejia cortes #ned’s bedtime stories

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shewholovestoread · 5 years ago

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Birds of Prey (2020) Review

I’ve seen Birds of Prey twice now and both times, it was an absolute joy to watch! Never have I enjoyed myself quite this much, I screamed, I shouted and laughed throughout the film. Birds of Prey was everything I hoped it would be and so much more.

Where do I even start with this film? I loved everything about it, the writing, the cast, direction, the action, all of it.

Now, lets get the negative out of the way, I’ve read some reviews that pointed out that the film has pacing issues and maybe it does but only if you’re looking for it. Birds of Prey is also operating from a place of disadvantage where other superhero films are concerned (predominantly Marvel) Barring Harley, whom we saw in Suicide Squad, the rest of the squad is not very well known. Birds of Prey had the tall task of introducing all of these other characters in a way that made sense and still have a reasonable run-time. Black Canary, Huntress, Renee Montoya did not have the advantage of having their own standalone films. Christina Hodson, Margot Robbie and Cathy Yan did a great job integrating all of these characters and their arcs and the intersection of said arcs.

The writing was so on point, it felt like the writers had a keen sense of the characters they were writing for and to an extent that is true. Robbie was part of the writing process and helped shape the film and it’s not surprising, I doubt anyone (barring those who write the actual comics) could have had a clearer picture of who Harley is. Cathy Yan does a great job of bringing the words to life and infusing them with an energy that was electrifying. It was cohesive and coherent film, full credit to Hodson and Yan.

I loved that all of the women are badass without exception but the film also gives them time and space to be vulnerable. These are not male characters in a female body. These characters are feminine and lean on their emotions instead of shutting them down. The ass-kicking aspect is amazing, the action set-pieces are fucking fantastic but it was equally gratifying to see the women be supportive and protective of each other. They quickly became a sisterhood once they came together and that was a pleasure to see on film.

Birds of Prey is feminist, explicitly queer, diverse, irreverent, brash, unapologetic and a no-holds-barred female power fantasy, it is wish fulfillment at its finest. It was so gratifying to see the female characters defy conventional, patriarchal expectations time and time again. They are allowed to be messy and flawed, they make mistakes and bad decisions and they are better for it.

Margot Robbie has made Harley hers in a way that I doubt another actor could match in any capacity. I loved her journey, I loved that she was a mess after her breakup and she needed time and space to truly heal, to discover her worth independent of her partner. I loved that she is canonically bisexual in the film. Her action sequences are some of the best in the film and she is amazing in them but I loved that we also saw her pain and loneliness, her desire to be a part of something and be appreciated for who she is. Her act of blowing up Ace Chemicals, while not thought through completely, is symbolic of her beginning to breaking away from the shackles she placed on herself.

Jurnee Smollett-Bell as Dinah Lance / Black Canary was amazing. You can see her feel torn between her need to survive and the terror and disgust she feels for Roman Sionis. Plus the Canary Cry was fucking epic and I wish we’d gotten more of it.

Rozie Perez as Renee Montoya was perfect, she brought dimensions and layers to the role that a younger actor would not have, the film is richer for having her in it and I am glad that both Yan and Perez fought for it. She had the right amount of cynicism and weariness that her role needed, like she’d been doing this for a while and though she was great at her job, she rarely got the credit she deserved. I also loved that she was also explicitly gay in the film and even meet her ex-girlfriend.

Mary Elizabeth Winstead as Helena Bertinelli / Huntress was plain delightful! I wish she’d had more screen-time. She was the right amount of socially awkward paired with someone with deep-seated rage issues. But she never loses herself to that rage, case in point, when the women are fighting together in the amusement park, she takes a moment to speak to Cassandra, give her something to ground her, to distract her from the violence and brutality.

Ella Jay Basco was great as Cassandra Cain. I loved her spirit and her interactions with Harley and the gang.

Ewan McGregor as Roman Sionis / Black Mask was equal parts spoilt brat and sinister and he played it so well. He was unpredictable and that’s what made him so menacing, you never knew what could set him off (snot bubble) And then there’s Chris Messina, brilliant as the unhinged Victor Zsazs, they were perfect for each other, 2 peas in a pod, each feeding the others’ sociopathy.

The action in the film is one of the best parts of the film, it is beautifully choreographed and you can feel the impact. All of the women get their time to shine, given that each has their own individual approach to how they fight. I also loved the costume design, I loved that NONE of the women were sexualised or objectified. They all looked amazing! But they were practically dressed, the way one dresses in real life but with more flair. Credit to Erin Benach.

Films like Birds of Prey that are written, produced and directed by women, for women are sometimes held to an unrealistic standard, almost as if they need to be perfect films (such a thing does not exist)They are held to standards that films made by men are not, which is why a man can make one mediocre film after another and no one blinks but if woman makes a film and it’s anything short of spectacular then it’s labeled a failure and used as an excuse to dismiss other proposals / pitches by female content creators, that is a deeply misogynistic approach and it needs to change. But we also need people to go out and watch films like Birds of Prey, Wonder Woman so that we can have more diverse voices and experiences reflected on screen. So please, if you haven’t already seen the film, make sure you do, go with your friends, mothers, sisters, whoever and watch it. It is a joy and a delight to watch.

Now, can we please have a Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy team up! Please, I desperately need it And while we’re at it, I need to them to get romantically involved. Pretty please

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ourimpavidheroine · 4 years ago

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You always post your writing soundtracks. Mind sharing your top ten albums with us?

I actually laughed when I read this because I’m thinking of the Anon who complained that all of my music was OLD. I mean. I’m old! What did you expect?

Never mind me, I’m easily amused. Thank you for using the word album so I would not feel like Lady Danbury with my lethal cane.

Yes, sure I can do that! I don’t know that these are my forever and ever amen top ten, but they are the ones that are coming to mind right now. So.

Under a cut, it’s long.

In no particular order.

Brutal Youth - Elvis Costello

My ex-husband was in love with Elvis Costello and who could blame him? The man is a genius lyricist. This is not one of his more commercially popular albums but I love every single track. (I also lined up at Ticketmaster in Oakland, CA when the man was touring in order to get tickets for my ex. I got there at midnight and spent the night, meeting a group of drag queens who were getting tickets to see Barbara Streisand. God, that was a fun night, we ate donuts one of them went on a donut run for and sang showtunes for hours. One of my favorite memories.) This verse, from Clown Strike, is one that has resonated with me since I first heard it.

Tell me what you want of me Or are you terrified of failure? You put on a superstitious face Behind all this paraphernalia We're not living in a masquerade Where you only have three wishes It isn't easy to see In a lifetime of mistaken kisses

Unrepentant Geraldines - Tori Amos

I remember the first time I heard a Tori Amos song. It was the summer directly after I’d graduated from college, I was driving my ex-husband’s car and Silent All These Years came on the radio and I was just fucking gobsmacked. I bought Little Earthquakes that day and haven’t looked back. I have all her albums. I am a big, big fan.

Unrepentant Geraldines, though. God. It came out the year before my wife died and it got me through her death. The song Weatherman is about a man losing his wife, and how he sees her in the nature surrounding him.

And.

No, sorry, I can’t write more about this, not right now. But I sing it to her sometimes.

He is not a weatherman But his bride lies with the land And she will whisper to him I'll be dressing up in snow Cloaked in echo it's almost As if only Nature knows How to paint his wife to life With every season's tone "One more look from her eyes One more look can you paint her back to life"

Ray of Light - Madonna

This album got me through my divorce from my ex-husband. I’d go out every single day during my lunch hour, this on my walkman, and walk and walk and walk until I got myself in enough control to go back and finish my work day. It’s a great album and I still listen to it a lot. It empowers me. And then my daughter was born and Ray of Light has always been her song to me, even though that wasn’t the song on the album that Madonna herself wrote for her daughter.

Faster than the speeding light she's flying Trying to remember where it all began She's got herself a little piece of heaven Waiting for the time when Earth shall be as one And I feel like I just got home And I feel And I feel like I just got home And I feel

Seven and the Ragged Tiger - Duran Duran

This one was a difficult choice. For one thing, I really love their album Big Thing, which almost nobody’s heard about but one I love deeply. This one though...I think it’s the memories, including going to see them at the Oakland Coliseum with my cousin during their tour for this album and finding out they were partially filming the video for The Reflex that night. I like to think of us as being one of those girls in the audience. (Although I wasn’t screaming. I am a Capricorn. Have some dignity.) Duran Duran were responsible for my first fanfic and I’ve had a love for them since my Dad bought me their first album for my 13th birthday. I am nothing if not loyal. I have all of their early albums, all of their 12″ singles, too, including Secret Oktober, which I have always loved with a passion.

Also, Roger Taylor can still get it.

Freefall on a windy morning shore nothing but a fading track of footsteps Could prove that you never been there Spoken on a cotton cloud like the sound of gunshot taken by the wind And lost in distant thunder racing on a shining plain And tomorrow you'll be content to watch as the lightning plays along the wires and you'll wonder

Touch - Eurythmics

Another band I still love and listen to on the regular. Annie Lennox could sing me the telephone book and I’d be thrilled. Seeing her at age 14 in the Sweet Dreams video for the first time in my Grandmother’s living room quite literally woke something in me that led to moving across the world for a woman years later. (GOD.) I have all of their albums and choosing a favorite is difficult but this one won by a narrow margin, if only for the song Regrets, which is one of the songs that describes me until I became a mother, really. Like I RESONATED with that song. Still does in certain ways, if I am being truthful to myself.

I've got a delicate mind I've got a dangerous nature And my fist collides With your furniture I've got a delicate mind I've got a dangerous nature And my fist collides With your furniture I'm an electric wire And I'm stuck inside your head

Combat Rock - The Clash

Ah, teenage Impavid first understanding that music can also be political. Listen, I didn’t know much about what was going on outside of my own miniscule sphere - I was young and the internet didn’t exist yet. We got what news we got from our local paper and TV stations and they weren’t really reporting on what was happening in the world, not in 1982, let me fucking assure you. I got this album because my Dad was a part time DJ at a radio station that played mostly country music and the general manager of the station would just toss the rest of the non-country albums they’d get as promotions. My Dad would bring them home to me to listen to. You can imagine thirteen year old me listening to this album that opened with “This is a public service announcement - with guitars!” going WHAT THE FUCK? Let me just say there were a lot of trips to the library to read various newspapers after that.

Not to mention Rock the Casbah. What was a muezzin? I had no idea. I spent half a year reading books about Islam, about the Middle East and Northern Africa, which led to a curiosity about other religions beyond the Roman Catholicism in which I’d been raised, about other cultures as well. This album and The Color Purple by Alice Walker were the two things in my teen years that woke me the fuck up.

Now the king told the boogie men You have to let that raga drop The oil down the desert way Has been shakin' to the top The sheik he drove his Cadillac He went a' cruisin' down the ville The muezzin was a' standing On the radiator grille

Synchronicity - The Police

This fucking album. This fucking album. This album reached deep down into me and pulled out my soul and kicked it around for awhile. Every single song on this album hit me like a brick wall. Still does. Most likely always will.

Listen, you either like King of Pain or you live it. There’s no in between.

There's a little black spot on the sun today It's the same old thing as yesterday There's a black hat caught in a high tree top There's a flag pole rag and the wind won't stop I have stood here before inside the pouring rain With the world turning circles running 'round my brain. I guess I'm always hoping that you'll end this reign, But it's my destiny to be the king of pain...

Sign O’ The Times - Prince

The soundtrack to my University days. Jesus, it starts out with “In France a skinny man died of a big disease with a little name,” and it just keeps going. Pain, sex, wonder, glory, politics, love. It’s all there. I wore the vinyl out on this one. Amazing, amazing album. In fact, I still play it so often my kids practically know it by heart, and they don’t even like Prince!

To this day I think If I Was Your Girlfriend is the sexiest song ever written.

I will tell you this much: Sayuri’s main writing soundtrack song is Starfish and Coffee off the album, the same song I used to sing my kids as a lullaby. This should tell you a lot about her.

Cynthia wore the prettiest dress With different color socks Sometimes I wondered if the mates where in her lunchbox Me and Lucy opened it when Cynthia wasn't around Lucy cried, I almost died, U know what we found? Starfish and coffee Maple syrup and jam Butterscotch clouds, a tangerine And a side order of ham If U set your mind free, honey Maybe you'd understand Starfish and coffee Maple syrup and jam

Nina Simone Sings The Blues - Nina Simone

This was one of my Daddy’s albums. He loved it and so did I. As a child I just loved the sound of her voice - something in it both soothed me and pulled at me, made me want to run and just keep running. She still makes me feel like that. If you don’t know Nina Simone I urge you to change that, right now. There’s nobody at all like her. She’s irreplaceable. All of her material is good, not just her blues songs. Not to mention, she was an absolute brilliant genius at the piano, never mind the strength she had as a Black woman in a time when doors were shut in her face on a daily basis. Seriously. Read about her.

When I became a woman, of course, her songs took on a much deeper meaning for me, one that I could relate to. Isn’t that the hallmark of a good album, though? One that stays with you and changes with you? I think so.

If you’ve never heard her cover of I Put A Spell On You then do yourself a favor and go right now and listen. You’re welcome.

Oh and Buck from this album? Nuo to Wing, right there.

