#still getting over the sudden ending of this SR and I’m working my way through it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dumbass-tumbler-cryptid · 1 year ago

Note

Oh yeah, I would totally love seeing bits of Spider's childhood in To Be Your Own Man!

So originally when i saw your ask earlier today I was just going to say yeah maybe down the line I'll write a few one shots in this Au or something but then a whole story popped into my head and I couldn't resist so here you go!

I'm thinking of calling it Military Brat

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Miles Sr sighed as he looked out his bedroom window. The world was still and dark, not even the birds chirping to herald the dawn. He quietly set about his morning routine being careful to not wake the toddler sleeping on the other side of his bed. His little boy had had another nightmare last night, an event that had steadily increased in frequency since the sudden death of his wife.

The father was ready to leave only half an hour after waking, dressed in his military uniform, sipping coffee out of a travel thermos. He sighed again, as he stood over his peaceful son. He hated to disturb him, but he had no choice. He laid a gentle hand on the boy’s little shoulder, rocking him awake. The toddler whimpered in protest. “Come on tiger. We need to go.” Finally he sat up, rubbing his tiny fist into tired bleary eyes.

His father scooped him up, carrying him to his room, to get him dressed and ready to leave. He was still so sleepy, that his Papa manipulated him like a rag doll, pulling uncooperative little limbs into clothes, cradling his son's face in one hand while he attempted to brush the toddler’s wild mane of bright blond curls with the other. His boy fell back asleep, a thin line of drool escaping his mouth and landing on his father’s dress pants.

Another deep sigh. This was going to be a long day.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

He arrived at his office promptly at 5:30, immediately setting about his work. It was his first day back after his bereavement leave and he had a lot to do. “Hey boss,” Lyle called from the hall, shouldering his way through the door, “I’ve got some paperwork I need to go over with you….” His second in command looked up, finding his nephew sleeping against his father’s chest. The office itself had been toddler proofed, an absurdly tall toddler pen tucked into the corner by the desk. “…what the hell?”

“Ssshh, don’t wake him up.” Miles Sr scolded.

Lyle quietly shut the door, taking a seat, whispering,“I thought you were kidding when you said you’d be bringing little Miles to work with you.”

“When have you ever known me to kid?”

Lyle gave his boss an exasperated look, “you can’t bring a toddler to a military base every day.”

The father shrugged, “sure I can. I’m the boss.”

That simple logic did not assiege his second in command's doubts, “have you never heard of daycare?”

Miles Sr scoffed at this, “as if I’d let some stranger watch my boy.”

Lyle rolled his eyes, “boss…I know you're going through it right now after Paz’s death but…”

He was cut off by a withering look, “Junior is staying with me. End of story. Now what did you need to talk about?”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The morning had gone smoother than Miles Sr had bargained for. Junior had fully woken up around seven. He had looked around the unfamiliar surroundings curiously before his eyes found his Papa, who was diligently working on his computer. The father took a quick break, to give his son some breakfast, then put the boy into his play pen. The thing looked more like a toddler prison, specially built by Miles Sr himself, to be Junior proof. He swore his son had learned to climb before he could even walk. The toddler had been escaping every play pen he had ever bought since he was ten months old. So he took it upon himself to make something tall enough to keep Junior contained that lacked space for any tiny feet or hands to find purchase.

Until lunch Junior was content to play in his “baby jail”, babbling to himself while banged his toys together. But after hours of this the boy had had enough. “Papa. Papa,” he called reaching his arms up in a bid to be held. Miles Sr lifted his son up, cradling him on his lap while he continued his work. “No, no,no. Down. Down, Papa.” Tiny fists collided with his chest as Junior squirmed for release. He sighed returning the boy to his play pen. “No!” Tears started to spring in his big brown eyes. He reached up once again. “Papa!”

The father sighed, while picking up his son. “I know you want to run around but y’a can’t,” he gently scolded, “so you can either play in your pen or sit on Papa’s lap. Those are your options.” The boy pouted, eyes watery. When he didn’t respond his Papa chose for him, returning to his desk with Junior in tow. He bounced the toddler on his knee in an attempt to comfort the sniffling boy. It didn’t get him laughing like he had hoped but Junior at least calmed down.

Then little hands began reaching for things on his desk. Junior was quick too, one second watching his father type, the next snatching a pen, or important document laid out in front of him, crushing it in his fist. For the hundredth time that day Miles Sr sighed, gently prying his son’s hand open to release the objects. He checked the time. It was almost one, well past time for him to take his lunch break. He stood, setting his son on the ground while keeping a hold on his hand. “Let’s go get some grub.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

What was a military obstacle course if not an adult sized playground. That was Miles Sr logic anyway as he ate his lunch, while keeping an eye on Junior as he happily climbed around the line of tires they used for high stepping. The boy looked so proud of himself as he played, sunlight in his hair, a big smile on his face. The sight made him smile too, his heart warming with love. Junior hadn’t smiled that wide since Paz had died.

The realization made him lose his appetite, throwing the last of his sandwich to the birds. He approached his son, crouching down to his level, “what’cha doin’ tiger.” He playfully ruffled his hair making the toddler laugh. He scooped his son up, throwing him into the air and catching him. Junior alway loved that, shrieking with joy as he flew through the air.

Half an hour of intense play time should do the trick, Miles Sr thought as he began to chase Junior around the deserted field. He’d get all that extra energy out of him, return to his office, then put his boy down for a nap.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The day was drawing to a close. Junior had napped for the majority of the afternoon only waking up within the last hour of the work day. He contentedly played with his toys after that, until his Papa stood from his desk and started packing up his briefcase. “Ready to go home?” Papa asked, lifting him out of the pen.

“Yes!” The toddler cheered. Miles Sr carried his son down the long halls of the base receiving a mixture of different looks as he went. Shock, disbelief, even a few laughs at the sight of their big grisled commander, with his adorable son balanced on his hip.

The Colonel abruptly turned on them all, causing them to frantically avert their eyes. There was a beat of silence where every soldier in the room felt their heart in their throat then, “say goodbye Miles.”

The little boy’s eyes lit up, as he turned in his fathers hold to face the crowd, “Bye, bye,” he said with a tiny wave. Even the most hardened soldier in the room couldn’t help but find it cute. Some even waved back. With a smirk Miles Sr continued making his way to the parking garage. He definitely felt more tired than he usually did after work but it had been a wonderful day, better than he ever could have imagined given the circumstances.

Once Junior was settled in his car seat, his father began the journey home, reflecting on how the day went, and how he could make it better tomorrow. Because this had to work. Now that he was a single parent he had no other options, no family he trusted to look after his son, and definitely no preschool he’d entrust with his boy’s care not until he did a thorough background check of every worker, and family that entered the building. And that took time, more time than he had.

Besides, after everything their family had been through recently, he wanted to keep Junior close. His son was so innocent and vulnerable. He couldn’t stand the thought of any more misfortunes befalling him. So the best place for him to be was with him, where he could protect him from every hardship the world had to offer.

#miles spider socorro #miles quaritch #spider socorro #colonel miles quaritch #my fanfic #avatar the way of water #avatar fanfiction #avatar 2

22 notes · View notes

leviiattacks · 4 years ago

Text

Boxer Levi & Coach Reader

author note :: i lost the ask for this, but this is not good at all. quite literally the worst thing i have ever written /srs anyways,,,,, anon said they wanted me to post it no matter what so i hope you do enjoy whatever this is,,, the pacing is non-existent and it has not been edited 👍🏼

requests are always open :-) i promise i am usually better than this,, anyway i may just use this as a rough outline for a fic 🤔

word count :: 5.4k....... yeah......

you and levi become acquainted with each other in university. it’s all very cliche if you do say so yourself. he steps in playing the role of good samaritan heroically saving your wallet and wordlessly he hands it to you even after running for the thief. the man doesn’t do as much as pant in exhaustion.

his stamina is…never mind that, his reflexes are out of this world

he expects a thank you because anyone else would expect at least a token of gratitude shown via words but the sentence you want to ask only ends up trapping itself in your throat

it comes to the point where he nods understanding maybe you have a sore throat or just don’t want to thank him at all

eyes flicking to his hands you immediately lunge forward taking your chance.

almost immediately you feel regret for holding onto the wrist of a complete and utter stranger without permission

“your stamina it’s great!” the man turns to you, he isn’t smiling but he’s definitely intrigued by the sudden change in behavior

and that’s where it all begins

levi’s horrible at getting to know strangers, even worse at forming bonds and connections. maybe that’s why he doesn’t warm up to the idea of having to deal with new people and new settings all at once

“i hope you’ve met your coach this is aman-” introductions are cut short by levi stubbornly interjecting in the middle of your sentence

“i have, but is she you?”

pursing your lips an awkward chuckle leaves your mouth, you look around uncomfortably wondering what he means.

“well, no?”

“then i won’t box.”

?????

you don’t even know what to say??? here you were thinking maybe he would be a little more cooperative than this.

his index finger points right at you and he takes a step forwards. his shoes come into contact with yours and you find yourself holding your breath apprehensively.

“i won’t box unless it’s you in charge.”

that is when you and levi formally meet for the first time. you are but an inexperienced coach and he, an inexperienced boxer.

“i’m getting drinks you want anything?”

“oh no don’t worry i’m good!!” you smile at levi and he nods his head venturing off to buy himself a bottle of sparkling water

levi has had you coaching him for a few years now

really he doesn’t think he’s ever felt more than respect for you. respect for the way you stay back late with him to train, respect for the schedules you make him and he’s most definitely respectful of your boxing knowledge

sure out of the two of you he’s more physically capable but it doesn’t change the fact that he becomes frustrated when he’s told he has to spend a day without you.

it’s not like you think that levi cares or anything, nothing sappy like that.

he just probably hates, no, despises having to listen to anyone else’s instructions. he finds that they somehow sound demeaning or less sincere.

every instruction you give him has a reason behind it. you don’t beat around the bush and he’s stated before that he enjoys that he knows he’s developing his skill set and progressing when he’s with you.

the olympus ring - one of the largest boxing competitions known to man is approaching soon and if levi manages to place in the top two his career is set to sky rocket in no time at all

that thought makes you feel unusually nervous

worry gnaws at your mind and you wonder about whether or not he’ll replace you after the competition concludes. after all who wants a coach with little fighting experience? all you really know is from your family. your brother and father had been professional boxers years prior.

you have no doubt at all that levi will place number one that’s for sure but you really hope he doesn’t find a replacement for you.

you’ve never had much faith in your coaching and to be left behind in the dust hurts you a tiny bit but you never bring it up because you know what? levi progressing in his career will make him happy :-)

levi’s happiness over yours and it’s not good to be selfish you suppose >:(

“y/n.” he’s waving a hand in front of your face, you’re uncharacteristically quiet today and he’s caught on

“you awake?” he asks again.

upon receiving no response levi’s now waving his hand with more tenacity

“wake. up.” he flicks at your forehead and you stir a little finally coming to your senses once you see him leaning up above you.

he looks taller than normal from this angle and your cheeks blaze, he has a habit of walking around shirtless whilst training and doesn’t realise the effect it has on you

“i- yeah good totally good. just thinking.”

“thinking about?” levi kneels to the floor looking you in the eyes and your mind falters wondering when it was he began to sit so close to you. it feels like it was just yesterday when the two of you used to eat lunch separately out of embarrassment.

the silence stretches for a second too long and his eyes narrow suspiciously leaving you to think on your feet

“i well, you have a press conference soon and i have to think of transportation and-”

“coach. i can deal with that.”

you’re a little stunned when he says that because he’s never tried to take away from your responsibilities in the past. is this a hint that he no longer wants you around?

“but it’s my job?” you reply back feeling threatened

“but you’re always doing it. i can figure it out this once.”

without even hearing the rest of what you have to say he stalks back towards his punching bag leaving your chest empty

he’s definitely thinking of replacing you is what you think

really this should not be getting you worked up.

you’ve known levi for years, you should have faith in the fact he trusts you but you find yourself indulging in self doubt more often than you intend to

guilt fills you as you scroll through the multiple job listings in front of you but you have a justification. this is your lifeline, you can’t afford to lose your source of income and it’s best to be prepared

however there’s no real amount of preparation that can get you used to the prospect of not seeing levi every day

he’s sort of just made a space for himself in your daily routine

chewing at your bottom lip you can’t get through one job listing without thinking about him and you shut your laptop down thinking tomorrow will be a better day and you’ll check back in then

why does levi even matter?? he’ll officially be an ass when he dumps you of your position?? who cares about him???

but that doesn’t stop you from caring and now you’re hunched over your closed laptop trying to understand what it is that’s making you feel this way

maybe it’s the whole attachment you have with him??

he is the very first person you’ve ever coached that’s true

he’s made you proud and allowed for your name to get out there in the boxing world

maybe that’s what’s holding you back from looking into other jobs

but that reason doesn’t make much sense

you should still be frustrated with him.