Also one of the sexiest songs ever written, this one. Especially how she sings it. The Hot Frenchman (have I ever told you about The Hot Frenchman? no? OH BOY THERE’S A STORY) told me he thought it was about drugs and I was like, honey, this tells me a whole lot about you, more than you probably wanted it to.

I want a little sugar In my bowl I want a little sweetness Down in my soul I could stand some lovin' Oh so bad I feel so funny and I feel so sad I want a little steam On my clothes Maybe I can fix things up So they'll go Whatsa matter Daddy Come on, save my soul I need some sugar in my bowl I ain't foolin' I want some sugar in my bowl

I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got - Sinéad O’Connor

This is a beautiful album, full of pain and joy, her hallmark. She sings every single word with everything in her; she’s far too intense for many, many people (and while she’s been open with her mental health struggles I’ve often wondered if she isn’t somewhere on the spectrum as well) but never for me. Her raw honesty has always appealed to me. She’s political, she’s a lover, a mother, a survivor of horrific abuse, someone who keeps reinventing herself as a way to find her way through pain. I always feel, when I am listening to her music, that I am bearing witness. I’m not afraid of pain; I’ve survived it as well. This album, one of her oldest, is still my favorite.

The line “You used to hold my hand when the plane took off” is the most evocative lyric I have ever heard with regards to the ending of love. It’s a punch to the heart - she felt it and she shared it with us, her fragile heart in her palms. Oh, Sinéad.

This is the last day of our acquaintance I will meet you later in somebody's office I'll talk but you won't listen to me I know what your answer will be I know you don't love me anymore You used to hold my hand when the plane took off Two years ago there just seemed so much more And I don't know what happened to our love

#personal #favorite albums #long post #Anonymous

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magnhild · 5 years ago

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my brutally honest rwby ship opinions

i tried to list every ship i knew of that was at least slightly popular but if u have more u wanna hear my opinion on tell me and i'll add! anyway here’s my takes. they’re not really that spicy.

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bumbleby- the best ship. maybe not just in rwby, but in anything. they’re not even explicitly dating yet but they’re very clearly in love.

renora- the second best ship in rwby. way better than probably any m/f ship out there. they have no right being as good as they are. hope they fix their issues soon.

whiterose- very cute, a classic if not overused trope. would probably like it more if not for the fact its fandom can’t seem to accept that it won’t be canon.

freezerburn- v5 endeared me to them a lot. I love their height difference. hot/cold juxtaposition; very good.

ladybug- hello??? someone call triple zero this ship is too adorable and I love all the fanart I see of it.

monochrome- even more tropey than whiterose. I still like it though. wondered if it was going to be canon someday back in v1.

ena*ler- please get the fuck out

arkos- rushed, but still cute and ultimately tragic. a good old ‘high school romance’

lancaster- don’t ship it but I adore their friendship

blacksun- it’s okay from an objective standpoint but i still really don’t like it. they’re best friends though.

white knight- no thank you. their friendship is worth a lot more.

nuts n dolts- best ruby ship. wholesome as all fuck. thank you crwby for them.

rosegarden- I have expressed my hatred for it many times. do not make me explain again.

iceberg- same as white knight expect they’re not even friends

schneekos- arkos but better. weiss clearly had a crush on her.

greekfire- two hot buff girlfriends?? yes please

pink lemonade- two hot buff girlfriends but double the chaos?? even more yes please.

sugar rush- they’d burn the world down. I love them. probably the only characters within the main cast whose energies match each other’s.

martial arcs- I wrote a single-tweet ship fanfiction with them and now I think they’re really cute

snowpines- would be very cute but only if ozpin fucks off forever

emercury- I understand the appeal but they read as siblings to me and I prefer them that way

gel*to- I have also explained my hatred for this one. please no.

spicecream- could maybe be cute if cinder weren’t cinder. but she is so. no.

sunflowyr- would be cute if I didn’t headcanon yang as a lesbian.

sunflakes- the only reason I don’t headcanon weiss as a lesbian. it’s good.

strawbana- i only like it from a meta point of view. if you know, you know.

catmeleon- good. that’s really all I have to say.

spumoni- a lot of people don’t realize it but neo and emerald are so very similar and I think they’d be great together

snapdragons- basic, but cute. I wish they could be happy together.

phoenix- listen they literally hate each other. or at least strongly dislike. they are divorced. not healthy.

rosebird- now this is where it’s at. yes. I love them.

hummingbird- extremely basic and annoying heterosexual. no, qrow is not ruby’s dad. shut up.

fireball- probably the least-considered strq ship but there is some validity to it.

crosshares- mmmmmm yes please

cinnabun- cute! but it’s not crosshares

seamonkeys- someone please make them realize they’re in love. please.

fairgame- good. couldn’t really get attached to it bc I couldn’t really get attached to clover but they deserved better. honestly thought it’d happen.

ironqrow- was good before but. y’know.

qrow*n- don’t come anywhere near me.

tau*adonna- i will fucking block you if you so much as mention this ship in a good light

magpie- I don’t even like roman but fuck if this ship didn’t make me hate him a bit less

pomegrenade- underrated but just imagine them for a second. they’d be so cute???

snowbyrds- pretty good so long as I stick to my headcanon that robyn is in her late 20s and not her mid 30s.

springthyme- see above but I like it a fair bit more because did you see v7c6

goldleaf- I made a whole ship week for them of course I love them

marrowgold- ehhhhhhhh may’s a huge fuckin lesbian but I guess it’s alright.

guard dog- still hesitant to ship it bc marrow’s age is so vague but assuming they’re close in age it’s valid

slush puppies- see above

wishbone- ew no. we know roughly how old they are now. please keep it away from me.

prismatic ponytails- a very cute concept. wish I could stop getting it mixed up with weiss/emerald and ilia/emerald even though those are both way less popular

narration- they try to kill each other a lot I don’t know why anyone would ship it

pyrruby- got very attached to it after coming up with that dumb au I came up with once

baked alaska- would have some mount of validity if neo hadn’t almost killed her on purpose. maybe if neo switches sides. maybe.

emberald- oh my god fuck off. why does this fandom like canonically abusive ships so much.

purrha- very cute but I’m not using the other name fuck you

#rwby #ships #blaire rambles #i'm not tagging all these

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bobasheebaby · 4 years ago

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75 Criminal Minds Prompts

Some of these can easily go very, very dirty, and yes I’m talking about Morgan and Garcia conversations and honestly would it be a list without them?

1 “You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you’ve really stopped to look fear in the face. You must do the thing which you think you cannot do. ― Hotch

2 “Life is a hell of a thing to happen to someone.”― David Rossi

3 “Destroying a book is like…destroying a whole world.” — Diana Reid

4 “Trust me, kiddo. I’ve been here before.” ― David Rossi

5 “I’ve always heard every ending is also a beginning. We just don’t know it at the time. I’d like to believe that’s true.” — Emily Prentiss

6 “He is the perfect man. He doesn’t hog the covers, and he poops in a box.” — Emily Prentiss

7 “Went on a diet last night. Lost 185 pounds.” — Dr. Tara Lewis

8 “Marital bliss followed by marital diss! Of course. Why didn’t I think of that?” — Penelope Garcia

9 “I don’t take kindly to being blown up. In fact, it kind of pisses me off.” — Derek Morgan

10 “You know, I've learned that, in the short time I've had the privilege of being a dad... it heals wounds, just being there for your kid.” — David Rossi

11 “What makes you feel confident?” “Statistics.” — Derek Morgan and Dr Spencer Reid

12 “NAME , believe me when I say this, I've never known a normal day in my entire life.” — Dr Spencer Reid

13 “The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It's actually safer to kiss.” — Dr Spencer Reid

14 “No one gets therapy these days without a healthy dose of medication.” “What are you implying, NAME?” “That everyone is medicated.” — Dr Spencer Reid and Penelope Garcia

15 “He/She doesn't give a damn about black or white. The only color that son of a bitch cares about is green.” — Dr Spencer Reid

16 “I don't know everything. I mean, despite the fact that you think that I do.” “I never said that. When have I ever said that?” “Every day since I met you!” — Dr Spencer Reid and Derek Morgan

17 “I never have any normal fans.” — Dr Spencer Reid

18 “Hey, Baby Girl, whatever you’re doing, drop it.” — Derek Morgan

19 “Talk to me, Baby Girl.” — Derek Morgan

20 “There you go, Baby Girl, that’s sweet.” — Derek Morgan

21 “Give it to me, doll face.” — Derek Morgan

22 “Hey, doll face. Ready to work some magic for me?” — Derek Morgan

23 “Hey, silly girl. I love you, you know that, right?” — Derek Morgan

24 “Hey girl, you’re on speaker. Behave.” “Or what, you’ll spank me?” — Derek Morgan and Penelope Garcia

25 “It was once said that love is giving someone the ability to destroy you, but trusting them not to.” — Derek Morgan

26 “Hey baby girl, I need you to work that magic of yours.” “Rub my lamp, release the Genie.” — Derek Morgan and Penelope Garcia

27 “You really are afraid of the dark.” “I'm working on that.” “You should work a little harder.” — Derek Morgan and Dr Spencer Reid

28 “Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, pump your brakes. What is this about?” — Derek Morgan

29 “Oh, and if you hate sad stories as much as I do, you should leave the room right now, 'cause this is super sad!” — Penelope Garcia

30 “Enchantress of all things possible, use your imagination.” — Penelope Garcia

31 “My least three favorite words strung together: I don't know.” — Penelope Garcia

32 “Hello, my pretties. I have seen the wizard and he granted my wish.” — Penelope Garcia

33 “She knew where to toe the line between right and raunchy.” — Penelope Garcia

34 “OK, let me get you on a secret: Guys, we don’t do well on subtle clues, OK? You got to be direct, straight up. Just tell him exactly what you want!” — Derek Morgan

35 “It’s who you are, Baby Girl. You see the beauty in everything and everyone no matter where you go. That part of you is never gonna change, and I won’t let it.” — Derek Morgan

36 “NAME, people need to know that they're important and sometimes you forget that.” — Hotch

37 “Don't you have something better to do?” “Than to annoy you for three hours? Hell no.” — Hotch and Derek Morgan

38 “I think, deep down, we're all capable of unspeakable things. Where it starts or what you call it, I don't know.” — Hotch

39 “NAME, this is the job, and I need to know that you can be objective.” “And I need to know that I can be human.” — Hotch and Emily Prentiss

40 “Scars show us where we have been, they do not dictate where we are going.” — Rossi

41 “You don't need to do anything you don't want to. Understand?” — Rossi

42 “Just be careful. That ego of yours is going to get you in trouble." — Rossi

43 “Somewhere along the line, I put myself first. I admit it, but I can't go back and change it." — Rossi

44 “It could be that, after all of these years, I rewrote history." — Rossi

45 “Time will pass and slowly you will find how much it hurts. And, maybe, you'll find something else to fill that empty space." — Rossi

46 “Where you headed?” “Nowhere in particular.” “How will you know when you get there?” — Rose and Gideon

47 “Only a man would waste $50 trying to win back that $3 stuffed animal.” — JJ

48 “This is my favorite part. This is where you hang yourself with your own tongue. So, please keep talking.” — JJ

49 “My father/mother believes that children shouldn't be shielded from the realities of the world. I do! Isn't that why we read them fairy tales in the first place?” — JJ

50 “Oh god, please tell me you don't have a crush on a fictional character.” — JJ

51 “You are the best ever.” “Aw, and you're the most perceptive.” — JJ and Garcia

52 “I once dated a guy/girl who washed his/her car more than he/she washed his/her hair.” — JJ

53 “Don't tell me what I want and don't want.” — JJ

54 “You do what it takes to protect your family.” — JJ

55 “Look, I don't speak smartass.” — Michael Russo

56 “How's it having NAME around?” “You can have him/her back whenever you would like.” Hotch and Garcia

57 “So, NAME, when are you and NAME walking down the aisle?” “Hey, whoa, whoa. Baby steps. Baby steps.” “When NAME says "I do", it'll be a national day of mourning for single men/women everywhere.” — Rossi, Morgan and Reid

58 “Ugh! This heat is brutal!” “You know, it isn't so much the heat as it is the humidity.” “At some point, it doesn't matter how you look at it. It all sucks.” — Derek Morgan and Dr Spencer Reid

59 “Need a minute?” “So, so badly.” — Matt Simmons and Penelope Garcia

60 “Hey. I came as soon as I could. What's wrong?” — Matt Simmons

61 “We ask questions, and we come home.” “No creepy weirdness?” “No weirdness.” “Good, 'cause I'm about full up in the creepy weirdness department for one night.” — Matt Simmons and Penelope Garcia

62 “Ooh, what about this one? Sunny, two-bedroom. It's close to work. And it's in your price range.” “NAME, you're moving? You don't like change.” “That's true. Change is my kryptonite. But the apartment is no longer a sanctuary. I have a new neighbor. Window's right here. He enjoys doing naked kung fu. Some things you cannot unsee.” — JJ, Simmons and Garcia

63 “Thank you.” “For what?” “For being you.” “Aw, thanks. I don't know how to be anyone else.” — Emily Prentiss and Dr Spencer Reid

64 “When a woman tells a man about her feelings, she doesn't want him to fix her. She wants him to shut up and listen.” — Emily Prentiss