AND

you most definitely should not care about how he’s doing OR worry about who’ll patch him up when he ends up stupidly injuring himself during practice (he does that a lot)

“why do i care so much for him?” you type into google thinking there’s no person on this earth that can help you with this predicament now

honestly at this point asking AI is probably going to have to be your only reliable option

tapping on one of the first links you hope to find your answer

“what happened? yeah, you had sex?” pops onto your screen and you tap off as quick as possible.

no. you did not have sex. oh god, you haven’t even touched levi much. the most you’ve done is lace your fingers with his and offer him a hug

are you meant to have… had sex???

is it wrong for you to feel that way withou-

okay enough. this has got nothing to do with sex and your feelings are still valid. maybe you are right and you’re attached to him that’s it!!! right?

scrolling further down you nearly give up until you reach another link titled “the science of caring for those who don’t care for you.”

rolling your eyes you still hesitantly tap praying you find some sort of answer

and an answer is what you find that’s for sure

staring you right in the face in bold letters

1. you feel responsible for that person

not really, he’s very independent.

2. the person is a family member

absolutely not

3. you could be romantically attracted to the person in question

…….

romantically interested?? no. that’s wrong. not true. incorrect. not right. just not real. you are not romantically attracted to levi

,,,or are you?

that does explain why he makes you feel jittery, it explains why you shivered the one time he engulfed you in a hug at his first championship

it also explains why you feel burning jealousy when a celebrity shoves their number into your hands asking you to pass it onto levi. they don’t even look at you like you’re a human being. you’re just a messenger pigeon

they’re worlds away from you. you forever stuck in your tracksuit and them - those beautiful models in skintight dresses and heels to match are stuck in a world where everything they want is handed to them. that includes men

you know it’s not their fault and you’d kill to be like them too but you guess the whole sweaty tracksuits and boxing daily has just become your niche

nonetheless levi is a man. a popular man.

and he sure as hell has no romantic interest in his clumsy, uncoordinated coach

sighing you huddle yourself into a ball choosing not to think about it anymore

but you know you’ve already come to your conclusion

you like levi ackerman more than a coach should

and it’s taken you years to take notice of it

when you became a coach you never really thought people would talk about you much

you were clearly very wrong about that. you and levi are both hot topics on discussion forums and boxing panels. luckily for you levi finds no entertainment in such forms of boxing and so never glances at them

he’s completely unaware of all the online comments. to be honest you’re happy he’s oblivious to it all. he doesn’t deserve to deal with spiteful, mean spirited jabs

you’re less like levi and find yourself aimlessly scrolling through news articles and boxing q&a pages. it’s interesting to see what people have to say on social media

but these days all the searches for your name are filled with “replaced soon?” and “not good enough to coach ackerman?”

the headlines are cruel jokes but again you’re willing to handle taking the brunt of the press’ force instead of levi. yes, even if it hurts you.

“what you reading?” levi peers over your shoulder and you nearly throw your phone away to the other side of the room but instead you choose to grip at it tightly and shove it into your chest

you grin hiding the screen away. “something private.”

levi doesn’t look like he believes you, he wants to ask if you’re okay and if you need anything because frankly you do look slightly distraught but he decides against interrogating you

“oh okay. i’ll be back. you want anything from starbucks?” he asks.

at that moment you wish he asked you if you wanted to talk about what had been bothering you

but you know even if he did ask you’d deny his help

the olympus ring’s official press conference is one in which many rivalries will be established

levi has always had an issue with zeke jaeger one of the top contenders in his division.

it’s a long story......

one which includes the purposeful injury of a mutual friend in order to sabotage his career

you remember it all, the way you had to physically hold levi back from pouncing at the man. it had been one of the most difficult things you had to do

erwin was your friend too and you wanted him to receive justice. part of you wanted to let go and allow for levi to attack zeke with his all but you chose to be levi’s coach before you were erwin’s friends

if he wasn’t going to make good decisions for himself you would do it for him

if you had let him go through with that rash choice he could have risked suspension and suspension could completely halt some careers. suspension almost always led to shorter longevity and motivation

and so that’s why you always shift to levi’s side when he walks past zeke. there’s no way you’re taking a chance. knowing levi he could lose his cool and completely pummel him with an upper cut

so that’s what you’re doing right now. trying to edge levi to the other side of the hall but he does no such thing.

“coach, do you have to be so cautious with zeke?” he finally asks with a bland look on his face

you wince a little when he doesn’t use your name and it looks like he notices the reaction. he makes no commentary on it

“this is my job. let me do it properly.” you explain nudging him to the side so your path doesn’t coincide with zeke’s

levi looks at you poking a tongue in his cheek clearly not amused nor happy

“i’ll do what i want.” and with that said and done he walks on ahead. you take note of the fact that despite saying he’ll do what he wants he does in fact comply with your instructions and walks in the opposite direction and into a nearby convenience store

sighing you rummage through your backpack trying to find your meds

your head has been pounding since you’ve arrived and you hope to fit in at least one nap

looking up to survey the area the street is clear and there is no sight of zeke. you feel at ease at that discovery, not only does he cause you discomfort but he’s a general displeasure to interact with

his tuft of dirty blonde hair irks you to no end and you’re up for no conversation with the man who who ended erwin’s career

he’s the last person you want to ever initiate small talk with.

but fate is a weird thing is it not? because as soon as you’re sure you’ve escaped the clutches of zeke jaeger you hear a chuckle behind you

“well if it isn’t levi’s side piece?”

a hand lands on your shoulder but you shake it away immediately

jaw clenching you try to ignore zeke as best you can but he continues to taunt you

“imagine if levi got an actual coach and not a whore to fuck in the gym?”

turning to face him you see him midway through shrugging his shoulders

believe it or not there had been a time where you and zeke were good friends. a time where he hadn’t let fame get to his head.

so for him to refer to you like that does make your heart sting a little

“cat got your tong-”

and there it is

the long overdue punch

it hits him right in the jaw without warning and you’re tripping trying to stop levi - who might you add has shown up from NOWHERE.

you thought he was shopping?????

“you know if i needed to swing at him i could have?!?” you whisper shout at him completely infuriated that he’s possibly thrown away his chance of competing

“you weren’t going to though.” he says plainly and you can’t deny it.

you don’t have it in you to swing at zeke.

levi doesn’t choose to inflict more pain on his opponent and instead kneels beside him leaning by his ear

you don’t know what he whispers - you’re completely out of ear shot but it’s not even thirty seconds later till levi rises and saunters away seeming content

shooting zeke an apologetic look for the over the top beating you’re surprised to see him look...regretful?

whatever levi said you wonder what it was

it’s been a solid fifteen minutes of you walking behind levi

his back is all you’ve seen so you have no idea about his mood and it’s not that you’re intimidated or anything but peering in just to look at his face is a little odd so you choose to stay a suitable distance away

“y/n.” he says finally when he reaches his hotel room.

fishing through your backpack for his keys you’re surprised when he holds your wrist to stop you

“listen to me.” he sounds calm but slightly on edge

“has zeke always said those things?”

twiddling your thumbs you awkwardly laugh

“well no, we used to be friends. remember how i told you ages ago? he was so cool back then and yeah i miss that zeke :-) but i don’t know what’s up with him.”

you’ve never really told anyone about how you feel about zeke’s hostility so you’re getting KINDA emotional right now thinking about the friend you miss

“i mean to ask, since you started coaching me has he always said that?”

“it was a bit before that but yeah. it’s no big deal at all. people change, zeke changed. i can’t do anything about it.”

moving to find his room keys again you don’t expect for him to hold his grasp

looking up at him there’s a look of simmering anger on his face

“why did you never tell me he said that about you?”

running a hand through your hair you’re only getting anxious having to deal with this in the middle of a hotel hallway

“levi. everyone says that about me. me and you are always together, all sorts of stupid rumours spread.”

“so why do you have to deal with all the malicious comments?? it’s unfa-”

“levi, the world has never been fair.”

handing him his keys he looks between you and them. he’s deciding if he wants to continue with his questioning

ultimately he decides he’s heard enough

a few hours have passed since the incident. neither you or levi have had the courage to come out of your separate rooms to discuss anything

you know you’re going to have to break the quiet and go through his possible press conference questions with him. even if you don’t want to this is your job after all.

so that’s how you end up sitting cross legged on his bed in your pyjamas. levi’s still in the shower so you’ve welcomed your self in. it’s common practice between the two of you to do so

after the one time he walked in on you naked…there’s practically nothing to hide from each other

scribbling a few ideas down onto your notepad you’re curious of what the press have in store for him this time

“yes exactly my thoughts” the sound of levi’s voice is coming from the bathroom, you suppose he’s had to take a business call and think nothing of it

“y/n?” he scoffs and you assume at first he’s calling out for you but then things take a turn for the worst

“sometimes i think about not having y/n coach me that’s all… there’s nothing wrong with that?”

oh.

so your suspicions were correct.

glancing down at the interview questions in your lap you jot down a note at the bottom

hey couldn’t stay for long but try to review the press conference questions on your own if you have the time! :-) much lov good luck, y/n !!!!

and then you retreat.

you don’t know if you make it up but you swear you hear knocking at your door during the night. you aren’t too sure but whatever it is disturbs your sleep.

stretching outside of your room the next morning you’re drowsy and beyond exhausted. you don’t even notice levi come outside.

one of his knuckles is rubbing at his bloodshot eyes. has he not slept well?

“i tried to wake you up but i guess you were asleep?” his statement comes out as a question. you’re not used to levi exhibiting much emotion at all and right now he seems unusually inquisitive.

“i was sleeping.” not even sparing him a second of your time you give him a rehearsed smile and walk off towards the hotel cafe

you can’t find the energy to even look at him

the hall is lined up with barricades to prevent possible assault or injury and you’re behind the stage with levi

the two of you have yet to say another word to each other since this morning. levi’s buttoning his shirt up and you’re looking around for his necktie. the least he can do after yesterday’s confrontation with zeke is to look presentable

“tie?” he asks over his shoulder

throwing it at him you hear a grunt of annoyance. he must have disliked that.

“can you help me with my cuff links?”

breathing out of your nose you feel anxious. you’ll have to get really close to him to do that.

but again you have to.

you take them from his hands and stand in front of him. you don’t really know how to go about this, what way is there for you to appropriately position yourself?

he’s sat on a backstage bench and checks the time on his phone “we’ve only got a few minutes left.” he’s clearly requesting that you hurry this up but you can’t seem to do it you’re completely frozen in place

“y/n, what’s wrong?” he asks

“nothing.”

he doesn’t have to know you know

“something’s wrong.”