65 “I just feel I can't understand others' emotions if I don't deal with my own, you know?” “The best way out is always through.” “Too bad it's not always the easiest one.” “You're not kidding.” — Dr Tara Lewis and Rossi

66 “It helps if they think you're crazy. They don't argue.” — Diana Reid

67 “I don’t hate you ... I’m just not necessarily excited about your existence.” — Dr Spencer Reid

68 “There are many paths to the same place. Trust me.” “Just so you know, you sound like a fortune cookie.” — Hotch

69 “I’m always right. Also, you’re secretly in love with me.” — Penelope Garcia

70 “I just gave the bartender my number in Roman numerals. If he/she figures it out, he’s/she’s worth a shot.” — Dr Spencer Reid

71 “Shh, the adults are talking. When it’s your turn to speak, I’ll give you permission. Okay?” — JJ

72 “Hey, mama, tell me something I don’t know.” — Derek Morgan

73 “Talk dirty to me.” — Penelope Garcia

75 “Hey, don’t make me spank you when I get back.” “Don’t listen time him/her, NAME, he’s/she’s all talk.” — Derek Morgan and Dr Spencer Reid

#criminal minds prompts #criminal minds quotes #dialogue prompts #writing prompts #david rossi #derek morgan #dr spencer reid #emily prentiss #jj #aaron hotchner #penelope garcia #nswfish

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graveyardollie · 4 years ago

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Dying Angel - Awakening Demon Chapter 3

Chapter 1 | 2

Ao3 link

Tw for the chapter: Suicidal thoughts, swearing, yelling/arguments, broken bones, losing control of yourself, self-loathing, self-hate (let me know if there is more)

Patton woke up in a strange mood. He had this weird feeling about their new friend. Not in a negative way, but still...something was off. No matter what, he had to make Virgil feel welcome like he deserves. After 5 more minutes of well-deserved sleep, Patton got up from his very comfortable bed and went towards the kitchen to make some breakfast. “Good morning Patton.” said Virgil from the other side of the counter. Patton screamed. “O-oh. Hi, there, kiddo! I’m terribly sorry. I just haven’t really expected someone up this early. My older brother over there will not get up until at least 1PM.”

Virgil smiled a little shy. “That’s okay, Patton. Maybe, I shouldn’t be so quiet after all. I just didn’t want to wake you up. I also tried to make breakfast as a thank you for your trouble in keeping me safe, but...well, as you can see, it didn’t go very well. I’m halfway into cleaning up.”

Patton looked around, a little confused. The kitchen seemed in excellent condition. “Halfway?” Virgil got a little blushy. “Yeah, I...also had to use a small part of the living room. I just couldn’t fit all of my needed stuff here, so..but I hope that’s...okay?”

Patton took a deep breath. Not because he was angry, but because he smelled something...being burned. The living room. He rushed there as fast as he could. Why was the oven in the living room?! How did he not hear all of this? And this smell...was he really sleeping that deep? Gosh, alright. He took the fire extinguisher and stopped the fire from spreading any further. Virgil followed Patton right after. He looked so...tired.

“I’m so sorry, Patton, I probably shouldn’t...I only made things worse, I-” Patton grabbed Virgil’s hands and squished them a little tighter. “It’s okay, Virgil. You did nothing wrong. I actually really appreciate that you’re trying to help us. Maybe the problem is not that you are trying to help, but how. Cooking clearly isn’t something you’re passionate about. Do you want to try something else, maybe?”

“Yeah...yeah, I’d like that.”

***

Roman had many nightmares that night.

He dreamed about being in the forest again.

The first time Roman went to the forest, it didn’t end well. Patton got severely, hurt and it was all Roman’s fault. But this time, no one knew where he was. Roman didn’t even leave a note. If he was going to die today, then so be it. At least, he won’t go down as a coward but as someone who tried to make this world a little better.

He came prepared. He had a gun and a ton of bullets in his bag. If someone is trying to take advantage of poor people who got so unlucky to be in this forest all by themselves...this will be this bastard’s last time doing so.

He searched for way too long now. No one cared that he was here. Why everything has to be always so brutal in his life? He sat under the tree and closed his eyes. He was so tired. He hasn’t slept at all, hasn’t eaten, and worst of all, he didn’t say goodbye to his little brother. Roman opened his eyes again and looked at the gun he was holding. Was his time coming? Was this really it? Maybe Patton was actually better off without him-

“Well, it would be a real shame losing such a well-looking man from this world~” Roman stood up and backed off. He pointed his gun towards a stranger. “Who the fuck are you?” Roman asked suspiciously.

“Oh, such a gentleman and such cruel words coming from his mouth...they do not fit you at all! But...if you insist. My name is Janus. And I’m here to change your life for the better.” Janus smiled reassuringly.

Roman looked at him, surprised. “How? By killing me like all of the other 30 people? I’m already on my way to do that, so you-”

“Demons forbid, no you silly. I’m talking about real help. You always wanted to be a hero, haven’t you? Your history is drawn all over your face...Your little brother, praised all the time, while you...scolded by your parents like some unworthy bastard. But you still love your brother, right? You want what is best for him...but now he’s a hero again. He will be praised by other people for saving some weird stranger. And you’ll never be anything more than a rat. In the shadows of others.”

Roman felt tears in his eyes. “W-what…”

“I know the truth may be hard to hear...but you are the one who showed it to me.”

“Am I that easy to figure out?”

“Well, those are your words, not mine, but you can put it that way, yes.”

Roman lowered his gun and looked down. “I’m such a mess. What am I even doing with my life…? It’s pointless. I will never be a hero.”

“But you can be a hero, Roman! Take my word for it. People will see you. They will praise you, fear you, and scream your name. Roman, Roman, Roman.’’ His name was coming from all the sides of the forest like a calming echo for his soul. No one will remember that little brother of yours. You will be able to come out of the shadows and be above others. All you need to do is to trust me and...take my hand.”

“All I wanted in my life is my brother to be happy and have a good life. I’m...not sure if I want Patton to be in my shadows. He deserves to be in the spotlight. I am not going to take that away from him.”

Janus looked at him with despise. “What a shame. And I thought I could do it the easy way.” He charged at Roman, and before Roman could even scream, everything turned into darkness.

Roman woke up all sweaty and disgusting. His breath was fast, and his eyes were full of tears. He checked his phone. 11AM. This was quite early for Roman, but he couldn’t imagine staying in this bed any longer. He needed to get up...and maybe shower.

He couldn’t stop thinking about Janus. The conversation between them felt way too real to be a dream. Although Roman was very creative, so maybe...hm. Why does it have to be so complicated?!

He got into the living room, where he noticed Patton and Virgil chatting and chuckling. They were so concentrated on what the other said that no one even saw Roman till 5 minutes later. Virgil noticed first. Patton soon after.

“Roman!” Patton got up and hugged his big brother lovingly. His hugs reminded Roman of their mother. She always had so much love and warmth to give. Sometimes he got afraid she wasn’t saving it for herself at all.

Maybe that’s why Roman always pushed Patton to think about himself too. And perhaps that’s why he is such a narcissist.

“Good morning, goofball. How was your night? Did you sleep well?”

“For once, I slept like a sheep. Not even a nuclear bomb could wake me.”

“Well, that’s good to hear. And the cloudy storm over there?” This nickname did not make Virgil happy.

“Why won’t you go ask him yourself while I’m going to make you something to eat? I’ll be right back!” He smiled at Virgil and proceeded to head to the kitchen.

“So…” Virgil started hesitantly. “How’s it go-”

“Oh, please. Save it. I’m not in the mood for acting like I have the strength to be friendly around you. Go be a fake bitch somewhere else.”

Virgil looked at him with disbelief. “Well, looks like I’m not the one being a bitch here.”

“Excuse me?”

Virgil stood up and got closer to Roman while pointing the finger at him. Roman scoffed. “You heard me. Remember, you’re the one who almost killed me. So I simply do not understand why you’re the angry one. You’re ruining the mood, and you make absolutely no damn sense. Patton is probably crying in the kitchen because of you.” Again, he didn’t even correctly wake up, and he already ruined everything. But, you know what? What does this idiot know about Roman? Nothing.

“You are a nobody in this house. I invited you. I can also throw you out...like trash.”

“Please do. Living on the streets would be so much better than living with you here.” Virgil shouldn’t be saying all of this. He was never so aggressive towards someone before. Something didn’t feel right. Virgil decided to step back a little. He sighed deeply. “Look, man, I’m sorry. I know, I got badly hurt, was unconscious for 5 days. Patton probably took more care of me than of you. You have all the right to feel bad. But please, don’t do this to Patton. I can leave if you want...Your brother is probably worried sick about both of us.” For a split second, Roman’s anger disappeared. He felt like himself again. Virgil had such a calming voice...then...Janus...he heard Janus’ voice in his head. “Take my hand.” He remembered everything turning into darkness.

“Shut the hell up. You don’t know anything. Not about Patton nor me. You’re just a meaningless pimp. A nobody.” Before Roman could think, he threw the first punch at Virgil. Where was all this anger coming from? It was almost like, he couldn’t control it...like he was losing himself. But Roman couldn’t stop. He just kept going.

When he came back to reality again, Patton was holding his hands tight. It hurt. “Patton…”

“I-I’m sorry.” He let go of Roman. Patton was shaking. Even Virgil looked worried about Roman. The anger left both of them, for now.

Roman’s hands were hurting. What happened? He looked around. The living room was a mess. Then Roman looked at Virgil. God, he was an even bigger mess. His hair was going in all directions. He had a pink eye and a broken nose.

But Roman wasn’t hurt at all. Virgil did nothing to him. All that was bruised was his knuckles and Roman’s giant ego.

“I’m sorry, I...I don’t know what has gotten into me. I…” Roman got up. He got a bit closer to Virgil, wanting to help. Still, Patton got quickly between them, more worried about Virgil’s safety than Roman’s. Roman got the message. He backed off.

“Roman, he has been here for a week, 5 days unconscious, so I wouldn’t even count those...Virgil got here because you hit him with a car! And you beat him as an apology? That is unacceptable.”

“Patton…”

“No!” Roman flinched. “You do NOT “Patton” me! Not this time. Virgil doesn’t deserve that kind of treatment! He’s here for almost a week now, and you did nothing to make up for what you did. You hit him with a car, then expect him to beg you for YOUR forgiveness? What is wrong with you? I’m going to the bathroom with him to make sure he doesn’t get an infection on his wounds. When we’re back...I want you to not be here. Come back home when you realize you did wrong. And when you’re ready to actually DO better.” Patton was crying while saying all of this. Roman was too. Virgil stood there terrified. Should he feel guilty? He didn’t do anything wrong...he was so confused. Why would Roman hate him so much? Could he possibly be…? No. Roman was a human being. 100%. Right…? But where was this hatred coming from then? Maybe he was just a particular human being. Very annoying as well. Still, Roman deserves a second chance. When he comes back, Virgil will try again. And again. And again. Because that’s what the proper angles do, right? They forgive...and then they get hurt every time they try to. God. What has he gotten himself into?

Chapter 4

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #janus sanders #fic #angst

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stardancerluv · 5 years ago

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Gotham Lockdown 2020

Part 7

Summary: Victor’s take on things.

Warning: None...except you see how Roman was before he met Reader.

Side story to Creative Fervor

Arthur’s Note: This is the first time I wrote Victor. (hope I did him justice!) I took (and expanded on some of his backstory from the comic books!) Additionally, Ewan has worked and walked the red carpet with many lovely ladies. I used a couple shots in the collage for two of then to stand for Circe & Tiffany. (Those were the wife/girlfriend of Roman in comic books!) I gave them both much better storylines especially Tiffany! That’s about it...Enjoy!

“Victor...set me free...set me free..” His mother begged. Her eyes far away.

Victor awoke screaming, gasping for breath. He was soaked to the bone in sweat. As long as he lived he’d carry the death of his parents with him. It was the same nightmare over and over again. Tearing his blankets aside he shed his pajama pants and walked the short distance to his shower.

He turned the cold water on full force. He didn’t feel it. Resting, his forehead against the marble he easily relieved that horrible morning.

“Gonna go for a quick swim.” He had told his mom, as she was grabbing the ingredients for breakfast. He gave her a half hug. “Don’t be too long. I’m making your favorite.” “Yeah..yeah mom.”

Climbing top deck he bad found his father. He rested his hands on his father’s shoulders. “Its gonna be another clear day.” “Another day great day of sailing. Want me to grab some crabs for dinner?” His father shrugged. “Why not.” He a fixed a small net to the belt on his waist. “See you soon.” He adjusted his snorkel mask. Then fell back into the ocean waters like he always did.

He was barely under the surface when he felt the shockwaves hit him. They pushed him further down. Something was wrong, that didn’t happen. Pain exploded in his nose and ears. Despite the horrible pain, he swam to the surface.

When he popped up on the surface. There was no boat. “Mom! Father! He called moving around kicking his feet. Then he spotted a large part of the haul, going over to it, he knew what he saw before he even had to draw closer. It ripped at him. He swam over and found his father already dead slumped, over part of the boat. He had to find his mom. He called out to her. He heard some straggled cries turned he saw her, holding onto cushions. He immediately swamp through the water to her as if it was nothing. Her eyes barely met hers before looking off whimpering incoherently about wanting to be set free. She died shortly after.

“Fuck this.” He slammed his fist into the marble. He shut off the water and grabbing a towel he went and looked out his window, the towel wrapped around him.

He looked out. Still not a soul on the streets. The sun was high in the sky which was a clear blue, like that day. Summer had passed. It had come in hot and brutal and now before it was over, and autumn was grabbing a hold of Gotham.

It was empty, Gotham was desolate. Looking, out his mood shifted. He was grateful to Roman Sionis. With this virus killing people faster then he ever could. He’d would have been dead perhaps in a month or two.

He was Roman Sionis’s right hand man. He took care things. He retrieved and eliminated problems that Roman faced. So when this all happened he insisted that him and his girl stayed at the penthouse. As Roman said after arriving on one of the last planes to land in Gotham, there was no one else, he’d share his space with during the lockdown. You and Roman were the only two he cared about. Well, there was Doll-face, but he didn’t really know how he felt about her. He certainly did miss her.

Dropping the towel in the hamper, he went grabbed a fresh pair of boxers.

As for you, you were interesting. You were the first girl in a long time that he liked. You had spunk, when you talked to him you actually looked him in the eye he was used to most girls adverting their gaze.

Pulling slacks and a fresh shirt, he began to loop his belt to his pants.

Yeah, you were interesting you saw the scars and they didn’t phase you. After that most girls stopped looking at him, forget talking that was over before it could begin. You did something only Roman had been capable of and that was to sometimes forget and that was finding his smile.

The years he had been Roman’s right hand man you were also the only one Roman ever cared about. He had only seen the aftermath of the break up with Tiffany because of Joker had been rough.

You however, caught Roman’s heart. From the day Roman saw you handcuffed in nightclub he was different. Damn, you had been really brave during that whole thing. You earned his respect after that.

Soft, muted moans floated down to him, he shot the ceiling a look and sighed. He pulled on some socks and shoes. That was the only thing that was difficult about the lockdown. Well, to be honest, it had been difficult before as well. He could only get so far without hearing the two of you. The only floor down, you two never did it on the floor he lived on. Everywhere else apparently was open season, he just shook his head. He was going to head down to his room in the basement that held his knives and trophies from the various times Roman gained more control over Gotham.

That was the only thing that irked him about you. Ever since Roman met you, his sex drive had gone through the roof. Sure Roman had anyone he ever crooked a finger at. He’d cum and they would be gone. There had been rare occasiona there would be two girls a night. None of them ever stuck around or at least he didn’t want them too.

Walking in on the two of you sometimes was unavoidable. Roman cared about your decency. Before he could have cared less, if some bimbo was going down on him and he’d walk in. He’d still make her finish.

Well to be honest he grown to care about your decency too. Both you and Roman never wanted you to feel cheap.

So gritting, his teeth he snapped the light and smiled at all the knives that hung from the walls. He’d check on the trophies soon. They needed a good dusting.

*****

Rolling over you woke up, you could have sworn you heard a scream. Hoping it was just a dream, tried to will yourself back to sleep. You even tried to gently roll back to Roman’s solid warmth. It did not work. Sighing, you got out of bed, stretching your fingers reaching as high as they could above your head. Looking back at Roman, he was soundly asleep. He was out for the count. You would have loved to graze your lips against his but you didn’t. Just because you couldn’t sleep didn’t mean everyone else should be awake.

On quiet feet, you snuck into the bathroom. Perhaps, you would make Roman some breakfast in bed you mused as you freshened up for the day. Stretching again all remaining desire to sleep was gone.

You were careful when you opened the door. Creeping out, you went to go put on some fresh panties and clothes.

“You are up early.” His deep voice shook you to your core.

Looking over you saw that Roman was very much awake. Laying there, his back against the headboard, a hand behind his head, the sight made your stomach tighten.

“You are too.” You whispered as you went and sat on the bench. “Would you like some breakfast in bed?”

A smirked curled his lips. “Come over here.”

@darling-i-read-it @spn-obession @vintagemichelle91 @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @ewanfuckingmcgregor @zodiyack @angel98624 @starwarsprequelfangirl @nebulastarr @emyliabernstein @thepeachreads @itsknife2meetu @whyisgmora @theblackmaskclub @omghappilyuniquebouquetlove @nomnomnomnamja

#roman sionis x you #roman sionis x reader #roman sionis fanfiction #roman sionis #ewan mcgregor #bop #birds of prey #black mask fanfiction #black mask #black mask x reader #victor zsasz #victor zsasz x roman sionis #victor zsasz x reader #gotham lockdown 2020 #part 7 #creative fervor

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let-me-love-you-loki · 5 years ago

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Welcome to Oblivion--Ch. 12

Chapter 12

Grand Mountain didn’t mess around when it came to football. The home side of the stadium was packed out with students, families, staff, and supporters from town. People had been tailgating in the parking lot for hours, and the scent of brats and burgers still wafted over the field.

There was a section in the front, right at the 50-yard line, filled with students decked out in purple and gold. They had banners, pom poms, vibrant felt pirate hats, and plastic hooks for hands. They called it the Captain’s Quarters, where the best and loudest of the Pirates fans sat. It was mostly seniors, but there were some underclassmen there, too. I was pretty sure it was a raffle to get in and you had to sign up.

But I didn’t need to worry about the Captain’s Quarters. No, I was tucked beneath the stands in the locker rooms in the Pirate’s Den. The football players were down the hall. It was impossible not to hear them yelling and roaring. I sat next to Peyton in the girl’s locker room with the rest of the Poms. They spent the last few minutes before the game adjusting their uniforms and making sure their hair was curled and bound with giant gold bows.

I’d spent the last month with the team, training and practicing with them as if I was one of them. Coach Helmsley had put me through my paces early on. Only when I’d been able to go through an entire practice with the Poms and keep up did she agree to let me work as a choreographer. It wasn’t a bad deal, not really. Sure, it meant that I had to get up early and might have to travel for away games, but it also meant that I was getting work study. I actually had some money coming in.

I could actually afford to buy food.

“Let’s see how that choreography works out, Holloway,” Coach Helmsley said, her arms crossed over her chest. “Low key home game should be a great place to practice.”

As she walked away, I looked over at Peyton, who was grinning. “This is low key?”

She patted me on the thigh and stood up, tightening her pony. “Your moves are great. And you’ve trained us perfectly. It’s going to be great.”

***

I’d missed sitting on the sidelines of a football game. I was in a folding chair against the concrete wall, settled several feet behind the Pirates bench. The team had run by me as they came out of the Den. Roman and Drew led the charge, both looking twice as big as normal with all their gear and padding. Jimmy, Jey, and Baron were deep in the throng of players.

The last time I’d watched a football game from the sidelines, I had been on crutches with a braced knee and forced to watch my teammates perform my choreography without me.

I’d forgotten how fantastic it was to be so close to the action. The sound of heavy bodies wrapped in protective gear was one that you never forgot. And truly, it was one of my favorite sounds in the world.

Thirty minutes into the first half, I was out of my seat and standing just behind the bench, shouting and clapping as they set up for a difficult play. The Pirates were fourth and fifteen and already down by a touchdown and two-point conversion. They’d been pushing hard toward their opponent’s endzone, but the Cougars had a good defensive line.

Drew was the first-string quarterback, and he’d been shouting plays at his teammates during the huddle. I could hear his angry Scottish tone from where I stood. I bounced up and down on my toes, clapping hard, cupping my hands around my mouth and shouting, “Come on, boys!”

The play slammed to a halt when Jey, the left side running back, got tackled six yards from the fourth down. Cursing and yanking his helmet off, Drew led the offense back to the bench. Roman, the lead defensive tackle, grabbed his helmet and started toward the field. As he passed by Drew, he smacked his friend hard in the chest and shrugged. Well, as much as someone can shrug wearing football pads.

Roman was a beautiful thing on the field. He was brutal and quick.

The offense was back on the field in ten minutes, Roman and his line having shut down the Cougars’ push.

***

Peyton and the Poms took the field for halftime, and I was a nervous wreck. I was terrified that it would fall flat—not because they weren’t amazing athletes, but because my choreography just wasn’t good enough. My hands were caught in a nervous knot as I watched them from the sidelines. Coach Helmsley stood a few feet away, her arms crossed over her chest, frowning as she watched the performance on the field.

It was my make or break moment. If this didn’t work, I’d be off my work study and back to square one.

When the performance was over, the Captain’s Quarters erupted with cheers and applause. The Pirates, having just come back out of the Den, whistled and called playfully as the Poms jogged off the field, bouncing their pompoms in the air and smiling. Peyton rushed over to me as soon as she could break the line, grinning from ear to ear.

Her Australian accent was thick as she hugged me tightly and squealed, “It was so good, Addy! Seriously! It was amazing!”

She squeezed me one more time before disappearing down the tunnel to the locker room.

“She’s right, baby girl,” rumbled Roman’s voice nearby. I glanced over, feeling heat rush into my face, and saw him grinning lopsidedly from the bench. His hair was tied up in a knot, and sweat streaked down his neck. “You did a great job.”

He stood up, looking taller than ever, bulky in his pads and gear. A few steps later, he was right there, towering in front of me, one arm slithering around my back to tug me in. The plastic of his protective gear dug into my flesh, and I could smell the sweat and heat coming off him. His black eyes were bright and teasing.

Roman leaned down and, in front of God and everybody, kissed me soundly on the lips. He chuckled when he drew back, watching my face go beet red. “Let’s get some pizza after the game.”

All I could do was nod, dumbstruck and dizzy with the realization that he’d just kissed me in front of an entire stadium of people. Sure, most of them probably hadn’t noticed. But he’d done it. He certainly couldn’t have staked his claim on me any more adamantly.

***

We sat across from one another at the Mom and Pop pizza place in town, a basket of breadsticks in the middle of the table. He was surrounded by an overwhelming scent of clean. I didn’t know if it was body wash or deodorant or cologne, but it smelled wonderful. Sharp and sweet, with a bit of mint underneath.

“Have fun at the game?” he asked a few moments after we sat down.

I felt the smile as it spread slowly over my face. “Yeah. You were great. Just… you were amazing.”

He chuckled and looked away, his cheeks turning red. Roman ran his hand over his goatee, trying to hide his smile. It was cute that I could make him blush. I wanted to do it more often.

***

“Sorry,” Roman mumbled as he unlocked the door of his apartment. “I’ve been meaning to take this over to Drew for weeks. Just let me grab it real quick.”

I nodded, following him in the door. He flicked on the light as he tucked his keys in his pocket. The apartment was small and sparse, though it was clearly lived in. To the right of the door was a wobbly-looking table with four mismatched chairs. Straight ahead was a kitchen, sectioned off from the rest of the room by a long, low counter. The left side of the room was taken up by a large TV on a black table, a Playstation on the shelf beneath, and a squishy looking couch and chair. A hallway went back deeper into the apartment. I could see one door from where I stood.

Curiosity pulled me closer. I peeked around the wall and saw another three doors in the hall. One stood open, and I could see a mirror over a narrow sink. Another, the one at the far end, stood wide open, lights on. Roman appeared as he moved around, trying to find whatever he needed for Drew. He glanced up, and I tried to slip back into the living room, but he saw me.

“Come on in, Addy,” he said, laughter in his voice. He stood at the door waving for me to join him.

I tiptoed past both closed doors and stopped just on the threshold of Roman’s bedroom. It was roomy, the walls painted a soothing sort of blue. A queen-sized bed was shoved into one corner. A desk was tucked against the other wall with a lamp, a stack of textbooks, and a half-open laptop. Instead of a regular desk chair, he had a worn high-backed armchair.

He stood at a battered wooden dresser, digging through the top drawer. On top was a framed photo of Roman with who I assumed were his parents and a few worn paperbacks. A pile of DVDs teetered on the ground beside it.

“You can sit down if you want,” he said over his shoulder, still digging through one drawer after another. He muttered to himself, swearing that he’d just had whatever it was the day before.

I slipped past him and sat gingerly on the edge of the bed. It gave beneath my weight and the scent of laundry soap and that sharp-sweet-mint that was wholly him wafted up. The urge to curl into the pillows and just breathe in the scent of him was almost more than I could manage.

He turned around, his smile slipping a little when he saw me sitting on the edge of his bed. I was reminded again how tall and broad he was as he stepped closer. My fingers gripped the edge of the mattress, suddenly afraid to move.

Roman brushed his fingers against my cheek, brushing my hair back behind my ear. I leaned into his touch, my eyes slipping closed. His thumb brushed along the curve of my cheek and the line of my jaw, soothingly warm with long, slow strokes. My heart jumped into my throat, and I suddenly was desperate to kiss him.

“Addy.” He said my name like he couldn’t believe I was there. It made butterflies take off in my stomach.

I skimmed one hand up his chest and over his shoulder, curling my fingers behind his neck. Before I could second-guess my courage, I tugged him down, meeting his mouth with my own. He let out a groan that rippled through his chest.

The hand on my cheek slipped into my hair, fingers pressing firmly and sweetly against my skull. The other leaned into the mattress, bearing his weight as he kissed me like it would be the last time. I forgot everything except the feel of his hands and the taste of his lips.

He broke away, forehead pressed against mine as he panted to catch his breath. I looked up at him and caught sight of his face, his eyes shut, cheeks flushed, brow furrowed as if he was concentrating very hard on something. Warmth spilled into my limbs, dragging me toward something I didn’t have the words to describe.