“we’re in a hurry it doesn’t matter.” yanking him by his right sleeve you slot one of the cuff links through the slits in his shirt.

levi silently observes you fiddling with his sleeves, you can feel his stare burn into you. even as you’re moving onto the opposite side you can see from the corner of your eye that he hasn’t stopped staring

“was it something i said to you?” he asks again

a silence drags between the both of you and you debate on whether or not you’d like to enlighten levi with the information you obtained yesterday night

“more like something you didn’t say.” you finally respond.

thrusting his arm back at him his hand lands onto his lap and he opens his mouth to respond only to be cut off by an announcer

“THIS YEARS OLYMPUS RING CONTESTANTS MAY ENTER.”

crowds can be heard cheering outside but levi still hasn’t ripped his eyes off of you

“go on, maybe you’ll find a new coach after the press conference.” your bitter smile tells him all he has to know and his face visibly drops realizing what has happened

“i–”

“mr ackerman to the stage. i repeat mr ackerman to the stage!!”

he’s torn between staying behind and explaining himself or leaving to head towards one of the most important press conferences of his life

his teeth tug at his bottom lip as he looks between you and the entrance to the stage

“go levi.”

and he does.

levi’s sat on one of many chairs on the panel, he gulps taking a sip of water to calm his nerves. he’s not even nervous about the press conference, that can wait. he doesn’t know how much you’ve heard and how much you’ve misinterpreted what he’s said

he finds it weird at first that he’s even worried because you and him have a professional relationship

but then he has to stop himself from smacking the back of his own head. he knows that much isn’t true, hell if it was a strictly professional relationship he wouldn’t be walking around shirtless to get your attention

he wouldn’t lace his fingers with yours when he was nervous either

he wouldn’t let you tend to his injuries and scold him if this was about being professional, he doesn’t tolerate being scolded by anyone but if it’s you he’ll take it

when it’s you scolding him for fucking up one of his fists it feels okay, it feels right. he feels warm inside knowing that you have to care for him if you get that angry

he sighs feeling exasperated waiting for the last person to join the panel and get this question and answers segment over and done with

zeke makes his obnoxiously late appearance but levi doesn’t have it in him to roll his eyes. evidently he’s still stuck on you and thinking about apologizing as soon as this is finished

zeke sits right next to levi and some members of the crowd whisper amongst themselves

“have they made up?”

“think there’s gonna be another brawl??”

“i hope not they’re both my favourites…”

one of the reporters right in front of the stage but behind the barricades is the first to speak

“as we all know there has been an unmistakable sense of tension between two of the most promising contenders this year. mr ackerman and mr yaeger. would you like to put the rumours at rest?”

the question makes levi clench his jaw, zeke rolls his hands into two fists feeling just as frustrated. this is boxing not a reality tv show who cares what the terms of their long broken friendship are?

zeke nudges levi’s knee with his and levi returns the movement.

for now they’ll call a truce. it seems that both he and zeke have more pressing matters to attend to

“me and levi are bros. i’m frankly upset such a rumour started in the first place!” the crowd is mumbling again and the reporter himself is stunned by the unexpected response

“i admit that a fight which some may have saw yesterday was my fault. i had made some inappropriate comments towards his coach to get at him. it was a malicious move on my part and i hope people don’t think him and i are mortal enemies because of this bump in the road.”

zeke is so well spoken when he wants to be that levi feels self conscious sitting there having said nothing.

“mr ackerman? would you like to comment or?”

levi’s eyes light up, this is an opportunity to have you hear him. he doesn’t have to wait to explain when he can throw hints right now. you may be giving him the silent treatment but you wouldn’t miss this press conference for the world

sitting up in his chair and clearing his throat levi looks directly into one of the cameras pointed at him. he’s sure you’ll be able to see him from backstage.

“me and zeke have no other disputes apart from that i assure you. i simply value my coach greatly and so i acted rashly yesterday.”

the reporter nods along feeling pleased with the answer.

a few more questions are thrown around to the other contestants, levi sits there bored out of his mind until at the last minute before everything is just about to wrap up he’s asked a question once again

“regarding your coach, have you thought of a replacement if you win the championship?”

levi presses his lips together not understanding the question

“why would i replace my current coach?” where on earth has this question even come from??

“rumours have been flying around regarding lack of experience and the fact you’re outgrowing each other now. it’s all over boxing discussion forums.”

your hands are embarrassingly shoved into your pockets as people pass behind you backstage offering you pitiful looks. maybe wearing your bright pink team ackerman tracksuit wasn’t the best choice because everyone can hear what’s going on up front

levi’s memory flashes back to the number of times you hid your phone behind your back and awkwardly chuckled saying nothing was bothering you. he understands what you were hiding now

his mouth twists into a scowl, he knows you’re a few meters away listening to all of this and hearing it coming out of a stranger’s mouth is probably upsetting you

“i plan to stick with my coach till the day i die.”

you sit up not believing what you heard, it entirely contradicts what you heard last night

some journalists are jotting down notes, members of the audience are leaning forward listening intently

“well, why is that?” the reporter presses on

levi twirls a pen around in his hands staring off into the crowd.

“i don’t think anyone else could tolerate me.

you bite back a laugh because you know that’s true :-)

“they’re a person who saw potential in me when no one else did.”

he chuckles to himself. “your stamina it’s great!” his witty imitation of you is rather accurate

“that was the first thing coach ever said to me.” he pauses allowing himself to reminisce.

“but i did want to drop my coach the other day.” he admits.

hearing him confess to it should make you mad, you should be pissed off right now but you can’t manage to feel that way at all

“i said it because i wanted them to relax. i never really understood the magnitude of the criticism they were receiving until recently.”

levi’s staring directly at the camera and his eyes pierce into yours, it’s as if he’s actually looking right at you

“i’d be lost without them, so i want to say to the one person rooting for me backstage, thank you for everything you do for me :-)”

you’re covering your face with your hands feeling the blush creep up your cheeks now. GOD what is he doing??? you may as well be the same colour as your tracksuit, you’ve never heard him be this sentimental in his entire life

“so no, i won’t be replacing my coach any time soon. if anything i should worry about my coach replacing me.”

levi ackerman...

he’s a HUGE idiot if he thinks you’ve ever thought of seriously replacing him

levi presses his arms against your sides when you’re both alone and in the solitude of his hotel room.

“i’m sorry for thinking you wanted to fire me.“ you mumble it into his chest feeling much too embarrassed to look up at him and say it

“also i may as well say this now but i have a fat, massive, huge crush on you “

after that you awkwardly laugh to yourself. you both kinda stare at each other and you’re meant to regret telling him how you feel right now but you don’t. having that weight lifted off your shoulders feels amazing.

"you don’t have to like me back or anything and i know you don’t like me back obviously you probably like that one actress- what was her name?? the one with the long black hair she gave you her number at a fundraiser dinner. you’d both look cute together, have i said that??”

levi gives you a blank look

“i threw her number away.”

you’re open mouthed feeling completely shocked, she’s gorgeous??

“HUH?? HELLO WHY? LEVI ACKERMAN, HAVE YOU EVEN SEEN HER??”

“i have but is she you?”

the all too familiar words from years ago ring in your ears

nostalgia hits the both of you in waves and levi takes you in for another hug. your heart hammers in your chest and with your face pressed against him once again you can feel the irregular beat of his heart too.

that is when you and levi formally meet for the second time. this time you are but an experienced coach and he, an experienced boxer.

:-)

286 notes · View notes

jimines · 3 years ago

Note

Whats actually happened between you and taemaknae? I read about it on the tea blog and still confused

This is an insanely long story so I'm going to put it below the cut so for anyone interested in this absolute shit show, continue on.

Essentially, I posted these headers about a month ago:

It was a set of like 8 colours and it was the first time I had ever posted any headers or anything. The issue nic had with these, was the ripped paper bottom. Because apparently you can trademark that. I had asked a (now ex) “friend” of mine if she knew where I could find the ripped paper effect because I had seen the effect on the header of her network blog and I had been trying to find a similar thing for months and google images never gave me anything good. She ended up referring me to google images anyways and after like an hour of dedicated searching, I found this ripped paper effect and used it. This ex “friend” went on to tell another friend of mine that I had "asked where nicole gets her resources for her headers" and then screenshotted my dm as "proof", which still confuses me because I never mentioned nicole there lmao. I've seen the screenshot.

Tell me where I said nicole. It was literally just a question born from seeing the header they had on their network lmao. I feel it’s important to mention I didn’t know this person ran said network at that time, which is why i said “these people”.

This other friend then came to me and just said my headers "may be seen as similar to nic's” and said she noticed it on her own and never mentioned my other “friend” approaching her. I was confused because other than that ripped paper effect that I know many people on tumblr use, I saw no similarities. Nic's headers are usually more complex and more than just a coloured background with a little effect in it. I just wanted to make some simple headers for fun because I was bored. But, regardless, I messaged nic about it to make sure she didn't feel the same way. I told her a friend of mine was worried nic might think my headers are similar to her's and I assured her that if she found them similar I would take them down, no questions asked. Nic told me she was surprised this friend brought it up and told me that it was entirely up to me if I found the headers similar. She never once told me she felt they were the same, never mentioned anything about them, she insisted it was up to me to do as I pleased. So, since I genuinely found no similarities, I left them up.

About a week went by and things between nic and I were fine, or so I thought, based off the fact that she was interacting with my posts, sending me cute asks and replying to a lot of my comments and stuff being kind and whatnot. Then, I decided to post a small list of my creations and the series I had running at the time.

After that, all of a sudden I got an influx of rude hate anons:

To anyone I mentioned the anons to, they agreed with me, you cannot trademark circular icons. This anon also accused me saying “just the fact that you had an anxiety attack about it proves you copied them” Like no sweetie, it’s called three strangers walked into my house and I got anxious.

Despite me not seeing the issue, I messaged nic, assuming she wouldn't care about the icons (it wasn't like I was taking her exact work and copying and pasting them as my own) and that made her very upset. When she responded to me, she was incredibly heated and gave off the vibe she was waiting for me to message her about it.

She said things like "this has actually been bothering me for a while", "i expected you to be able to read between the lines and delete the headers", "i don't know who that anon was but clearly they recognize my style". For starters, she never told me that she was annoyed with me, she was being very kind to me publicly. And I have no idea how I was meant to “read between the lines” of what she said especially considering how kind she was to me the following days. I also never accused her of knowing this anon, she just insisted it wasn't her and she didn't know them right off the bat. She also insinuated that I copied my gifs from others as well, which ticked me off because I made my 100+ layer psd myself thank you very much. But I kept my cool, and I told her I had no idea she felt the way she did, and I told her I would delete the headers (which i did as the conversation was going on), and that I would stop posting my icons and bringing attention to them because no one ever paid it any mind before that point. And I asked her “please tell me straight up the next time you have an issue with me because I am generally pretty dumb with social cues”, I have my adhd to thank for that. And instead of replying, she just blocked me. And conveniently, the hate anons stopped dead right after we blocked each other and I haven't received any since.

Also, these are the kinds of icons I posted:

Looks pretty generic and idk, universal, right?

Then, as I've recently found out today, she was in an "anti-loverjimin" groupchat with at least 2 other bloggers.

Which explains why this all went and fell into place. I know who the two other bloggers are because of what happened two days later but I won't name them just yet, but these two people had been "friends" with me for several months. So, a day or two after nic blocked me, all of a sudden some good friends of mine were blocking me and not talking to me when I asked what was going on. I found out soon after it was because nicole and those two now ex “friends” of mine had taken old dms I sent them and were showing them to people. And I will go into detail about them but I won't name the people they are about for privacy reasons.

Before I move on, to clarify some lies nic has been spreading about me, I never once shit talked nicole to my friends. One of these ex friends also said I was trying to get people on my side. I would have reacted to this all very very differently if that were the case. I would be dragging everyone through the fucking dirt but I don't get off on drama or micromanaging what my mutuals do. My issues are with these people, if you're still friends with them that's your decision i could not care less. So, back to it, the only thing I said about nic was that she and I had a stupid small fight over icons and that she was spreading lies about me, based off of what nic said to jordan.

That exact message, or slight variations of it, was sent to anyone I interacted with because I didn't know if nic was going to stop at jordan or try and get to everyone I fucking knew lmao. Some of the people I messaged this to told ME nic had done this kind of thing before, that she has sent hate anons, launched hate campaigns, cancelled people, etc. Over stupid shit like icons lmao.

Here are some responses I received after I mentioned nicole:

And nic or one of her friends also took it upon themselves to send anons to that tea blog to blow shit up and named everyone and made it an even bigger mess when they saw no one was actively trying to fight me after the dms got out.

I also love that in this following ask, they named my two “friends” that were behind the whole dm drama and backstabbed me, as well as two other people I never badmouthed, that story was twisted. But we’ll get into those details shortly.

And she also told people I clout chased big blogs and only cared about notes. At one point, yes, I did care a lot about my statistics. However, never once did I think clout chasing was worth my fucking time or energy, Nic is the biggest clout chaser on this damn site and there are receipts of that, ask jordan lmao. And I couldn’t give two shits about my statistics anymore lmao, much less anxiety that way. Do I still crave validation sometimes? Sure. But it's not a driving force of my tumblr experience like it used to be.