“Ro,” I murmured, brushing my lips against his gently, barely. “Kiss me like that again. Please?”

He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut tightly. His breath came in faint panting gasps. I let my nails scrape against the back of his neck as I tried to pull him closer. “Please?” I whispered again.

Roman leaned into me, pressing me back against the mattress as he kissed me. His tongue swept across my lips, demanding entrance. I sighed and wrapped my arms around his neck as he settled over me. One arm tucked beneath me and lifted me fully up onto the bed. My sandals caught on the edge of the mattress and fell off, thumping to the floor. A moment later, two other muffled bumps followed.

He gathered me against him. The heat that radiated from him made my head spin. I dug my fingers into his hair, working the knot loose and pulling the elastic free. His hair fell around us, tickling against my cheek.

Something burned through my body. It was a want more than anything I’d ever known. I returned his kiss with wild abandon, wriggling until I was pressed firmly against him. He groaned and snatched at my waist until I could feel every muscle in his chest and every expansion of his ribs as he breathed.

“Addy,” he mumbled, his mouth leaving mine and trailing down toward my ear. His beard scratched wonderfully against my throat as he kissed and nipped at the curve of my jaw. He panted against my skin, and his fingers dug into the flesh of my hip in a wonderful way.

I ran my fingers through his hair, feeling the strands slip like silk along my skin. My body was suddenly too heavy, too warm. Every nerve ending was alive and singing with sensation.

“Roman? Can I stay the night?”

He pressed his forehead against my collarbone and groaned. “Please.”

#welcome to oblivion #roman reigns #college au #college!AU #college!shield #polyamory #polyamourous relationships #seth rollins #dean ambrose #roman reigns fanfiction #addy #addison holloway #roman x addy #multi-chapter #romance #ofc #oc #wwe #wwe fanfiction

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ladyhistorypod · 4 years ago

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Episode 13: Only the Good Die Young

Sources:

Ryu Gwansun

History Channel

Internet Archive

Wikisource

Korea(.)net

Further reading/viewing: Pantheon, Memories of Cell No. 8 (YouTube), A Resistance Trailer (YouTube)

Brittany Murphy

Investigation Discovery

ET Canada (YouTube)

Biography, Brittany Murphy: The Mysterious Circumstances Surrounding Her Untimely Death

Rotten Tomatoes, 11 surprising things you probably didn’t know about ‘Clueless’

Buzzfeed

CNN

Alice Ball

Biography

National Geographic

Oxford Museum of Natural History

ScholarSpace University of Hawaii Manoa

Chemistry World

Click below for a full transcript of the episode!

Alana: So the title of this episode is Only the Good Die Young, right? Haley: Yeah. Alana: And I know it's a song. But that's not even true, because people are complicated, first of all, and all dichotomies are false dichotomies, even that one, because there are some true dichotomies. And goddammit that's a Hank Green quote. Lexi: Yet another episode where the Greens slipped in. Alana: Because I love one man and his brother. [INTRO MUSIC] Alana: Hello and welcome to Lady History; the good, the bad, and the ugly ladies you missed in history class. I'm not quite with Lexi. Lexi, what's the worst part about doing this on Zoom? Lexi: Dang. The worst part about doing this on Zoom is if I wanted to make cocktails and give them to you guys I would have to mail them and then the ice would melt so that would really suck. Alana: Also almost here is Haley. Haley, what's the best part about doing this on Zoom? Haley: Seeing your lovely faces. We spent like three, four years together just seeing each other every single day and that was the worst part about going to grad school was I didn't have you guys. Alana: And I'm Alana and I haven't spent this much time in a closet since 2014. Haley, laughing: Oh, shit. Lexi: That's good I love that. That adds a little light. Alana: A little levity. Oh my god Haley’s losing it. Lexi: A brief warning about the following story. This story includes police brutality and torture. If these subjects are uncomfortable for you, please skip to the next story. Archival Audio: Arirang Lexi: You just heard the song Arirang, an approximately six hundred year old folk song which is on the UNESCO Intangible Cultural Heritage List. During the fight for Korean independence, protesters sang the song as a symbol of Korean spirit. We will tell the story of one of those protesters today; Ryu Gwansun, listener suggested by my sorority sister Kate. Shout out to Kate. My sister from George Mason. I love her and she suggested this lady and it was a really good suggestion. Alana: Wait it's– it's another Korean lady. Lexi: Yes. Alana: Which is the language that you studied in school. Lexi: Yes so it all comes back. And I actually had heard of Ryu Gwansun before, so I was excited to dive deeper into that story and share it with other people because every Korean teacher I ever had brought her up at some point. And if you take Korean history in a college setting, one of the days will be about her, inevitably. So every year in Korea, the people celebrate Independence Movement Day on March 1, and Koreans call this day Sam-il, which literally means three one. This annual event commemorates the protests that took place on March 1, 1919, a large resistance of Japan's military rule of the Korean people. For some context, in 1910 Japan annexed Korea without the consent of Korean leadership. Japan's rule in Korea sought to assimilate Koreans to Japanese culture. It would take a whole episode to explain this entire story and how the U. S. is involved in a whole bunch of other things, but for our purposes it is important to understand that this was like overall a really bad time for the Korean people. Korean culture was restricted, Japanese individuals moved into their land, and violent military rule by the Japanese became the norm in the Korean Peninsula. Additionally, Koreans were forcibly removed from the peninsula and taken Japan to work as forced laborers. So, as you can imagine, there was a lot of resistance to the Japanese in early 20th century Korea. One act of resistance was a protest that occurred on March 1, 1919, Sam-il. On that day, thirty three activists gathered in Seoul and read aloud the Korean Declaration of Independence, which begins “We herewith proclaim the independence of Korea and the liberty of the Korean people. This we proclaim to all the nations of the world in witness of human equality. This we proclaim to our descendents so that they may enjoy in perpetuity their inherent right to nationhood.” Obviously that was said Korean, translated to English for our listeners. This moment was just the spark that began a fire of resistance with communities across the peninsula beginning to protest the Japanese occupation. One protester was Gwansun, who had represented this moment in history for generations of Koreans and today serves as the main symbol of the March 1st movement. Gwansun was born in modern day South Korea, but of course at this time Korea was still one unified nation, so that doesn't really matter, but she was born in a province that's now modern South Korea. She was born on November 17, 1902 so happy birthday to her two days ago when this episode airs. Her father was a reform-minded Methodist and an enlightenment thinker. And in 1918, Gwansun was admitted on scholarship to the Ewha Girls’ School. It's a school that still exists today and has a long list of famous graduates. It is not to be confused with Ewha University, which is a prominent women's university in Seoul, but it is in Seoul and it is Ewha’s girls school so I can understand why people mix them up. The school, along with many others in the country, had become a hub for young activists to learn and discuss the Japanese occupation. Together, they dreamed of Korean independence, so it was very much a young people's movement, and they protested actively cheering “long live Korean independence!” Japan, noticing the schools were becoming organizing hubs for young activists, shut them down. So, Gwansun was sent back to her hometown where she continued to rally support for Korean independence among her community. The school closures were catalysts for national unity among the Korean people and ignited a wave of new activism. So everyone was like “they closed our schools, let's all get together and really start to protest.” So Gwansun recruited people to participate in protests with her on March 1, 1919. The protests would take place at the Aunae– I might be saying that one wrong, I couldn’t find in Hangul, only in English so I'm reading the Romanized version not the Hangul which is why I'm pronouncing it really badly– the Aunae Market. And soon Japanese police forces arrived and began to shoot the Korean protesters who were unarmed. And the police killed nineteen people, including both of Gwansun's parents. The police arrested many of the protesters, including sixteen year old Gwansun. In custody, Gwansun was offered a deal; if she pled guilty and outed her fellow activists who organized the event, the Japanese police would lighten her sentence. When Gwansun refused to out her co-conspirators, the Japanese police tortured her. Despite being beaten, she still resisted giving up any information, thus maintaining her role in the fight against Japanese oppression and violence. Many other women who fought for independence were imprisoned with Gwansun at Seodaemun prison. One year later, on March 1, 1920, women in the women's walk of Seodaemun prison began to chant “long live Korean independence.” The chant spread across the prison. One of these young women was Gwansun. I actually got the chance to visit this prison when I was in South Korea in 2018, highly recommend going there it's now a dedicated history museum with exhibit materials in English, Korean, Chinese, Russian, and a couple other languages. And I got to see cell number eight in the women's branch which is where Gwansun was imprisoned, and it's now dedicated in her honor and it’s set up as an exhibit for her. They had really immersive exhibits to explain her story so it was a very moving experience. After the chant, Gwansun was transferred to solitary confinement. Just two days before the end of her sentence on September 28, 1920 at the age of just seventeen, she died in prison from injuries sustained during torture. Never abandoning her beliefs, she continued to advocate in prison, writing in her diary “Japan will fall. Even if my fingernails are torn out, my nose and ears are ripped apart, and my legs and arms are crushed, this physical pain doesn't compare to the pain of losing my nation. My only remorse is not being able to do more than dedicating my life to my country." It would be another twenty five years until Korea gained independence, with Japan being defeated in World War II. Gwansun has been remembered in popular media, including in Korean films and books, and the trailer for one such film that just came out last year will be on our show notes in the tumblr, it's called “Resistance” in English, it looks really cool. I haven't had a chance to watch the whole film yet but I watched all the trailers that are on YouTube because I was just so captivated. The young actress who plays her seems really really talented so I will be watching the whole thing. Join me in watching it at some point, definitely check it out. And Gwansun is seen as a martyr for the Korean independence movement. She is still honored by Korean people to this day. A shrine was erected to her in home city. It's a really cute statue of her holding up a flag and protesting. And many scholars refer to her as Korea's Joan of Arc, but I don’t like when we compare women to each other. I really think Gwansun is Korea’s Gwansun. She is a woman who died far too young, fighting for what she believed in, and we deserve to remember her in that way. Haley: I love your note on not comparing women to women because… Lexi: It bugs the shit out of me. I just… Like, why does she have to be compared to particularly a white woman, white Christian woman. But why does she have to be compared to anyone else? She did something incredible for her people. Maybe Joan of Arc is France’s Ryu Gwansun. Archival Audio: Before you lies the most glamorous city on Earth. Hollywood, California. A city where men and women skyrocket to fame or crash to oblivion.

Haley: I'll be talking about Brittany Murphy, and with this a brief warning of death, poisoning, murder, and eating disorders. I really struggled with picking a lady today because it was either someone who recently died, which I felt very awkward talking about, or a very small child, which I just, again, mental health needed a break. However, I recently watched Clueless and there is a new ID Mystery or Investigation Discovery coming out so drum roll I had to pick Brittany Murphy. And a lot of me in remembering my deep dive of her life when she died in 2009 and she's one of the first celebrities I remember as a– like a death, like they're dying being reported, and me as a young child having that connection being like “I know who that is I've watched her movies, I've seen her, I had a connection. Also I believe it was around the time my grandfather died, so I kinda– it's been very strange. Whenever someone significant in my life has died another celebrity that had a significant impact in my life also dies around then, so that also had an impression on me. So we all know her as Tai Frasier from the 1995 classic Clueless. However, her big break actually came from becoming a regular on the sitcom Drexell's Class at age fourteen, and honestly it was no surprise that she became such a huge star because around age eight she was begging her mom to start acting, and by age twelve her mom was like “you know what, sure. Let's do this thing. We'll see what happens.” And almost immediately she was booked for gigs, and it was like gig after gig. Back to Clueless. As if - heh - I were gonna just not talk about that movie. Brittany’s character Tai is a new student who's described as hopelessly klutzy and who gets pulled under the wing of popular socialite, Cher, and once she gets that classic makeover, her popularity skyrockets. And yes, this is the movie where the main character starts dating her ex stepbrother who's Paul Rudd. Utter classic. I believe it's still on Netflix. Do yourself a favor and watch it. Alana: It’s based on Emma… Haley: Yes, yes. Alana: And at the end of Emma, Emma starts dating her brother-in-law, so… Haley: So along with the movie being absolutely iconic, it's over twenty five years old so we get a lot of like the fun facts or the tidbits being released. And honestly, not many reference Brittany Murphy. I was really surprised by that. A lot of them of course are on like Cher, being the main character, but a lot on like the director, creator and the costume designer. But for Brittany Murphy I was like oh my gosh I just have all these fun facts in my brain that I just remember from her In Memoriam reel but I couldn't find like the evidence to back it up. But my two favorite were the insult that Tai and Cher like were arguing and Tai goes “you’re a virgin who can’t drive.” Alana: Way harsh, Tai. Haley: Chef’s kiss line. Well, Brittany Murphy was actually the virgin who couldn't drive, which I thought was hysterical. And at the time I watched Clueless I was also a virgin who couldn't drive, so I don't realize like why that was an insult like yeah, what? Alana: I still can't drive. Haley: Like do you not have a license or you’re just a bad driver? Because I’m a shitty driver but I have like– Alana: Oh, my license expires in January. Haley: Oh, okay. Also the scene where she gets hit in the head with like a clog in that like house party, it was a little bit of movie magic if you will because they did the scene with like a prop and it just looked really really fake so when they went in post they superimposed a shoe or whatever like hit her, I believe it was a clog, so the movie would look more realistic. And now I really want to rewatch the movie to see if I like they got it just right with the editing. Now doing a one eighty to her death. As I said, Investigation Discovery has a new episode documentary. In the show notes, I’ve linked it, it’s free. It calls it like episode one or something and I believe it's like forty minutes long, so it's something you can do while you're building a bookshelf, cooking dinner, trying to fall asleep; that's how I watched it, please don't read into that. And the episode documentary is not necessarily on her death that she died, but investigating it as not actually an accident from the perspective of her father really spearheading this. So her father, before he died in 2019, was like “I need to investigate this more,” did a bunch of interviews on how he believes that there is a little more to the story about his daughter Brittany Murphy dying at the age of thirty two. And a lot of my notes come from the documentary or commentary from it and I'm doing a warning in addition to my previous trigger warning that there are a lot of nine one one calls and as Investigation Discovery does, it covers the tragic story without holding anything back. So if that might be a little too much, you'll have a snippet here today. A very abbreviated version, if you will. So her official death from like LA county or like the coroner there in 2010 was said to be a combination of iron deficiency, anemia, pneumonia, and a combination of prescription drugs- like heavy doses of cold medication. But originally, the report was written as a heart attack, and I believe that one of the coroners told news outlets that her death appeared natural. I just want to pause and say a thirty two year old should not have like a natural death if it was ruled as a heart attack. And even kind of with the like documentary, I was having a hard time with like which coroner said what. Maybe that was just me watching this after my stressful life just being my stressful life with work and school. I really want to watch it with you guys too. There are also rumors that she had a drug problem and an eating disorder which could have contributed to her death, but when I was reading like some news outlets and it was like the really crappy tabloids it was like “she died of an eating disorder” and like no or like if she didn't have an eating disorder she would've lived. And there was nothing to say that she did or did not have an eating disorder per se, like at that time. I couldn't find any credible sources from 2009/2010 that she did have an eating disorder. All I could find was like “Brittany Murphy is looking really skinny” and that that’s… as a person– I’ll go out and say it– who has struggled with like eating disorders in the past, I will never say this person had an eating disorder, this person didn’t. I could not find Brittany Murphy coming out and saying that she had an eating disorder. This is all speculation. Even if it comes from a doctor, even if it comes from her dad, speculation. I’m not a doctor. Before her death, both Brittany and her husband Simon Monjack believed that they were being watched by the US government, and Brittany was reportedly a witness to Julia Davis, the Homeland Security employee who called out some of the problems within the organization. So that was kind of like a part that I– people are like “oh she could’ve been murdered, taken out by the government.” And I really didn't know where to put this note in, because it was kind of like she was saying it before she died as well, and she was, I think, a little paranoid from this. Also before her death, Simon and her mother were both sick in Puerto Rico. Brittany was filming The Caller, they went along for a vacay and things just turned nasty. You get sick, that's also like just like a common thing… getting sick on vacations. However, she was reportedly fired on like the first day and some kind of like pointed to her husband causing a nuisance on set for being like drunk and such. So things are just like being very weird. Like a lot of first like the government coming in thinking that she was being followed or watched and now being on a film set and her husband causing a huge disturbance. And sometimes still while on this island, like I said Simon and her mother got sick, so much so that on the flight home, Brittany had to give her husband CPR. And someone, I believe it was Simon claimed he was having a mild heart attack. So again we have this heart attack cause of illness coming back. So of course we get to the part where Brittany now gets a little cold, and it isn't just a little cold. She gets laryngitis. Apparently she got her second period in a month, hence the anemia. A lot of list of just the dominoes hitting the fan of she was essentially sick for six weeks, which takes a toll on any body, regardless of if you were healthy before or not. And she even had a doctor's appointment for the Monday after she died and I believe she died like on a Friday night at home. So fast forward a few months to now her husband dies, of like similar causes. And this was also sketchy because not only did he die like in the same room, same bed, his death was also ruled as quote “severe anemia and acute pneumonia.” So now like bells should be ringing off like what the fuck what the fuck, this is just a few months after her. And another weird part was that there was like an alleged scandal that he also had a relationship with her mother. Things are not adding up. Just to like wrap this whole thing up, like her father said in one of his last interviews he just didn't feel right. This didn’t sit well, and he continuously made allegations against other family members, and he just really wanted to get closure on her death. And that's basically where it ends– where it’s we don't know, we just now have all this new information and people like Investigation Discovery documentary episode are just trying to put it together. Alana: That's a heavy one. Archival Audio: From the Middle Ages, down to modern times, the magic of chemistry has fascinated mankind. Alana: So I don't have a content warning for this one aside from like she died when she was young and that's hard to talk about. Alice Augusta Ball was born on July 24, making her a Leo, 1892 in Seattle, Washington. I'm gonna make that my thing that I just note the star signs of my ladies. Both of Alice's parents and her grandfather were photographers, which meant that because of like photographic technology in the late 19th century Alice grew up around the chemicals that were used for developing photographs at the time. In 1902, when Alice was ten, they all moved to Honolulu, hoping that the change in climate might alleviate her grandfather's arthritis and other medical conditions. Alice's grandfather died two years later and the family moved back to Seattle where Alice graduated high school in 1910 with stellar, amazing, incredible, top of her class grades. She earned a degree in pharmaceutical chemistry in just two years and then a degree in chemistry in four years, both from the University of Washington. She went back to Hawaii to get her master's degree in chemistry from the University of Hawaii which was then called College of Hawaii. She was the first woman and the first Black woman to get a master's degree from the university of Hawaii. She graduated in 1915 and then that fall she became head of the chemistry department. Her thesis was about isolating the active ingredients in kava root for medical purposes, and this is why Dr Harry Hollmann, an assistant surgeon at the local hospital, sought her help. At the time, the best treatment for Hansen's disease, A. K. A. leprosy, was a pill or an ointment made from chaulmoogra oil, which was derived from the seeds of a tropical evergreen tree called the chaulmoogra. So isolating these active ingredients in plants would be an excellent skill to have if you were to research further on chaulmoogra oil and cures slash treatments for Hansen's disease. She juggled teaching and research as a twenty something. And the time management skills of this woman, that within a year she had created a water soluble solution of chaulmoogra oil which meant it could be administered directly into the bloodstream and be much more effective. It. Worked. The practice for people who had been diagnosed with Hanson's or leprosy was to group them together and isolate the group. This is where you get the phrase leper colony. One of my sources called this treatment only partially effective, but holy shit! Because of Alice, those people got to go home to their families. So I don't– partially effective? No. I hate you. I don't hate you, thank you for writing something that I could read for free, but come on. Alice died December t31 1916 at the age of twenty four, after a lab accident while she was teaching gave her chlorine poisoning because lab ventilation wasn't required yet. Her work was stolen. And this you'll see when we talk about– when I talk about Rosalind Franklin in January that stolen work of women in STEM is kind of a theme for me. Arthur Dean, the college president who took over her work after she died, but basically all he did was publish it, only mentioned her name once in the publication and started calling it the Dean Method. Luckily, Dr Hollmann was like “um. No ma’am.” and actively started calling it the Ball Method, and that's the name that stuck. And this method was used until the 1940s, so for twenty years, until sulfone drugs came onto the scene, and they work better or something. I… As previously mentioned, I am not a doctor. Just a little bit about her legacy, as of 2000, February 29 is officially Alice Ball day in Hawaii which… February 29? Really? The twenty ninth? A date that doesn't really exist? Come on. The University of Hawaii Manoa also offers the Alice Augusta Ball scholarship for students majoring in chemistry, biochemistry, biology, or microbiology. They also have a little plaque for her on their chaulmoogra tree, which is just small but I think it's cute. But Alice's work basically cured leprosy. And was just like– people weren't contagious and could go back to living with their families and living their lives and just being people. And then this is one of those things like in a general sense that I'm like, how many great, incredible, fantastic, smart, brilliant minds are we stifling due to systematic oppression? because Alice was so amazing and smart and was able to accomplish all of these things as a Black woman and overcame like– every single source that I read was like this was so strange for a woman, for a Black person, for a Black woman to be doing. So like, larger than anything that she personally could have done, which I think if she had survived this poisoning or if there were… if ventilation was a thing in labs, could she have found the vaccine for leprosy? That I don’t know whether or not we have. I can't really tell. They were working on it at one point according to one of my articles, that was in 2018 and it was promising so it might be done by now. But like what are we as a society missing out on by making life so difficult for anyone who isn’t a cisgender straight white man. Like all of these amazing… Lexi: Snaps. Snaps to that. Alana: Thank you. I'm very frustrated by systematic oppression these days. It's like Covid, systematic oppression, how systematic oppression is making Covid worse in places… Lexi: There's gonna be a Black woman in the White House. Alana: There’s gonna be a Black woman in the White House. Lexi: Just to make you feel a little better. Alana: I do feel better about that. Haley: It makes me so happy. Alana: I do like that. And then her husband is the first Jew in the White House. Haley: Really? Alana: Yeah. Haley: I really wish like we could've called him like the First Doug, because I feel like that's awesome. Yeah, the First Doug. Lexi: Second. Second, because it’s a VP’s spouse. It’s the Second. Alana: Yeah, Second Doug. Lexi: A Doug that really went up the ranks. Alana: I think the vibe that is going to end up happening is First Gentleman– Second Gentleman because that’s what they do for governors. Haley: But like I want Second Doug and then like forever it just be Doug. Lexi: Oh, it becomes Doug, even after. Haley: Yeah. Alana: I like that. Lexi: Kinda love it, it's like oh the Doug. Alana: I'm not a fan of Second Dude, I don't care for that I think that's like… Lexi: Yeah I don't like that. We need like a Spouse of President. No like a SOP. Alana: SOP! Lexi: You can find this podcast on Twitter and Instagram at LadyHistoryPod. Our show notes and a transcript of this episode will be on ladyhistorypod dot tumblr dot com. If you like the show, leave us a review, or tell your friends, and if you don't like the show, keep it to yourself. Alana: Our logo is by Alexia Ibarra, you can find her on Twitter and Instagram at LexiBDraws. Our theme music is by me, GarageBand, and Amelia Earhart. Lexi is doing the editing. You will not see us, and we will not see you, but you will hear us, next time on Lady History. Haley: Next week on Lady History, it's our U. S. Thanksgiving episode, and we’re doing a deep dive into Native slash Indigenous peoples’ history. [OUTRO MUSIC] Haley: Are raccoons like ducks where you can just like pick one up off the street? Lexi: That’s not true for ducks, we talked about this. You can’t steal wild animals.

#womens history #history

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runabout-river · 5 years ago

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Chicago P.D./Mayans M.C. crossover Part 1

Thanks for @hardcore-flower who came up with this crossover idea, which I couldn’t stop thinking about the last few days. I love crossovers, though in this case I have to admit that I didn’t actually watch Mayans M.C. but I did watch Sons of Anarchy from start to finish, which is probably the reason why I immediately started daydreaming about this:

(note: unlike with @hardcore-flower ‘s idea, I don’t think Antonio would actually join a criminal gang, I also had background hanktonio planned but in the end I left it out completely, also just the spare backdrop of the Mayans on account of me not knowing the show, also also this got so long that I had to split it into two parts)

Part 1.

The tension between him and Hank was climbing higher and higher though it was obvious that Antonio suffered significantly more under it than his boss. All of their strife came directly from their police work, especially when Hank’s brutality and cover ups escalated again, something that slowly started to bleed into their personal lives. He tried to fight that criminal energy that reared its ugly head every time their job became hard, or when it was just that easy to get away with it, and at first he believed in himself and Hank.

The Intelligence Unit could and should operate lawfully and under public scrutiny but with the way Hank was handling many of their cases it seemed as if he saw himself as the arbiter of the law and the only protector of his sheep, the innocent populace. Antonio believed in law and order and that no one should be above it. Not criminals, not Hank.

He thought it meant something when Hank became the sergeant of the IU and didn’t throw him out immediately. That him trying to have Casey killed really was just a one-time act of temporary desperation and insanity. Later he thought that he could be some kind of counterweight to Hank’s worst ideas and impulses, balancing out the unlawful interrogation techniques by reducing them to a bad cop/good cop routine or just making sure that all the threatened violence really was just for show.

At first it all seemed to work out, at least to an acceptable degree which Antonio could live with. He spent his whole career working in Chicago and as sad as it is to admit but police brutality of varying intensity always existed in the force and Antonio himself ended up being complicit in it, especially in his younger years. But he expected better from the Unit in this day and age and set out to make it so.

It worked for some time but unfortunately just as Hank’s police conduct got worse, Antonio’s resistance and endurance of dealing with it got brutally hit as well. Physically he had to deal with getting shot at for the second time in two years, courtesy of some drug dealers and Pulpo, which later led to being prescribed Oxycodone to deal with the pain. Laura left him on top of that which hit him hard emotionally. Three years into working with Hank and Antonio’s mental wellbeing was suffering which the addiction to his painkillers both helped to alleviate but also made him hurt in other ways.

Then Justin died and everything went from bad to worse. Hank killed his son’s murderer which Antonio confronted him about immediately afterwards. But it was a bad time to oppose the sergeant and Hank made sure that Antonio felt it for the next year. Physically hurting suspects became the norm instead of just an extreme occasion. Even threats against mere witnesses became more and more common and were followed through in more cases than Antonio liked to admit.