But, moving on to the dms, the first one was sent when I first came back to tumblr full-time and didn't understand why people self reblogged things, I found the pretence of self reblogging annoying and greedy and I complained about it and it was a comment fuelled by two bloggers that i would see sr a lot on my dash. But I never thought THEY were annoying, as these people are saying I did, it was self reblogging I found annoying and as you can see I have come to understand why people sr and I do it myself too. I didn't even know these two bloggers at this time either. That dm was cropped to hide the fact that this "friend" agreed with me and hid the date as well so it seemed recent, and was sent to one of the bloggers I mentioned as an example, someone I had since become good friends with.

I didn’t befriend one of the people I mentioned there until mid to late June. That friendship is now over thanks to this drama and all the lies. The second friend of mine they went after was never spoken about in dms, they went and turned her against me through lies and manipulation so that friendship has ended too. And while those two were doing that, nic went off to try and turn jordan against me.

There was a particular user on here that I did say some nasty things about but we weren't friends, as many people have been made to believe. I was particularly mad at this person in those dms and was hurtful, I admit, and I have since apologized and owned up to all of it to these people. I did call them fake and/or two-faced.

And what in the gassing me up bullshit was their response though lmao. I also sent this following dm before I even talked about the issue with this person. They urged me to continue and to name drop the person, and I stupidly thought they were trustworthy.

My reasoning for what I said wasn't unwarranted though, I don't make a habit of going around shit-talking people, unless they do something to me first. I vent when I am upset and this person had sent me a passive aggressive ask and then denied sending it when I asked and I thought that was just very fake, especially since she was so kind to me in dms before the ask came in. But all of these dms were cropped too to hide timestamps and responses, and in most cases, like those screenshots prove, these "friends" either gassed me up or egged me on to continue ranting or to name the people i was mad at and they had agreed with me on several, several occasions. Turns out they were trying to get dirt on me to use in their cancel campaign. But the point is, nic has made me out to be this horrible person that befriends "big blogs" (an overrated statement) and then shit talks them behind their back without remorse. Yet it was one person I said rude things about and I, again, owned up to it all and apologized to them the first day. I would've done it sooner had I a) remembered feeling the way I did all those months ago or remembered the dms themselves or b) felt that way still after meeting them. But neither is the case.

I find it really amusing though that these people wanted things to be kept quiet and didn’t want anyone they spoke to to talk to me about it because I was going to “out them on my blog” and “make a big scene”, then they three went and made it a big fucking scene and ruined my friendships. I’m familiar with this pattern of manipulation as it has happened to me in real life before and it’s the most childish bullshit to witness.

Before this callout day for nic, I had never once been directly rude to or about her, same goes for those ex “friends” that betrayed my trust and friendship. The fact that they plotted against me in a group chat while still actively talking to me and being all buddy buddy is just disgusting. Both of them were talking to me that day at the same time they were sharing the dms and shit-talking me to my friends. But yeah, that's my side, the untwisted side, of the whole story. I tried to be mature and talk to nic and when I didn't do what she wanted me to do, she blocked me and launched the hate campaign with dms and the power of photoshop. I’ve been hesitant to make any of this public because it was meant to be a silent ordeal but I’ve grown tired of her constantly publicizing everything without consequence while I remain silent like I promised.

#anon #replied💌#tw:negativity #drama #long post #read at your own risk aha #its a shit show #idc if you rb it #pinning temporarily for the next day(sih)#ish*#edited with screenshots and whatnot that i forgot i had on my phone lmao

64 notes · View notes

starlightshadowsworld · 3 years ago

Text

Son of none

Based off this post: Aka Percy Weasley was abandoned by his family and I don’t think they realised just how much danger an 18 civilian blood traitor son would be when stuck behind enemy lines. Well never fear, a fic is here as if I don’t have any other drafts...any whoooo

@transparentfreakpursepanda

Warning for blood, torture, self loathing. Mentions of bullying and neglect. Cursing.

(Also while writing this I was listening to Polaris by Natewantstobattle and...yeah if you want more angst while reading this listen to them and think of Percy :) )

Percy deserved this.

Knowing that didn't change things. It didn’t make it easier to make it duck past the office that had once belonged to Barty Crouch Sr without feeling dread and greif. As harsh as the man could be and that he had not bothered to learn Percy's name... Percy still mourned his loss. For all that he was, Barty Crouch Sr had been a good man.

Life at the ministry taught him quickly, that kind of wizard was few and far between.

He wondered if the look Barty Crouch Sr had shared with his son before his death wax the same his father had shared with him the day he left.

Maybe it wasn't wise to compare yourself to a deranged murderer, but if that's the kind of wizard his family thought he was...

"Weasley"

It was stern, drenched in spite that was not unlike his old potions professor. But sadly even Snapes treatment of him in class did not hold a candle to what was happening now.

Percy lifted his head, it felt heavy. Infact all of him felt that he was on fire. The figure infront of him came into focus, not that Perch could quite recall his name. Edward? No that didn't seem right. Not Edward was his wand in hand and looked very annoyed, his dark mark was on full display.

Percy became very well aware in that moment that he couldn't move. He was bound to a chair in a room that looked very much like a cellar. He was still in his ministry robes, though they were dirty and tattered and stained in something.

It took Percy longer than he should've to realise it was his own blood. Not that he knew where he was bleeding from. "You Gryffindors and your bloody stubbornness" sneered Not Edward, he was a broad man, towering over Percy.

"You're wasting my time, and yours of you don't hurry up and tell me where your family is hiding." Percy shook his head, defiantly even if his body protested at the sudden movement. "Like I said before, even if I did know, I would never tell you."

And than Not Edward would shout profanities all the while using his subordinates to use Percy as target practice till he passed out. That had been the cycle for... Well he wasn't sure for how long. Apart from the first time when Percy had weaved a convincing story about the family heading to Romania to hide away with Charlie...a whole false hunt that ended with the brand he now had on his arm.

But this time was different.

Not Edward smirked "thought you'd say that, no matter. We've found out how to get there attention, and they'll hand themselves over." Percy laughed, it was a strangled and it sent another wave of pain through his body.

Not Edward was still smirking, in fact if anything his confidence grew. "And better yet, you're going to the bait that brings them here." And that stopped Percy laughing at once, he was quieter. "What makes you think they'd come" the words were barely above a whisper that echoed throughout the room.

Not Edward (Percy really needed to learn this man's name for his own internal monologue's sake) rolled his eyes "don't pull that on me, you Weasely's are more attached than a bunch of grapes. Rest assured, they'll be coming one way or another."

With that he left. Percy tried not to think about the fact a death eater had more confidence in his families arrival than he did. His mind wandered to the day he left, guilt pooled in his stomach. No amount of head trauma would erase the disgust and rage in Arthur’s eyes, Percy knew at that moment he had lost all right to call the man father.

He could never look him in the eye again, he couldn’t even look himself in the mirror without seeing him staring back. His mothers eyes haunted him, she’d been the only one to try to reach out but he had slammed that back in her face. Not that Percy should have been surprised, he’d always been a parasite.

If anything they must’ve been relived to be rid of him.

They wouldn’t come, he knew that. Than why did his heart race, did tears threaten to fall and his stomach churn at the thought? Percy thought of his siblings, young and old...they wouldn’t have given him a second thought. Fred and George would mourn the loss of their favourite target, but they would move on they all would if they hadn’t already.

For Percy though, this was the end of the line.

_______________________________________________________________

Weasley family dinners were always something else, Bill knew this better than most. He smiled to Fleur who sat at his side, amusement on her face as they both watched Molly do as she does best. It was organised chaos at its finest, and while Shell cottage was a far cry from the Burrow, somehow it all came together. Harry was laughing at a story Ginny and the twins were telling, Charlie and Hermione were actually helping Molly along with Arthur.

But even with how familiar it was, it was missing a certain brother rolling his eyes at the story and telling the true ending to the annoyance of the twins. Who would than direct the others to helping out with dinner to there mothers amusement.

Percy.

Ever since the watch, a muggle watch at that had arrived on his wedding day, with no name for the sender but only Bill’s name signed by an all too familiar handwriting...Bill hadn’t been able to take his mind of his little brother. His absence at his wedding and just seeing him around the house stuck out like a sore thumb to Bill. He wasn’t the only one either, he could see how his Mum would pause her eyes searching before looking down and moving onto something else.

Much like now when she put down the plates and realised that she’d left a little extra to the side. “Mum, I get that you miss him but you can’t keep doing this. Percy’s not coming back” the first to say it was Charlie, his voice soft like he was talking to an irate dragon. “Good riddance” that came from Ginny, in that whisper that wasn’t even trying to be quiet.

Instantly Molly became much like a dragon. “Ginevera Molly Weasley, don’t you dare speak about your brother like that!” She yelled, hot tears burning in her eyes. “Molly...” Interjected Arthur, putting a calming hand on his wife’s shoulder “you can’t blame her for her anger. Come on, let’s dig in.” And that should have been the end of it but Molly turned to him, her own temper boiling.

“Don’t you start, Arthur. Don’t you tell me I should be sat eating dinner while my son is out all alone.” She spat. “Mum, it’s fine Percy’s probably having high tea with the new minister, talking about the importance of cauldron bottoms” snickered Fred, “pfft yeah, just sat around telling the dark lord about his book report” agreed George. Bill frowned, as did Fleur but that was nothing compared to Molly.

Her gaze hardened and the twins shut up instantly, they’d never seen her this mad. “I dont care if you hate him, I don’t care if this isn’t my home...you speak of my son following HIM, get out of my sight now.” She said, slumping into a nearby chair. Bill stood up, putting his own hand in his mums which she took gratefully. “Percy may be the most ambitious lion around, but he wouldn’t join you know who. He left to join the ministry because that's what he believed in, death eaters isn’t even in the equation.”

And Bill meant those words. More than he ever thought he would.

“Though is there any difference between the death eaters and the ministry anymore?” Asked Harry, the place was filled with them after all. “Yeah? Might be but they’ve kept the employees, not that I know what’s going on in there anymore.” Said Arthur, adding his 2 galleon’s into the mix. “And there not going to take kindly to a Weasley” Said Hermione, making everyone look down as if they hadn’t just realised that.

It didn’t matter if Percy had disowned himself, his family was very much publicly fighting the people he was now stuck with.

And that was when fate decided to be extra cruel and the radio burst into life.

“Greetings from the Ministry. Our daily transmission has already been received today but we have an exceptional treat for the wizarding public. We will be instead hosting an interview with one of our newest employees, give a hand folks to Percival Ignatius Weasley.”

Everyone in the room froze, and yet Ron who was the only one of the family minus Fleur not to speak, ran to the radio and put the volume as loud as he could.

“Say hello your family, Percival.” Taunted the voice, it was very gleeful as it spoke. No response was heard. “Oh, silly me I forgot how many hours you young people work, not to worry let’s get him up boys.”

A splash was heard and a shuddering scream. “Morning Percival, sorry do you prefer Percy? Don’t care, lets start the interview. So Percival, how are you finding the ministry?” Everyone sat with baited breathe.

And yet it was there Percy who, through shuddered breaths managed to whisper a “fuck you...fuck you and your ministry”

“Well that is very rude, and here I thought your mother would have taught you manners” “don’t...don’t you talk about her.” Said Percy, Molly broke down into tears and Bill held her close. Unable to tear his gaze from the radio, no one could.

“What do you want to say them? I’m sure they’ve missed you. In fact, just for you we’ll be hosting a party. And there all invited to the ministry, so long as they bring a certain Mr Potter.”

There was a silence before “don’t come...don’t. Whatever you do, don’t... it’s fine. I’m fine, I love it here.” He laughed, everyone cringed at the sound he made, as if he was choking. “It’s fine, don’t come...parties are overrated yeah.” The transmission started cutting off, Ron frantically along with the twins tried to get it working.

They heard “too busy. Don’t come, Harry don’t...stay where you are!” Before the transmission cut off.

No one could speak, horror was etched into all of there faces. The twins were scrabbling over themselves with wand in hand to track where the transmission had come from.

The Ministry.

“We’re going...now” said Molly, standing up. Her tears were gone, grabbing for her wand and coat. “Molly...be rationale, we need to plan this.” Said Arthur, Molly spun on her heel and glared. “I am not going to sit here while those...monsters torture MY son! Planning will take to long, did you hear him Arthur?! Did you hear your son crying out in pain...he doesn’t have long left...” Arthur looked down, unable to respond.