And worst of all? The team got turned into Hank’s way thinking, following his orders without doubting them in any meaningful way. Antonio never counted on Erin and Olinsky to rear Hank in but to see the rest of them not only going along but actively participating in illegal interrogation techniques, illegal observation and the kind of brutal police work that would go viral if it were ever recorded on a phone, saddened him to an unimaginable degree. He should have prevented this but obviously he failed.

He should have tried to build some kind unity with the others who were thinking more like him when he had the chance, but Whilhite died and left a gaping hole in Antonio’s heart. Ruzek found his new mentor in Olinsky and Hank fired Sumner at the first excuse. Atwater was more malleable than he thought and Burgess was too eager to serve some kind of justice instead of the right one. Roman was a good police officer but Hank would have never put him into the unit. Mouse, like Jin before him, had not much of a say in the way the unit worked and Nadia would have followed more into Erin’s footsteps than someone else’s. Trudy didn’t work inside the unit but unfortunately she herself had a certain tolerance for Hank’s behaviour as long as she didn’t see it with her own eyes.

Only Jay was his last hope but that hope diminished with every new case. Maybe it was because of Erin or maybe it was Antonio himself who couldn’t keep him in line, but Jay had less and less to say about hitting a suspect one too many times and lying about it later, or about rearranging the scene of a shooting to suit the needs of the IU. He was even passed the point where he either removed himself from the brutal interrogations or watched them silently.

Right now Jay was a willing participant in all of that, ready to excuse anything and everything they did in the name of justice served. Worst of all Antonio could see the guilt in his eyes when he heard those words from him, making him feel bad deep down because he was the one who brought Jay into the team. Jay’s sense of moral integrity seemingly eroded before his eyes and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

And Antonio himself? If he was not getting outright benched for certain raids and suspect retrievals he was sent to other places, far away from whatever fingers were being broken right now. Opposing Hank was unbelievably stressing. Being put into place was humiliating. Reporting the most egregious instances to the higher ups felt more and more like putting his carrier and occasionally even his safety on the line.

His pill problem only got worse because of that. Every back and forth with Hank and every losing argument with his team got so stressing that he took one like a smoker would a cigarette. It was sad and infuriating at the same time, frustrating and heart breaking in equal measure. Sometimes Antonio didn’t know where to put all his emotions or what to do with them deep in the night. When he finally found room to breathe normally again a nagging thought kept him awake, that maybe, maybe he had problems other than just an addiction.

In the end it was fear that slowly started to rule his life, mostly the fear that he might end up like Jay, of surrendering his principles to Hank Voight. When the next case came everything in Antonio’s life seemed to come to a halt. The case was convoluted and a little chaotic, one where you just had to work through tons of witnesses who named more witnesses, where you had to temporarily expand your IT workforce because of the insane amount of data that needed to be analysed.

But the Intelligence Unit had more “efficient” ways to fall back to, direct and critically faster as Ruzek said. Uncompromising police work was necessary as Burgess put it. It came to a point where the team expected everything that came out of Antonio’s mouth to be a critique of some sort and they went the extra mile of shutting him out beforehand. It wasn’t just Hank anymore, it was the whole team this time. He was being excluded on the grounds of not bending the rules and laws to his whim, of not being a criminal with delusions of righteousness. It was devastating.

His last confrontation with Hank went poorly but this one was just plain awful, the backlash more than excessive. It got physical for one, and one of the others was also there to witness it. He tried to get across just how unnecessary any violent action was right now, an ironic statement if there ever was one as he was uncomfortably pressed against a wall at that moment, but his sergeant basically took that as an attack against his character, his authority and even his whole career which he sacrificed so much for.

It ended with him being sent home for the day, an action that mystified Antonio to no end. Why wouldn’t Hank just fire him already if he was just that much of a hindrance to “real police work”, if he was always “guilt tripping” everyone out of “spite”. If they didn’t want him there then they should just throw him out. Vote on that if they have to, hardly anyone would be on his side. So instead of going home he drove back to the station, taking two pills after getting into the car and another one inside the police building.

He went their room up and down for a while, only pushing himself to come to a decision when the arrival of the others became a dreadful possibility. He printed out the resignation form, filled it out and put it on Hank’s desk. Slowly and haltingly his badge and gun followed. Antonio took one last look around the office, swallowed another pill and left while forcing himself not to look back.

(note: I would apreciate it immensely if someone with mother tongue level of english skills could beta for me before I put this on Ao3 :)

#antonio dawson #hank voight #jay halstead #chicago pd #mayans mc #headcanon #police brutality #one chicago

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xpouii · 5 years ago

Text

Tentacletober Day 9

Hello! This is late! It’s also extremely triggering, so please heed the warnings. Also, I don’t condone the behavior in this story. I don’t condone things through my writing, so there you go.

Prompt: Surprise Tentacles

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Characters: Virgil, Patton, Deceit, Roman, Logan, Remus

Warnings/Tags: SFW, violence, child abuse, self-harm, blood, mental illness, swearing, generally shitty parenting, unsympathetic Patton, unsympathetic Deceit, please be safe when reading this if you are triggered by any of the above

“Virgil Gerard Heart!”

Virgil winced, pulling his hood up and tightening it. Patton cut him off, blocking the door, “Virgil, honey… look at me.”

Virgil tensed, his hands were shaking, but he lifted his face to his father’s squaring his jaw. He’d put on eyeshadow, smearing it under his eyes, and he desperately wanted to keep it on, “It’s just-“

“No,” Patton said, cutting him off. “Why do you want to look like a dead person, honey? Go wash your face and hurry up now. Where did you even get that makeup? From that Prince boy? Or the little smart one… oh what’s his name, Lance? Lance Berry?”

“No, Dad it’s just-!”

“Virgil if you don’t march up those stairs right now you’re not leaving this house.”

“Dad that’s not fair! It’s a mandatory band trip; come on!” Virgil begged. “I’m not a little kid anymore. Please just let me-“

“Dee honey!” Patton called over Virgil’s shoulder, “A little help please?”

Virgil clamped his mouth shut so hard that he bit his tongue, tears welling up in his eyes but he stayed silent, eyes on the floor. Deceit stuck his head into the living room. “What is it?”

“Look at our son,” Patton said. “Please just… talk some sense into him alright? He’s going to be late for his little band trip and I have to finish these dishes!”

Virgil’s heart sank as Patton swept out of the room. Patton always left, because he couldn’t stand to see what Deceit was about to do, even though he knew it by heart. Deceit lifted Virgil’s face, “Your father told you to clean your face?”

Virgil’s bottom lip trembled, “I-“

The slap was brutal, and Virgil stumbled into the wall, grabbing on and trying to hide his face, but Deceit pulled him back, “God damn it Virgil how many times are we going to have these talks?! When are you going to start listening?!”

Virgil opened his mouth, but Deceit struck him again, this time in the mouth, and Virgil tasted blood. He closed his eyes and cried, “I’m sorry! Please I’ll wash my face! Please I’m sorry!”

Deceit pulled Virgil in by his hoodie, glaring into his eyes, “Go wash your face and then apologize to your father. And you’d better not be crying when you get back down here or so help me god, Virgil you will miss this trip. I don’t care if it is mandatory!”

Virgil walked—he wanted to run, but that would only make things worse—up the stairs and into his bedroom. He closed the door silently, carefully, and walked into his bathroom. He lowered his hood and looked at his face. His lip was busted, and he spat blood into the sink. His face was red on one side, an angry welt from the open-palmed slap. He unzipped his hoodie and shrugged it off, splashing cold water on his face and scrubbing until his entire face was red, and his tears and eyeshadow were gone down the drain. Virgil brushed his teeth and used a thin piece of wet toilet paper to stop the bleed in his mouth. His eyes stopped on a bruise just below his elbow—and the forest of cuts from wrist to elbow—and then he pulled his hoodie back on, turning off the light and rushing downstairs.

Patton was in the kitchen, humming happily to himself as he finished up the dishes. Virgil’s shoe squeaked on the linoleum and Patton turned with a smile, “Oh honey, there’s my beautiful boy.” Patton crossed to Virgil and took his face in his hands, kissing his forehead. “I’m sorry, baby. You know your father has a temper. I wish he wouldn’t be so hard on you… but you know it’s because he loves you. We love you so much, Virgil.”

Virgil’s lip quivered but he held his emotions back, knowing better than to cry, “I’m sorry Dad. I should have done what you said the first time. I shouldn’t have upset you.”

Patton smiled and pulled Virgil into a tight, warm hug, stroking his hair, “Virgil, I’m never upset with you honey. You’re my perfect, sweet boy. Now, hurry up and get to the school. You’ll miss the bus.”

Virgil took the affection greedily, like he always did; it was the only thing he could depend on just as much as Deceit’s violence, and even though Patton’s kindness was somehow even more cruel, he still craved it like oxygen.

Virgil jogged to his truck, climbing up and starting it. He glanced at his reflection in the overhead mirror before pulling out of the driveway and heading toward the highschool. After turning off out of his suburb, Virgil leaned over and fumbled in the glove compartment, pulling out a small jewelry box. He’d taken it out of the trash when Patton had given Deceit diamond cufflinks for their anniversary. Now, it held a very different treasure. Virgil took out one of the razorblades, flicking off the cardboard guard and putting it in his mouth. He held it delicately between his front teeth, letting his lips tease against the sharp edge. He hated being such a statistic, but he wasn’t exactly the only one to blame. When he was twelve, Patton had sent him to a therapist when he accidentally burned his wrist with his hair straightener and Patton was convinced it was intentional—in truth Deceit had beat him so badly his hands were still shaking. Virgil had gone obediently and listened to a counselor tell him why he self-harmed, all of the control, the endorphins, the release. When he’d gotten home from that session, Virgil had immediately taken one of Patton’s razorblades from the bathroom and sat in the bathtub, cutting tiny lines in his inner thigh. He still saw the therapist, but now he wore hoodies and chewed toothpicks and rolled his eyes. What was he supposed to do? Roll up his sleeves and show all of his little scars—maybe he would have, if he ever went to the therapist without bruises. If he ever went out in public not having to hide the black and blue humiliation Deceit gave him.

Virgil pressed his lips together and the razor split his bottom lip, just next to the cut Deceit had made. He let the blood flow for a moment, down his chin like a lover’s touch, warm self-indulgence, and then he took out the razor and threw it out the window, wiping his chin with his fingers and licking the blood off, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. By the time he reached the school parking lot it could have just been a lip cracked by the dry weather. Virgil put the small box back in his glove compartment and used his chapstick before he jumped out of his truck. He took out his backpack—and his previously stowed clarinet—and locked the truck—smirking to himself at the thought someone would actually steal it. But if a security guard went snooping and found his razorblades, he’d be in deep shit. Virgil jogged to the bus that blazed in the early evening like a beacon. He climbed up and saw two familiar faces, allowing himself to smile.

“You were almost late, you big slut!” Roman scolded and Virgil laughed.

“Parents were being assholes,” Virgil said, sliding in the seat next to him.

Across the aisle, their friend Logan sat with his feet up in the seat, communicating a clear message, “When are they not?”

“Isn’t this exciting!” Roman interrupted. “The audience is going to be the biggest we’ve ever played for! Mom already drove up to set up her camera.”

“It should go well,” Logan said. “The last practice was fairly seamless.”

Roman rolled his eyes playfully and nudged Virgil, “What about you, Virge? How do you think the clarinets will do?”

Virgil smiled, “As long as I don’t mess up, it’ll be fine. I’m just so glad the director didn’t decide to give me the solo.”

“Well he wanted to,” Roman said. “You wouldn’t let him.”

“If he did my parents would have come, no way I could’ve hidden it from them if I was going to all the solo practices.”

Roman shrugged, “Well I think it would’ve been better in your hands.”

“He’s right,” Logan said. “You’re first clarinet for a reason, Virgil.”

“Well you two got the solo stuff you wanted so I’m just glad about that.”

“I’m the only cellist,” Logan said. “There was literally no competition.”

“But-“

“Well I am proud of my position,” Roman said. “Oboe tunes the whole band.”

“Even if it didn’t you still have your own entire song with the piano,” Logan said.

Roman sighed happily, then frowned, “Yeah mother says it’s a hollow privilege because I have no true competition.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, resting his head against Roman’s shoulder. His cheek complained briefly against the rough fabric of Roman’s letterman jacket, but it wasn’t long until Virgil fell asleep to his friends’ gentle bickering.

Virgil unlocked the front door and let himself in quietly, closing the door behind him and crossing the livingroom in the dark. He almost went to his knees when the lights flipped on, and Patton was sitting in his chair, knitting. “Hey kiddo. Awfully long trip to see a concert.”

“Y-yeah,” Virgil said. “Well, traffic was-“

“Mrs. Berry called me about an hour ago,” Patton said. “She wanted to congratulate me on how well you played at the concert.”

Virgil’s heart dropped and he froze, “Dad, I-“

“Go to your room, Virgil,” Patton said. He looked hurt, and that was the most terrifying thing he could be.

Virgil raced up the stairs, closing his door and throwing his backpack into his closet. He stripped his clothes off and threw on his pajamas, jumping into bed and covering up his head. Deceit would be there eventually, and Virgil prayed for it to be quick, and then he could cry himself to sleep, where he’d be safe. He was still trying to calm his breathing when the door opened and the lights turned on. Virgil squeezed his eyes closed as he heard the footfalls cross to his bed, “Did you brush your teeth?”