Molly looked at the rest of the family, her gaze saying it all: You can come with me or you can stay. The first to stand was Bill, closely followed by Fleur who met his thankful gaze with a determined smile. Charlie and Ron were next, grabbing there wands with Harry and Hermione following. Ginny and the twins exchanged guilty looks but stood. Arthur couldn’t look at any of them, he simply picked up his wand.

“Harry, I understand if you wish to stay” said Molly, he shook his head. “I might not know him well but Percy’s family 2...I cant sit here while you guys go even with the danger.” He replied, and somehow that was all it was, Percy was family...enough said.

And so the family of lions got up and left, to find the one they left behind.

_______________________________________________________

Percy was terrified.

A part of him argued that he should be grateful they came at all for him. Maybe it was out of pity, out of ensuring that he wasn't able to be used against them.

Yes, that's all it was. He was nothing afterall, he was merely a civilian in a war.

And yet hearing Molly tearfully and frantically whisper his name. Hearing Hermione yell the counterspell to his imprisonment to Ron who did so perfectly. Seeing the light of spells cast by Ginny and the twins to stun Not Edward... (Who was apparently called Edgar... Eh close enough.)

Feeling Charlie carry him in his arms, mumbling curse words. Smelling Arthur's cologne.

It all felt right. It was warmth that he couldn't remember experiencing. It was enough to lull him to a facade that everything was fine.

But when his wounds were healed and he saw them all looking at him... Percy knew he had to shelf that dream. "I told you not to come" was the first thing he said, averting his gaze. (Couldn't look them in the eye)

"And you must've lost a few screws if you thought we wouldn't" said Bill, meeting Percy's gaze. "You shouldn't have" is all he replied. "And what, let you be killed by the ministry?" Gaped Ginny. Percy shrugged "wouldn't have made much difference, you've only gone and put yourselves in more danger."

"Are you... Are you fucking with us right now?" Asked Fred, incredously. "No, im too busy ranting about cauldron bottoms to do that." And if Fred paused, Percy didn't see it.

Seeing as no one was getting anyway, Bill sat beside Percy who immediately felt on edge. "Thanks for the watch" he said simply. Everyone blinked in confusion and than realisation as no one has known where Bill's new watch had come from. Percy smiled faintly "You're welcome, reminded me of you."

"Although, I do wish you could've gave it in person" continued Bill, testing the waters. Percy surprised him by shaking his head "no you wouldn't have. It was your day, I wasn't going to ruin it." Bill frowned "is that what you think?" Percy shrugged again "it's what I've been told."

"You are way to chill after being tortured" said Charlie, Percy looked at his bandaged arms and snorted. "Eh? It's nothing new. That guy was just there for the theatrics, sadist if you ask me." Charlie raised an eyebrow "nothing new?" Percy nodded "yeah, what you think the ministry that's so far up Voldermorts ass would allow me to work there without some 'interviews'."

Everyone paled.

"But than why stay there?" Asked Arthur, Percy froze. Steeling himself, switching from calm to panic to calm in an instant but they all saw. "I've got business there, things I need to get done and ensure are done. Speaking of which, thanks for the rescue but I should be off."

He didn't belong here. Not anymore.

"Percy, you can stay." Said Molly, already standing up to get his room prepared. "No, I can't. I have work, I have a duty... And I'm no longer part of this family." When he said that, Percy felt like the wind was knocked out of him but stood his ground. "Percy... That's not true.."

Percy met Arthur's gaze, his father's eyes. "Really? Than pray tell why did no one tell me you were all in hiding... Or a warning? And don't say it was impossible because I managed to send a parcel to a location I didn't even know about nor knew existed."

No one could answer that.

"I'll be off, and don't worry I won't tell them anything. Just do what you do best, and leave me alone." Arthur managed to grab Percy's wrist though he hissed in pain and pulled his arm back like he'd been burnt. "Don't.. Touch me, Arthur Weasely."

Arthur recoiled, Percy looked away. "I spent my whole life wanting to be someone you could be proud off...I listened to all the critism and yes I was a prat. But the moment I made my own choice you already made me aware I didn't belong in my own house. I’m sorry...that I’m not athletic like Ginny, I’m not smart like Ron or as successful as Bill and Charlie, I’m not a hero like a Ron or fun like Fred and George. That I’m just plain ol prat Percy.”

He began to walk away. Just like he did before.

"That choice was against following Dumbledor, turning against the light." Said Molly, wanting him to understand. Percy laughed, with no humour at all but glaring hard. Rage emanated from him.

"I'm sorry if I choose not to stand behind an old coot who routinely sends an abused boy to his abusers, who nearly got 3 11 yearolds killed because he wanted to weed out a possibility. Who nearly got thousands of children killed and did nothing to save Ginny with the chamber. The man who wouldn't give an innocent man a trial and got him sent to the worst prison for 12 years... Who put teenagers in a death game and let an underage kid join because why not. That man is a monster and I refuse to follow someone like that. But no that means I'm blindly following authority." He sneered, staring at them all.

"And the ministry? Because as corrupt and fucked up as it is I know I can do something. That changes can be made in the systems to benefit everyone, Dumbledor is someone who breeds child solider’s and let's a known abuser teach at his school and somehow I’m the only one who isn't okay with that."

And with that Percy left, no one knew what to say. They simply sat in silence, absorbing everything they just heard. Ginny thought about how Percy had profusely apologised after she was free from the chamber, how he’d made time for her since than. Ron thought of all the times they’d have an adventure and Percy would watch over them like a mother hen.

Bill and Charlie recalled when Percy would still come to them for help before he started Hogwarts. When they found him bruised and broken from bullies except this was because of them. “He really thinks that doesn’t he...?” Said Fred, George nodded. Neither could smile, guilt pooled in their hearts that they didn’t think he felt like that.

Molly sobbed for her son who was once again lost and Arthur wondered where he had gone wrong to lose his son all over again.

________________________________________________

Meanwhile Percy entered a muggle flat in London. Alone again just like he belonged, laying on his bed and looking at the brand on his arm.

'Son of none'

And if that didn't hurt most of all.

Suffice to say they all things to think about for when they’d meet again.

#percy weasley #Percy Weasely deserved better #angst #self loathing #depression #Percy Weasely needs a hug #blood #Torture #swearing #Sorry if it's rushed

59 notes · View notes

bpro-cardstories · 3 years ago

Text

Yuta Ashu SR ーRequestー

2019 ー Special Moment [特別な瞬間]

“But I think carrying a camera with you has no harm because you don’t know when a special moment occurs.”

『 Event: SUMMER LIVE on the beach (1st July - 10th July 2019) 』

Part 1

Yuta: ‘Gochin, Kenken! I’ll release the shutter button, so listen properly, okay?’

ーShutter button noise.ー

Yuta: ‘How was it!? Doesn’t it make a super professional tone? Look, look.’

Goshi: ‘Oi, Ashu. Until when are you going to do that? It’s already the third day in a row.’

Kento: ‘I think it’s a freebie from a quiz program? Shall I return it?’

Yuta: ‘No way! I worked so hard for the buzz-to-answer quiz!!’

Goshi: ‘Then take care of it in the closet.’

Yuta: ‘Geez~! Why do you say such a mean thing, Gochin.’

Goshi: ‘That’s because the camera is all you are talking about, whether you’re sleeping or are awake.’

Yuta: ‘I mean, you know, this little one isn’t an ordinary camera?’

Yuta: ‘It’s hard to get your hands on a professional waterproof single-lens reflex (SLR) camera after all!’

Kento: ‘Well, it’s not a camera that an amateur can handle casually, is it? So, can you master it, Yuta?’

Yuta: ‘Of course, perfectly~.... It's not how it is, but I feel like by playing around with it I get a hang of it.’

Yuta: ‘Here, look! The neighbourhood’s cat! It was taken by a beautiful woman, right?’

Kento: ‘Hee. Well, it seems that it can be taken as it is.’

Kento: ‘...... Eh, what’s this? These are all cats?’

Yuta (blushing): ‘Yeah, when I followed this cat a lot of its friends came, so I took a photo of them together. Each one of them is so cute~.’

Yuta: ‘This time I want to try taking pictures of people, not just cats. And try the waterproof function! You can take a photo shoot anywhere in the sea or in the pool. Because when Gochin or Kenken are swimming all coolly the camera will capture you perfectly, leave it to me as your cameraman!’

Goshi: ‘Leave it to me, you say….. There’s no such opportunity to go to the sea.’

Yuta: ‘Then creating one should be fine! When was our next holiday again!?’

Goshi: ‘Hmpf…. I won’t go. Go alone if you want to go.’

Yuta: ‘Eeh, there’s no meaning to it then!’

Goshi: ‘Who knows. Anyways, I’m thirsty. Ashu, give me the coke.’

Yuta (upset): ‘Geez…. Here you are.’

Goshi (smiles): ‘Thanks.’

Goshi: ‘.....Hm?’

ーFizzling noise.ー

Goshi: ‘Uwaah!? Shit, why’s the coke bursting out!?’

Yuta: ‘All right, here’s my chance!’

Goshi: ‘Oi, now’s not the time for taking pictures!’

Yuta: ‘Gochin, you’re making a good face~! Look, we can shoot such incidents perfectly as well. It’s good to have a camera, right?’

Kento: ‘Goshi covered in coke….. Haha….. No, not good, he might get mad about it…..’

Goshi: ‘You too, don’t laugh!’

Goshi: ‘And you, Ashu!! You set up this coke, didn’t you?’

Yuta (shocked): ‘W-What do you mean…..? I know nothing?’

Goshi: ‘Don’t play dumb, it’s obvious.’

Yuta: ‘Waah, Gochin’s mad! Let’s escape~!’

Goshi: ‘Ashu! Don’t run away!’

Yuta: ‘Hiiee~!!’

Yuta: ‘Oh, right! I had an appointment with Ryu-chan! I’m going now!’

Goshi: ‘Shit….’

Kento: ‘Hehe…..’

Goshi: ‘And until when do you want to laugh? Geez, Ashu, that guy…..’

Part 2

ーKTKR’s apartment.ー

Yuta: ‘That was really close! Only a bit more and I would have been caught by Gochin.’

Ryuji (sighs): ‘And that’s why you suddenly came to our place. But it’s given that Goshi is angry when he’s covered in coke.’

Yuta (smiles): ‘I didn’t think it would splash so beautifully on him.’

Yuta: ‘Gochin has the talent to get caught in mischief.’

Tsubasa: ‘I don’t know if you can say that it’s a talent, but…..’

Ryuji (smiles): ‘Well, if you ask me, you do see it a lot that he’s caught up in Yuta’s pranks.’

Yuta: ‘Right? I wonder if Gochin’s still mad ~.’

Yuta: ‘Hey, hey, do you think he’ll forgive me if I apologize and invite him to go to the sea?’

Ryuji: ‘Why the sea though.’

Yuta: ‘I mean anyone wants to go to the sea in Summer, right? Gochin must be wanting to go as well!’

Ryuji: ‘I don’t really think so……’

Yuta: ‘Eh….. Then, the river?’

Ryuji: ‘The place isn’t the problem. You don’t have the time for it in the first place, do you?’

Yuta: ‘Hmm….. That’s true, we actually don’t.’

Yuta (sigh): ‘Mmh, even though I got such a good camera I can’t make the most of its use, that’s such a waste.

Yuta: ‘Oh yeah, Tsubasa-chan, do we have work scheduled to go to a sea or a river in the future?’

Tsubasa: ‘I am sorry, at the moment….’

Yuta (sad): ‘I see…. It’s a waterproof camera after all. I wanted to take a photo that looks like “waves, splashes of water and Summer!”.’

Tsubasa: ‘I understand…..’

Tsubasa: ‘But I think carrying a camera with you has no harm because you don’t know when a special moment occurs.’

Yuta (smiles): ‘A special moment huh…..’

Yuta: ‘Yeah, it’s just as Tsubasa-chan says! I’ll carry the camera around so that I can take a photo at any time!’

Ryuji: ‘Which meansーー’

Yuta (excited): ‘Ah, right! It was the first time Ryu-chan and the others have seen this camera, wasn’t it? This one here is really amazing! It also has a long-running time and is fine even 15m into the water. The camera shoots beautifully in dark places too and its consecutive shooting consists of 15 shots per secondーー’

Ryuji: ‘Stop!’

Yuta (shocked): ‘Eh?’

Ryuji: ‘Listen, Yuta. Why do you think Tsubasa is here at our place?’

Yuta: ‘Why….. Ah! Sorry, sorry! Now that I think about it, it was about work.’

Yuta: ‘It was a sunscreen commercial with Massu, if I’m not wrong? Please don’t feel bothered by me and continue talking. I will wait here for ten minutes!’

Ryuji: ‘So, you mean we should end this talk in ten minutes?’

Tsubasa: ‘Fufu, we will do our best.’

Yuta: ‘Ehehe, thanks, Tsubasa-chan ♪.’

Ryuji: ‘Wait a minute, Tsubasa, aren’t you lenient toward Yuta?’

Yuta: ‘It’s okay for Ryu-chan to be toward me as well, you know?’

Ryuji: ‘Haa….. Anyways, could you stay quiet for ten minutes.’

Yuta: ‘Yeーs!’

Part 3

ーAnother day.ー

Tsubasa: ‘Thank you for the photo shoot, Yuta-kun.’

Yuta: ‘Likewise, Tsubasa-chan!’

Yuta: ‘I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. Without thinking I kept talking with the cameraman.’

Tsubasa: ‘We still have time, so it’s fine. More importantly, what is the matter?’

Yuta: ‘Mmh, I was just taught a way to take photos. Until now, I shot everything in auto mode, but after all the trouble I want to try various things out.’

Yuta (blushes): ‘It’s interesting how completely different the feeling of taking a picture is just by changing the settings a bit, like the exposure* or aperture**…… It’s difficult to remember them, but I want to try studying the settings more ♪.’

Tsubasa: ‘This sounds quite professional…..! I’m also looking forward to what kind of photos Yuta-kun will take from now on.’

Yuta: ‘Ehehe, thanks! When I can take a photo I’m content with then I also want to take one of Tsubasaーー’

Yuta: ‘......Hm? Wasn’t there a raindrop just now?’ ___

Yuta: ‘Waah, a rain shower!? Tsubasa-chan, let’s go somewhere with a roof!’

Tsubasa: ‘Y-Yes!’ ___

Yuta: ‘Phew….. Good thing that we were able to find a place to take shelter from the rain. Are you alright, Tsubasa-chan? Aren’t you cold?’

Tsubasa: ‘Thank you for asking. I got a little bit, but I’m fine. Shall we take shelter here for some time until the shower abates?’

Yuta: ‘Let’s do so. It was so sunny a moment ago that the rain startled me.’

Yuta (smiles): ‘Yet….. Sudden rain is a little exciting, isn’t it? How do I say, it’s like a drama seriesーー’

Tsubasa: ‘Yuta-kun? ….. Is something wrong?’

Yuta (blushes): ‘Photo chance, Tsubasa-chan!’

Tsubasa: ‘Photo chance?’

Yuta: ‘Yeah, the camera comes into play!!’

ーshutter button noiseー

Yuta: ‘Waah, look, look! Even the raindrops can be taken beautifully!!’

Tsubasa: ‘Amazing…..! It’s taken so clearly.’

Yuta: ‘The cameraman taught me that when we talked. He said that when shooting moving objects it’s best to increase the shutter speed.’

Yuta (excited): ‘Such a glittering feeling….. I want to try shooting more!’

ーYuta runs off.ー

Tsubasa: ‘P-Please wait. Yuta-kun, you will get wet.’

Yuta: ‘This much is fine! Since it’s waterproof, it won’t break even if it gets wet ♪.’

Tsubasa: ‘It’s not about the camera, if Yuta-kun gets wet it will be troublesーー’

Yuta (blushes): ‘Ehehe~, I’m so glad I carried the camera with me!’

Yuta: ‘It’s like Tsubasa-chan said. Thanks!’

Tsubasa: ‘Ah…..’

ーYuta runs further away.ー

Yuta: ‘I’ll shoot over here for a bit. And Tsubasa-chan waits there!’

Tsubasa: ‘Y-Yuta-kun…..!’

Yuta: ‘Alright, let’s take more great pictures~♪. Keep on coming, rain~!’

END _________________

* Exposure (露光・ろこう): Photo Exposure. ー “Exposure is one of the most fundamental photography terms. When you take a picture, you press the shutter button to open a camera’s aperture, and light streams in, triggering a response from a sensor. Exposure is the amount of light that reaches your camera’s sensor, creating visual data over a period of time.[....]” [Source: adobe.com]

** Aperture (絞り・しぼり): Here it refers to the camera’s aperture. ー “Aperture refers to the opening of a lens's diaphragm through which light passes. It is calibrated in f/stops and is generally written as numbers such as 1.4, 2, 2.8, 4, 5.6, 8, 11 and 16. [.....]” [Source: nikonusa.com]

#b project #b-project #yuta ashu #thrive #myps #card:2019

25 notes · View notes

one-boring-person · 4 years ago

Note

Okay so request~~~~

So at the end of last blood, he never stays at his ranch. He tells the aunt “Idk. I’ll move around, like always.” And then proceeds to destroy his home and land beyond repair, you know that story i wrote about picking up first blood rambo?? Well, change that to old man rambo!

What about him having rhat random chance meeting with someone like SR(from the one i wrote) and staying with them. How they take care of him without even knowing him, and how he has a chance to try out a new life away from war and what he was with someone who’s young and starting out on their own ambitions.

I could totally see him being introduced to SR’s friends as “oh, my new roommate!” And him telling SR all about vague war stories, they teach him to cook and cook him breakfast. Honestly just rambo being taken somewhere far away and nice and staying with someone who definitely has their own problems, but takes on the therapy by helping him instead.

Basically, SR is very very damaged and rambo can tell- but they’re so sweet and responsible, mature, and loyal. They take out emotions and pain through spreading love instead of war, he can’t let that go. Not now

(Hopefully that gives you ideas!!!)

I'm sorry this took so damn long for me to write, and I'm sorry that it's so bad, too, but I hope you like it in any case!😓😅

Life Goes On.

John Rambo (Rambo: Last Blood) x Named!OC (not mine)

Warnings: injury detail, death, blood

Masterlist

John's eyes are barely open as he sluggishly guides the horse beneath him further on, their surfaces dry and sore even as he blinks them. By now it's useless, the dust in the air having gotten into his corneas within the first hour of his long ride, irritating his scleras very quickly. Exhaustion has long since numbed out any pain he still feels, his eyes becoming the least of his worries as he gradually loses the sensation in his lower abdomen, where his more serious wound is bleeding profusely onto his shirt, still oozing even after fifteen hours of being left alone. He knows the blood flow isn't too bad anymore, as his hasty attempts to patch himself up have left him with a better chance of surviving, but his other wounds are slowly driving him to a comatose state. The veteran can't move his fingers properly, the digits clunky and uncoordinated as he tries to grip onto the reins, the blisters from the tough leather split and leaking as he struggles to do so. Nausea has settled into his head, his vision blurred as his strength slowly fails him - he's too old to have survived as he used to. Without his medication, John finds himself plagued constantly by flashes of past grief and sorrow, images of his dead team back in 'Nam flooding his conscience, accompanied by the beaten and bruised face of Gabrielle.

Beneath him, the horse walks slowly, his thighs aching from the hours of riding, chafing sores lining them under the fabric of his trousers, his body slouched forwards in the saddle. Pity for the animal also gnaws at his mind, and he feels a pang of guilt as he realises that it's unlikely it will be able to carry him much further without any respite. It's head is drooped, steps slow and unsteady, panting breaths rushing from its throat in haggard bursts. If he had any energy, John would remove the tack from the horse and let it go, but he knows this isn't a plausible idea for him if he wants to survive. He owes it to Maria to survive.

His conscience starts to slip, just as the sun comes to its highest point in the sky, heat and dry air lulling him into a false sense of security as he feels his control leaving him. Unable to keep a grip on it, he succumbs to the darkness rising up in his vision, falling into it gratefully, needing the reprieve.

Vaguely, John seems to recall a car pulling up beside him, the door slamming closed as someone shouts to him, hands taking the reins from his. Gravity seems to take control, and John falls from the horse, landing heavily in the dirt, but he doesn't lie there long. Whoever has taken hold of the horse is swift to come to his aid, pulling him into their arms as they try to drag him back to their car. They're struggling, and he wants to fight back, to tell whoever it is to get lost, but he finds he can't, his throat too raw to even force a sound past, so he can only stay limp as they manhandle him into their vehicle, murmuring gently to him the entire time.

It's at that point that he finally loses consciousness.

Agony floods John's body as he comes to again, drawing a hoarse groan from his scratchy throat as he jerks upwards, his instincts still ready for action even after all these years. Blearily, he blinks, hands scrambling to identify his surroundings, dull surprise dripping into his conscience as he finds a soft duvet and pillows on top of a comfortable mattress, warmth encompassing him. Frowning, the veteran pushes himself upright, ignoring the pain in his body as he does so, his hand going up to cup his wound instinctively. Shocked to find a clean dressing plastered over the ragged injury, John blinks again and takes a look around.

He's in a small room, laying on a bed in the centre, the domicile unfamiliar to him. Idly he wonders if maybe he's died and found some kind of afterlife, but a sharp stab of agony from his side eliminates this idea from his head in seconds. The room is quite comfortably decorated, designed to be cosy and close, whilst remaining roomy enough to allow for decent living space. A few photographs line the wall, accompanied by posters of movies he's never bothered to go see, having never really managed to overcome the triggers they often set off when he's not expecting them.

Just as he goes to climb out of the bed, the door swings open, and an unfamiliar figure steps in, a first aid kit held in one hand as they juggle a bowl of water in the other. Instantly, John's on his feet, instincts taking over as he ignores the flare of agony that springs up in him as he swiftly moves over to the newcomer. In seconds, they find themselves pinned to the wall, a hand wrapped around their throat. Yelping in fear, they let go of the bowl and first aid kit, smaller hands coming up to grip his larger arm, eyes wide as they stare at him in shock, wincing as warm water splashes the two of them.

It takes all John has not to crush their windpipe, his rational mind taking over the militant instinct as he keeps them in a threatening hold, the youth unable to move at all. A wave of nausea washes over him, and he falters, vision spinning wildly as he drops back a step, losing his grip on the newcomer as quickly as he secured it, the sudden disorientation throwing him off as he falls to the floor again. Grunting in pain, he lands heavily, the impact jarring his bones and muscles roughly. Recovering quickly, the newcomer drops down beside him, eyes widened in concern now, rather than fear.

"Are you alright?" They ask him, voice soft with worry, searching his face for any serious problem.

It takes him a moment, but eventually, John manages a response, his usually rough voice coarse and gravelly now.

"'M fine."

They just scoff, hesitantly reaching out to help him back up again, heaving his heavy body onto the bed again.

"You are far from fine." They point out, "What happened, you fight a war or something?"

He almost laughs.

"Something like that." John murmurs bitterly, leaning his head back against the headboard.

Shooting him an odd look, the newcomer goes and fetches the spilt bowl of water, sighing at the mess before they hold it up for him to see.

"I'm just gonna get some more water, then I'll patch you up again, that alright?" They ask him, looking somewhat cautious.

Suspicious, John watches them for a sign of deception. Finding none, he simply nods, knowing he can easily take them out if he needs to. They smile, going to leave the room, only to stop in the doorway and turn around.

"My name is SR, by the way." They introduce themself.

"John." He grunts in way of reply, watching as they nod and leave the room.

Two months have passed and he's no longer bedridden, the veteran able to move freely around the house, even though there's still a little residual pain, and the mental horrors he faces every night leave him drained with no reprieve. With no medication to help him, it's no surprise that John has relapsed into a familiar state of sullen silence and brooding, finding himself reminded of the things he'd rather forget every day, in everything he does and everything he sees.

SR is no exception to this: he has warmed up to them, and he somewhat trusts them, the youth having shown him more kindness than he has experienced since Maria and Gabrielle. Their only downfall is that they remind him a lot of his murdered niece, the two having very similar traits that very quickly sussed out. Childhood trauma has led them to becoming very determinedly driven and friendly, ambitious and confident in some aspects of life, whilst also noticeably damaged in other aspects, that he realises very quickly. Somehow, however, they always keep themselves afloat, and choose not to show any of the weight bearing down on their mind, as he knows it is, though he is also very swift to realise that their way of dealing with this pain is very simple; they work to make life better for others. It's visible in everything they do: cooking for him every day, caring for him in any way they can, doing their best to let him know he can trust them.