Virgil whimpered, “N-no sir… I’m sor-“

“Sorry? Oh you’re sorry are you Virgil? Are you sorry for breaking your dad’s heart?! Because that’s what you did! You lied and you hid the concert. He cried for an hour, you ungrateful little bastard.”

Virgil squeezed his eyes closed; he knew what was coming, but he had no idea how long the lecture would last before the violence started. The hand in his hair drug him out of the suspense—and out of the bed. His knees hit the floor and he cried out, struggling as Deceit dragged him into the bathroom. Virgil wrapped his hands around Deceit’s wrists to help keep him from pulling out any hair as he hauled the boy across the floor, jerking him to his feet and pushing him against the sink. “Do you need help with your nightly routine, Virgil? Is that it? You’re not mature enough to do your own grooming? Do you need me to brush your teeth for you?”

“No Dad please! I’m sorry I’ll do it please!” Virgil sobbed, staring at his own terrified face in the mirror.

Deceit slammed his knee against the back of Virgil’s and the boy went down, hitting his chin on the sink and biting his tongue—bleeding again. He drove his boot into Virgil’s ribs in a brutal kick, causing the teen to sob and curl into a fetal position on the floor. Fixing his shirt, Deceit cleared his throat, “If your teeth aren’t brushed and you aren’t back in bed before I come back in here—ten minutes, Virgil. You won’t be going to school for a week. I’ll make sure of that. Do you fucking hear me?”

Virgil trembled, unable to make a coherent reply, but Deceit left him, and he managed to drag himself up from the floor and brush his teeth, spitting blood. He washed his face, trying to fight away the tears as he crawled back into bed, wincing at the unpleasant grab in his side when he did so. He held his breath when he heard Deceit open his bedroom door, hallway light flooding in. Virgil forced his eyes closed and waited, biting down on his knuckles hard enough to leave deep toothmarks. When the door closed again he let out a shaky breath, but there weren’t anymore tears to release. So much for crying himself to sleep. Despite the dry eyes, Virgil did eventually drift off, the tremble in his breath melting as his chest slowed, and sleep took him.

Virgil

Virgil jerked awake. He’d heard something, a voice? Something crawling on his floor? He sat up and looked around. It hadn’t been Deceit, or he’d have been slapped awake by now. Something—a snake? A rat?—slid under his bed and Virgil gasped, curling back up in bed and pulling his covers over his head. Whatever it was, if he made a fuss, he’d be in for another beating.

Virgil

Virgil’s eyes snapped open, and he rolled over to the edge of the bed; he’d heard a voice. He was sure this time. He looked down for a moment before pulling himself down and looking under the bed. The darkness stared back, and Virgil tensed, chewing his lip as he moved to climb back up onto the bed. Suddenly, a writhing mass of tentacles shot out and wrapped around him, arms and throat, yanking Virgil underneath the bed. Virgil cried out as darkness enveloped him.

He sat up as soon as he felt his body land on the floor—ground?—and scrambled to his feet. He was in something like a cave; water was dripping somewhere nearby, and trickling over rocks. He didn’t notice the man until his eyes adjusted, and then he screamed.

“My my what a set of pipes you have,” the man said. “But calm down. I may be the monster under your bed, but I’m not here to eat you.”

Virgil blinked, “Am I dead?”

The man—monster?—rolled his eyes, “You think you’re in heaven? Do I look like God to you?”

“I didn’t expect god to have a pornstache that’s true.”

He cackled, “Pornstache! Oh that’s a good nickname… but I feel like it’s been done. Let’s wait a while until Orange Is the New Black has settled down before we really go for it, hm? So, Virge. I’ve been watching you a long time.”

“Creepy,” Virgil said. “Why?”

“It’s what we do, monsters, cryptids, whatever you want to call us. Humans are interesting—they’re very weird. But, you’re such a sad sack I couldn’t just let it stand anymore. I thought I’d pop in and cheer you up!”

“By kidnapping me,” Virgil said, “Sure ok… what’s your name?”

The creature was thoughtful, a few tentacles emerged—from his back maybe?—and twisted around as if he were fidgeting, “Well, I’ve got a few. When you live forever you pick up names don’t you? They’re like herpes, not generally welcome but always dependable! You can call me Remus.”

“Remus, like Professor Lupin?” Virgil said, walking over to the cave wall where lewd art had been carved with a rock. “Or like… Remus Dănălache?”

Remus raised an eyebrow, “What now?”

Virgil shoved his hands in the pockets of his basketball shorts, “My dad watches a lot of European football.”

“Ooh, which one? Hug Dad or Punch Dad?”

Virgil winced, and Remus hissed apologetically, “Yeah maybe be a little more chill when you bring up… Punch Dad, alright?”

Remus clapped his hands together, “Let’s go do something fun, Virgil! What do you like? Besides chewing on razorblades. I love doing that but… I’d better not bring you home covered in blood or your parents—or my parents—would probably be pissed.”

“Wait you have parents? Monsters have parents?”

“How else do you think I got here? Do you think I crawled out from under a rock?”

“Well you did crawl out from under my bed!” Virgil said. “But like… sorry. Ok you have parents… does that mean you’re not an adult monster?”

Remus sighed, “Monsters age slow, so no. I have to be six thousand before I’m considered an adult and I’ve got another five hundred years before that happens. But I’m practically an adult. I can jump.”

“Can’t everybody jump?”

“Not like that, dummy. I can dimensional jump! It means I can interact with your world and bring you into mine! So, why don’t we… go scare your neighbor, the old bitch who complained about your music that day you had the window open and Punch Dad broke your stereo.”

“Yeah, Ms. Miller,” Virgil muttered. “What do we do?”

Remus grinned, offering Virgil his hand, “Just follow my lead.”

#tentacletober #virgil sanders #unsympathetic patton #not safe for sanders #fanfiction

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xathia-89 · 5 years ago

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From a Fire in the Woods

Introducing my new OC: Caitriona as having been showcased in @muggzc amazing stuff (go check it out). This is her beginnings, and she is a pain in the ass.

Thick black smoke was filling the air, the sound of screams and pleading of lives surrounded her. They'd fought so hard, moving every few days and making ends meet by posing as gypsies, but something had given them away as her legs were burning from her running. Her black hair was braided out of the way, but her pale amethyst eyes were full with the acrid smoke. They were destroying every part of their existence, as her survival instincts were her only thing right now.

Her parents were gone, they had been some of the first to be killed. She knew they were looking for her as she leapt over a fallen tree, desperate to find somewhere to hide.

She heard a mix of foreign languages before she ran. They were a mix of Parisian, Viennese, Florian and Roman. She knew enough to know who was after them as she squirrelled away under the fallen tree. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her arms wrapped around her body as footsteps came and went.

She knew all of the horror stories. It was all the village elders would talk about around the campfire, but she had always written it off as a story. It was designed to stop them straying too far, but now she could see it was all a watered-down story to the reality she was experiencing.

"Mademoiselle?"

She kept herself perfectly still. She didn't want to be found, she would end up dead if she was thought to be alive.

A soft hand, brushing her face in surprise and making her flinch. He gently scooped his arm around her shoulders and then under her legs, making sure not to knock her head.

"I know you are awake," his voice was soft. "I won't let them hurt you."

She didn't want to open her eyes and let him win. The Parisian was spoken fast and furiously, it soon became apparent that they didn't know each other all that well since the man sighed once they had passed the initial questioning of the camp guards. She barely knew any of the language, she knew what words to listen out for, and not one of them had been uttered in the conversation just gone. She knew what he was and he likely knew what she was, but he must have a hidden agenda.

He had someone else hold her before she was passed up to him. He had her settled in front of him on his horse and then waved himself off. The lack of resistance told her that he was an important one, possibly one of the principal families. Which only confused her.

"We are not far outside of Paris, I have a house here where you can sleep and rest up. Then you have a lot of questions for me to answer, I am certain. But you need to eat and sleep first."

True to his word, he didn't ask her anything. They arrived, and he gave her plenty of space. It was a substantial house, several bedrooms and even a private lake, which made her stare in awe. She was used to sneaking into places like this to bathe as the man gave her all the space.

"There is one other resident here," he informed her. "But he is on the top floor. I will leave you on the ground floor and instruct him to leave you be. I will get you some clean clothes, and I will have no doubt that you have already seen the lake, so I will leave you to it. I will be in the first room after the entrance when you wish to find me."

It was beyond puzzling. He should have killed her on the spot, but he was actively helping her past those who he should be calling his allies. He was living up to his word so far, but she couldn't let her guard down.

The lake was cold, but it took the dirt and ash off her. Her clothes were ruined now she had a chance to take a look at them, which made her a little sad. It was the only physical connection she had, and there was no way to salvage them before she reluctantly dragged herself back to the manor. Her stomach was complaining violently, it had been a couple of days since her last meal. The pursuit had been brutal.

She stood at the front of the house, her head tilted to the side before the sounds of Paris filtered past. It was all behind a barrier, designed to keep them out, and the residents of the house inside.

"I promise you that you will come to no harm," he was watching her. It was unsettling. "I arrived too late to help properly. For that, I apologise."

"How do I know I'm just not going to be your food supply?" She couldn't help herself. She felt like a trapped prey.

"Because I would rather end myself. Though I am certain, you know exactly how to. Besides, your blood is poisonous to us. That's part of your charm. We can't feed off you."

It made her pause and frown.

"I see that fact has slipped from memory. My mother was killed by a village elder of your clan. She fed from a witch, and it seemed to spark ruthless anger. I was away to tend to her. Do you remember anything leading up to the pursuit? The other vampires won't tell me what happened."

"We've been on the run for a few days. Stopping to change horses and drink enough to keep going, we haven't been able to get any food. I just remember seeing my parents sounding the alarm that we were under attack. All of the older adults were constantly coming and going beforehand. I was trying to get the herbs to pay for our next meal without needing to steal."

"I am sorry for your loss. I have had some bread, meat and cheese prepared for you. It is warmer insider," he gestured, his arm showing her the way.

He was pleasant enough to keep his distance as she did eat. Her magic told her it was safe before she couldn't help but delve in like a starved animal. He watched her from the doorway, a bottle of blood in hand.

"I still don't know why you are helping me," she said, pausing in her feasting.

"Because I had the means to save you all. And I didn't. I selfishly chose to spend time with my dying mother, who had no chance of being saved."

"That still doesn't mean you need to do this. You could kill me before I kill you."

"I have need of your magic, and in return, I will give you protection."

"Why my magic?"

"Your bloodline is talented. I need some help to make sure I can protect any more residents I do so happen to pick up."

"I will have a long list of requirements for you then."

"Then I believe we may be in business. May I know your name? I am Monsieur Le Comte de Saint Germain."

"Caitriona."

A smile. And it wasn't looking at her like she was food. "Then I believe you are in need of sleep after this. We will discuss the details later on."

True to his word, anything she wanted was gifted to her. She had a small apothecary on the outskirts of Paris, he furnished her out, and he would pay for anything that needed repairing. She had never known such luxury. She had someone chopping wood for her, the blacksmith would repair anything without coming to her for payment. She would also find out that Le Comte would give the butcher, fishmonger and farmers an advance for the week to supply her. She found herself mostly on her own, she worked on her magic to Comte's means. He rarely came to her, only when she had sent word.

Then she found her first patient. A woman was heavily pregnant, but the child has died in her. It was too long for her to bring him back, but the mother was in danger of death as well right now. She delivered the child and gave her all of the potions to ensure the woman would recover and even deliver a healthy baby for her next time.

Word spread quickly. Some accused her of witchcraft, but Caitriona snorted and gave them a show of the herbs she used. The loudest complainers would usually be on her doorstep in time. A relative dying she could help, she made sure to learn some incantations from the Bible, covering up her work as that of God's will. She could save the dying within reason. She knew when it was time to help someone along their journey and when they had more living to do.

The years passed into centuries.

She was stood in front of her finished product, next to Le Comte. Two intricately carved wooden doors, it had taken her decades of work, and she had been missing on more than a few occasions much to Comte's misgivings until she always returned.

"What is this?"

She was holding out something seemingly insignificant, a small charm made of silver by all appearances.

"The only thing to guarantee that you can travel freely between the two points in time. I have no way of guaranteeing where you come out on the other side, but I will promise that you will find what you are looking for. Anyone else travelling with you will need to be touching you, or they may get lost for all eternity, and even if I was to go looking for them, then I could not promise to find them."

"Where does it exit?"

It's a fixed point in La Louvre. Humans will pass the door by without a wish to use it. But I've also installed a protection feature," Caitriona paused and gestured to the large and ornate hourglass. "You can only use it once the sand has fallen through. Otherwise, you risk doing irreparable damage. Once you have passed through, you have 2 days to come back, and the door will not unlock from the other side until another turn has been completed."

"Thank you."

"Mm, I wouldn't thank me just yet. I can still kill you with my blood."

"If you do so you will be hunted until you are dead. I know my kindred know I am harbouring a witch from all that time ago. I have had demands from the Da Vinci family to pass you over."

"Caterina can suck a goose. Her son will be of more interest, I don't know entirely when he will be born, but I know the two of you will become fond of each other."

"I am sure that we will see."

#ikémen vampire #Ikemen Vampire #ikevamp le comte #le comte de saint germain #le comte #OC Caitriona

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