At first, he had been somewhat cold and closed off to them, but they swiftly worked to help warm him up again, reawakening the more personable version of himself he managed to cultivate in his time on the ranch. It was nice to become a little lighter again, but his guard stayed up, and still is, though not as much as it was before. Vividly, he can remember the time he found himself trusting them further: when their friends had come over to catch up.

Naturally, they'd all been surprised to find some nearly hostile ex-soldier residing in their friend's home, living his life out with them. As soon as they'd said something, however, SR had leapt in to defend him, and had inadvertently shown their care for him on a much greater scale than before, reminding John of what his life was like with Maria and Gabrielle. When their friends had then left, an hour or so later, he had stepped up to them and told them how thankful he was, feeling more cared for than he ever thought he would.

Now, after weeks of being taught how to cook, and being cooked for, plus hours and hours of talking with each other as they helped each other to overcome past grief, he can very honestly say he is immensely grateful to be with them. They know more about him than he told himself he'd ever tell anyone, SR often listening with rapt attention to his war stories, eyes wide as they hear all of the harrowing details. He feels comfortable telling these tales, and they seem content to listen, so he appreciates them in whole new ways.

And when he finally opens himself back up to physical contact, the embrace he receives from his excitable carer is only too worth it, the first smile in months gracing his lips as he does so. Life feels like it's turning on its axis again - for the better this time.

#sylvester stallone #rambo #sly stallone #john rambo #john rambo x reader #rambo imagine #rambo x reader

50 notes · View notes

flourishandblctts · 4 years ago

Text

Home || 𝓒edric 𝓓iggory

ɪ ᴀᴍ ᴛʀʏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴇᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴀᴍᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ -ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴜʀɴ

There were countless nights you lay in your bed letting the duvet cover the cold from you but it never seems to leave you alone, you toss and turn and try to find the right spot to fall asleep but this voice that calls you over and over again it will always make you cry out for his name in the silence of the night.

Many have thought it would be easy to forget the boy who had the sun and stars around him, that in the room he lights up the whole atmosphere and he was someone you’d never forget crossing paths with, those smile, laugh, his voice and his grey eyes that reminds you of the moon.

The moon, the moon that you look up to every now and then it was cold outside but you couldn’t careless because that moon up in the sky brought tears in your eyes, shutting everything off around you as you close your eyes and try to reminiscent the days that had left you behind.

Suddenly opening your eyes you woke up in a familiar room, it smelt sweet and masculine at the same time, she was wrapped around a gray duvet and to her surprise she was wearing Cedric’s quidditch jumper she looked around and everything seemed normal as if he never left.

The door suddenly swung open revealing Cedric with his hair damped and a towel around the back of his neck as he wore a black shirt and gray sweatpants, his eyes met yours he instantly smiled seeing you awake “Good morning darling.” he plopped himself next to you and kissed both of your eyes and nose until he was kissing you all over your face causing you to giggle. You were lightly pushing him away but you enjoyed it when Cedric was like this and he just loves to shower you with all his love and affection he has for you. As he pushed you down to his bed and both your hands on his he looks down at you while that gorgeous smile never left his lips and his eyes shone like the moon at cold night. “Let’s come down everyone will be looking for us.” You nodded and he helped you up getting ready and he always love doing your hair ever since you taught him he likes doing your hair because he’s so proud he can do braids now. Standing in front of the mirror fixing your uniform Cedric stood behind you wrapping his arms around your waist as he placed his chin up top your head with a smile plastered on his face you looked up at him and just giggled at the sight of him like this.

The day went by but it felt surreal, was this even a dream the last time you check you were outside admiring the moon but you just woke up being in his room and him being completely here, next to you, talking to you, beside you, and now as the night comes he insisted you sleep beside him which you did. ‘if this was a dream I’d never want to wake up from it’ you thought to yourself and snuggled closer to Cedric as he moves closer to you and his arm tightly wrapped around you as it made you feel safe around him.

The sunlight crept in behind the curtains, afraid that it was all a dream afraid to turn around and see him gone and that you slept in the cold again. You turned only to see Cedric still asleep, his eyes shut and his lips slightly parted you admire him a small smile made it’s way to your face you traced his nose, eyebrows, cheek bones, and down to his lips. He suddenly grabbed your wrist which took you by surprised and he shot his eyes open laughing at your reaction “I have been awake I was just waiting for you, but I must say I loved how your traced my face baby.” He kissed your hand and pushed you back down to his bed the duvet covering both of you as it was going to be a long Saturday morning. The two of you decided to take a picnic outside he was carrying the basket while his other hand held your hands, you smiled at him as you both went to your spot which it was the one surrounded around roses he loved the smell the flowers produced and he told you roses reminds him of you because you love roses especially the pink ones. You suddenly remember when he was chasing after you before you two ever started dating he would leave pink roses for you until you said yes to him being his girlfriend. It was until everyone was gathered around the great hall you sat next to Cedric who seemed to be anxious about something “is there something wrong Ced?” You asked him placing a hand under his chin making him look up at you as your eyes meet he just shook his head and rubbing your shoulders up and down “It’s nothing love, I’m fine.” You didn’t want to believe but you just decided to let it go.

It wasn’t until Barty Crouch Sr. was talking beside Dumbledore, and you remember this was the Triwizard but you forgot who were in the games all you could remember was Fleur and Viktor being there, until it was time to announce who were going to participate in the games you zoned out trying to wrack your brain until it hits you-

“Cedric Diggory!” You cried out causing everyone to look at you at the sudden outburst even the rest of the professors looked at you as fear was written all over your face, “you can’t join! Take him out.” You begged but then another note came out and Professor Dumbledore took it in his hands “Harry Potter” this was happening again but you thought you can save Cedric this time, “Professor it’s a trap Harry isn’t in the right age someone might have done that!” You said and the great hall was completely silent but your pleas could be heard from where Viktor, Fleur and Cedric were. “She seems to upset over something Diggory.” Viktor said looking at Cedric who was both hurt and confuse at your reaction to him participating in the triwizard, he expected you’d support him instead of pleading the professor to take him out. Nothing worked you tried everything you could to take Cedric out of the triwizard but all you could do is make sure he was alright running up to him when he got burns from the dragon, not leaving his side making sure he was close to you it’s beginning again the nightmares. You sobbed from your pillow until it was soaked with your tears, you over slept and forgetting it was the 3rd task and Cedric was looking for you but you weren’t next to your friends Katie Bell and Angelina, you were nowhere to be seen. He even whispered next to his dad Amos Diggory.

“I haven’t seen her I just want to see her before the games.” Cedric said looking upset that the games might start and him not being able to see you first, in your dorm it was one of your dorm mates waking you up until you heard the canon shoot you suddenly bolted up, you mentally scolded yourself for crying all night and ended up being knocked out asleep you made your way sitting next to Katie and Angelina who looked at you “I overslept, where is he what’s going on?!” Your voice scared the two as you seem to be anxious over something “Y/n calm down it just started and Cedric was looking for you he asked for 15 minutes before the games start but they couldn’t wait any further more.” Katie said as she munch down at her chocolate frog and Angelina was eating Bertie Botts passing you one but you shook your head not feeling like eating and waiting for them to come out, Minutes pass your thoughts run wild and your heart thumping rather fast as Fleur was out and next was Viktor, he was still inside this made you even nervous if you should tell them or not because this had happened before and you don’t want to lose Cedric again. You jolted up and ran to Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore, “something feels terrible inside the maze I’ve seen it before like a vision or a dream-” “Y/n the games is a dangerous one so please take a seat-” You didn’t like to be cut off but they should get it direct then “Cedric will die if you don’t take them out, Voldemort and the rest of the death eaters did this I know it, I’ve seen it so please take them both out of there.” You pleaded and everyone was looking at you for mentioning such to your own boyfriend’s death and Voldemort’s, Amos looked at you as if he believed you he went down and grabbed your arm but it wasn’t harsh rather gentle as he seem to be in disbelief “is this true? Please if it is take my son out.” Professor Dumbledore suddenly stood up but then the band started to play music causing you to turn your head and saw Cedric was alive and Harry who seemed to be happy that the two of them got the triwizard cup together.

Not wasting any time you ran to Cedric and he opened his arm as your body collided with his you let out your sobs and he was rocking you back and forth, he was warm and you felt his breathing on your neck as he kissed your temple whispering “it’s okay I’m here, I’m here.” He was here. Here with you around your arms.

“Darling please open your eyes, it’s time to come home.” You opened your eyes only to be greeted by the round full moon shining in front of you, you felt someone behind you-you turned to see Cedric’s ghost smiling at you like he always does when he sees you, walking closer to it but slowly it faded away into the cold night.

“It has been years and your still the one I love Diggory, you still have my heart.” You said to yourself but realize a yellow and gray scarf was wrapped around you but it only made you smile because this was his scarf that you never gave to him but he loves it when you wear his clothes.

In the morning, your daughter was getting ready for her to return to Hogwarts she had dark brown hair and gray eyes a striking similarity to Cedric it was no lie that she is Cedric Diggory’s daughter she was in Hufflepuff like her dad and she was the seeker of her quidditch team, everything she was is very similar to her father. “Ready to go honey?” she stood up and took her trunk walking to Kings Cross and through platform 9 and 3/4 she saw her friends as he waved at them you smiled at the sight of your daughter who made many friends like Cedric did as well, she turned to you and ran up and hugged you tight.

“Take care mom, I’ll see you in the holidays and I promise to write back.” She spoke rather fast as she was out of breath, you pushed her curls back and kissed her forehead. “I love you more sweetie, don’t do anything that will cause me to have a letter about your behavior.” Both of you laughed soon after the train was off and you watched her go, “You’d be so happy to see her Cedric.” You wrapped yourself with the yellow and gray scarf around you and walked out heading to work, as usual. The life you lived on after Cedric’s gone.

the gif is not mine, credits to the owner.

#cedric diggory #cedric diggory imagine #cedric diggory oneshot #harry potter imagine #hp #harry potter #harrypotter #harry potter x reader #goblet of fire #hogwarts #triwizard champions #triwizard tournament #yule ball

27 notes · View notes

eyes0ny0u · 4 years ago

Text

Pastel Mafia

@quagmireisadora finished Chapter 2 - FINALLY! TT ^ TT

CHAPTER 1: A ROUGH DAY

CHAPTER 2: WHEN THE GOING GETS ROUGH

Kibum sighed as he entered his apartment. Leaning against the door as he took off his shoes. He glanced at the microwave clock he could see from where he stood: 2:18 am. He's got maybe three hours before he has to get up for his part-time job at Albert's, a fancy bakery in the upper east side, at the opposite end of town. He would love nothing better than to sleep in tomorrow, but Albert's paid the best out of all his part-time jobs, and he got tips.

Right now, he needed all the tips and extra hours he can get. His last roommate had bailed on him, leaving him with an entire two-bedroom apartment to pay. He had begged his landlord to let him pay for his half of the apartment and will get him the rest later.

Kibum remembered the call from St. John's collection department, he still owed them a portion of last month's installment. His fist clenched at the embarrassment of admitting to a total stranger he didn't even have five dollars to his name. His last one disappeared when he lost his wallet.

Kibum trudged to the tiny kitchen and pulled out the leftover Chinese from his bag, thankful that the shift manager had let him take home whatever portions were left. He popped the take out carton into the microwave and looked around his apartment, with its peeling paint and cold air - he had barely turned on the heater since winter began. He was sleeping with thick clothes on, the thermostat just above '5' at the dial.

Kibum's eyes landed on the syllabus stuck to the fridge. The tears exhaustion couldn't squeeze from him poured at the thought that he will have to stop school.

God, he was tired.

So tired - but life didn't care.

Kibum wiped his cheeks. Squaring his shoulders as he pulled the warmed up Chinese and dug in. No use in indulging his tears. He didn't have enough food to drown his feelings.

- O -

"Carlos Amarillo at 57, was confirmed to have passed away by his son, Gian Amarillo today. No details were given to what caused the business tycoon's sudden death. Amarillo, who was the head of the Amarillo Group conglomerate, was a noted businessman and humanitarian in the area -," Jinki tuned out the late night news, lips tightening at the praises.

"What a bunch of hypocrites," Taemin sneered at the TV. "Not a month ago, they wanted Amarillo's head for Hawthorne Bridge!"

"Had they pushed a little further, they would've found proof of involvement," Minho interjected.

"They would have gotten paid off or threatened," Jinki said, reviewing the report on the shipment of electronics that arrived yesterday. "Or found their contact dead."

"True," Minho agreed, swirling the scotch he had been nursing since the news started. "What do you think Junior will do?"

Jinki leaned back, loosening his tie. He'd never worked with Gian before. All he knew about the new head of the Amarillo was that he was in the business, and he was ambitious.

"I heard Gian was banished from the main family for running that side deal with Salazar," Jinki said, referring to a semi-prominent Mexican cartel. "So, I'm not sure if he's going to declare war or be open for business."

"My money is on declaring war," Taemin said, slurping an oyster. "If he wants to gain the respect of his father's men, he'll be doing just that. I mean, you did when you took over the business."

"Yeah, but Gian has a hater with his father's numero uno," Minho said, leaning over Taemin's oyster bucket to reach for the charcuterie board. "Rumor has it Vincenzo Benotti might be the old Amarillo's love child."

"Really?" Jinki asked Minho. "I've never heard of this."

"I'm not surprised," Minho shrugged before popping a cracker piled with pate and cheese into his mouth. "It's parlour game rumours; some drunken Amarillo lackey may have blabbed over drinks or said out of spite. You know how it is."

Jinki turned to his computer and pulled up the file on Carlos Amarillo. Under the 'Known Associates' directory, was a picture of Vincenzo. The man had black hair and brown eyes. Just like Amarillo Sr. Being Italian that didn't mean anything. But something about the slant of the man's jaw reminded Jinki of Carlos.

"Minho, investigate Vincenzo," Jinki ordered. "I want to know everything. What town his ancestors were from to the brand of their favourite red wine."

Jinki wasn't sure if he was seeing things, but it was worth investigating. Lovechild or not, Vincenzo might be vying for the top seat. Gian Amarillo could need some help with ensuring his position in the organization. His deal with Carlos Amarillo may not be as dead as he thought it was. On life support, but it looked like it could be revived.

He just needed to convince either Vincenzo or Gian that he would make a good ally despite the little fiasco last week. What're a few bullets between business partners? In their world, it was practically considered a nicety.

"By the way," Jinki suddenly remembered his pet project. "What do we have on the guy who saved my ass last week?"

- O -

Albert's was, as usual, teeming with yuppies, grabbing their trendy breakfast before heading off to work. Kibum rang up orders as fast as he could, but his mind still on the unpaid bills he needed to take care of. Kibum glanced down the line, trying to determine how much longer the rush was going to last. With detachment, he noted the quality of apparel Albert's clientele sported and envied the financial security, all of them exuded.

"A croissant and a large of your medium roast, please," a woman with flawless makeup and Gucci bag said, barely looking him in the face as she pulled out a Valentino wallet. Kibum punched the order in; $15.08 for Anna. A breakfast for Anna was Kibum's meal budget for 3-days, courtesy of his employee rate at the Dong Fan Chinese restaurant.

"An espresso please and the fruit and protein box," man in gleaming Rolex and Balenciaga briefcase ordered. His suit was probably Italian, ranging around $5,000.00 to $8,000.00, depending on the make—the leather briefcase around $2,000.00. The Rolex was at least $3,000.00. The guy's entire ensemble would have more than paid off his grandmother's hospital bill.

Sir, would you mind pawning me your Rolex so that I can get the hospital off my back? Kibum silently asked the yuppie who didn't bother leaving a tip.

"The yogurt parfait and medium-light roast, please," a red-head regular asked. The diamond engagement ring on her finger was so big; it was at least 2 carats with a platinum band encrusted with tiny diamonds. Kibum's entire year of schooling was sitting on that woman's ring finger.

Would you mind lending me your ring so I can enroll? Kibum asked the woman in his head as he flashed his practiced smile when she dropped a toonie in the tip jar. I would like to make more of my life than bussing tables and waiting on people. Please.

The next customer was dressed in a simple navy blue pinstripe suit. One could say the man didn't belong in the "fashionable" line. Working at Albert's for the past three years had taught Kibum how to size people at a glance. Gauging where they belong in the socio-economic ladder had become his weird expertise. Though the outfit was simple, borderline plain, the perfect fit of the shoulders and elegant drop of the knife-edge crease of the pants said tailored. The understated silver - most likely platinum - watch and leather loafers screamed old money.

"The blueberry muffin and a tall medium roast, please," the man said, handing Kibum a fifty dollar bill.

Kibum barely stopped an eye-roll. C'mon, dude, it's barely 8 am. Have a little sense, and don't drop a bill so large so early in the morning. "Sir, do you have a smaller bill?"

"No change?" the man asked an eyebrow raised.

"Unfortunately," Kibum said with a fake apologetic smile.

"Keep the change then."

"Sir, your total is $12.30," Kibum exclaimed.

"I don't have a smaller bill," the man said as he placed the bill on the counter and walked away.

"Sir -," Kibum called out, but the next customer stepped in front of him.

Kibum punched the payment on auto-pilot and dropped the change in the tip jar, almost feeling nauseous. That was hella over the top, and somehow assholish in its extravagance. But he was thankful for the extra cash he was going to get.

After his shift at Albert's, Kibum rushed to the bus stop for his afternoon shift at Dong Fan. The bus was pulling away from the curb when he arrived. Kibum gritted his teeth against the frustration surging through him. He was going to be late for his shift and that meant income loss.

Kibum took a deep breath to stifle the string of curses rising from his chest. He took out his phone to call the restaurant but noticed he had an email from St. John's. He was tempted to ignore it but tapped on the icon anyways.

Kibum blinked at the message. He scrolled up again to check the sender. Yeah, there it was, St. Johns Hospital. But something was wrong because the email contained a receipt for the amount he owed the hospital.

Confused, Kibum clicked on the phone number in the signature, brow furrowing as the call went through. After being transferred to accounting he asked about the status of his account.

"Your account is up to date."

"Excuse me?"

"Your balance was paid for in full yesterday."

"By whom?" Kibum asked still in disbelief, afraid to believe. "I didn't make the payment," Kibum said. "No one else would make the payment."

"Payment came in electronically from Jjinggu LLC," the agent answered. "It could be one of those angel-sponsors."

"What's an angel-sponsor?"

"They're anonymous individuals or organizations who will settle random accounts as part of their charity work."

"And you don't know their names at all?"

"No, I'm sorry. Payors are not required to identify themselves."

"Ok... but you're sure, they made the payment against my account?"

"Yes, sir," Kibum heard the operator's smile. "I'm one hundred percent sure, Mr. Kim."

"OK," Kibum whispered. "Thanks."

"Was there anything else I can help you with?"

"No, that's it."

Kibum disconnected the call, reeling from the relief. Tears pricked his eyes as the weight of the debt lifted off of his chest. Kibum cupped his hands over his phone, holding it against his forehead.

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you," Kibum chanted in whispers, collapsing on the bus stop bench, trying to contain the tremors running through his body. Glad for a very long time he was alone.

#i did a thing #man what a struggle #why can't I finish chaptered works?!#how do y'all do it?#SHINee #jinki #onew #key #minho #taemin #fanfic #pastel mafia

29 notes · View notes

just-horrible-things · 5 years ago

Text

Loiral and Marcus - Recapture - 7.iii

[First | Prev | Contents | Next]

[Caution: gore.]

Loiral whines as he feels the chains on his ankles shift, stammers another useless “no no no please-!” as his legs are lifted, then screams as his body comes off the floor, forcing the broken limbs to bear his weight. He loses all other awareness as he swings from his ankles. Each break is alight with agony, stretched to the point of rupture. The already-torn-and-swollen tissues cannot bear the strain, he is almost certain that his legs are going to come off. The agony makes him jerk and writhe helplessly, and the motion redoubles the agony in turn. His throat is already raw but he screams and screams, panicked and shameless with desperation.

Suddenly fresh pain slams into his side from hip to armpit, stinging and bruising at the same time. The force knocks him sideways, jolting the strained breaks yet further. The cuffs on his wrists jerk him back, stopping him from swinging freely, yanking hard on the breaks in his arms.

Again, and this time the swathe of pain falls across his back. Again the impact slams him sideways, pulling his body taut between his ankles and wrists. Again, across the belly. Loiral’s arms are chained to the floor with little slack and he cannot lift his arms to defend his exposed body. His hands twitch and spasm frantically, catching at the chain and tangling in the links. He’s oblivious to the force of the metal on his fragile fingers, utterly consumed by the greater agony in his limbs.

The blows keep falling. Loiral can’t even tell what kind of injury is being done to his skin. Each time it’s a broad tract of stinging heat across his body, littered with sharper stabs of pain. It pales at first beside the effects of the sheer force, each impact translated by the chains into a blindingly hard tug on each and every break. He can’t think, can’t breathe past his own screaming. In scattered, fragmented thoughts he longs to black out. But it goes on and on and on without respite.

The fire across his skin gets worse with every impact. Lacerations layer across lacerations, leaving him raw and burning. There is no warning as to where the blows will fall next. Back, chest, back again. Sides, thighs, shoulders, arms. Blood drips across his skin and forms rivulets down his arms. Sometimes the agony stabs hard into particularly sensitive points and rivals even the breaks. Occasionally his face is struck and the weapon leaves deep burning gashes across cheek, chin, scalp. He twists and struggles helplessly, driven by raw instinct.

His voice gives out long before the punishment ends. His thrashing grows weaker. He is all agony. All awful, over-extended breaks and shredded, searing skin. There’s no thought left, no hope, no reason, no understanding, no sense of self. There is only pain layered over pain, and the torment gets worse and worse and worse without end.

---

Marcus loves the way his prisoner’s strength fails. He loves the helpless tremor, and the way the back-arching tension gives way into feeble limpness. He loves the wet sound of the scourge against bloodied flesh, and the near-silent straining gasps. The drow’s mouth is stretched wide, lips peeled back from the teeth as he tries to scream, but his voice has cracked and splintered and faded and now there is only the quiet whistle of air forced through his tight throat.

Marcus loves the opportunity to let loose, to abandon careful restraint and break his fragile little toy. He works the whip up and down across that narrow, frail-boned body until the skin hangs in ragged scraps and strips from the lacerated flesh and the drow is coated evenly in crimson, seeping blood from his knees down to the tips of his fingers where they just barely brush the floor. There was more than a handspan of clearance when Marcus started. The breaks in the long bones of the drow’s legs are horribly elongated, the soft tissues stretched grotesquely by his body weight and the constant jolt of the whip.

Eventually Marcus stands back to simply watch Loiral tremble. There’s no visible reaction to the respite from the whipping. Only the frantic, irregular pace of his breath gives away that he is still conscious, though Marcus knows that he will be. It is difficult to pass out while suspended head-down.

Unhurriedly he kneels down in front of his victim. He traces his fingers along the edge of the blindfold to the back of the head, and unpicks the knots with gentle, precise care. The cloth is sodden with blood as it peels away from the skin.The drow’s pupils constrict to pin-pricks at the sudden onslaught of light. But the eyes remain wide and glazed, unseeing. Loiral is lost in the agony, rendered all but insensible. Just the way Marcus wants him.

He pauses to stroke the drow’s cheek, unable to resist pressing firmly enough to pull wide the gash left there by a stray hook. Blood flows freely over and around his fingers. Loiral reacts not at all. Marcus did not mean to tear up his face, but all in all he is quite pleased with how few strikes landed off target. The new scourge is not yet familiar, and placing all nine tails precisely is not trivial.

Still smiling to himself, he stands and unlatches the chain that suspends his prisoner from the ceiling. He lowers Loiral to the floor slowly, relishing every feeble twitch and agonised gasp. The drow’s chest heaves, sucking in air. Marcus can see the broken ribs shifting beneath the patchwork of shredded skin and exposed muscle. It is beautiful. He could just watch his prisoner shudder and struggle to breathe for hours.

But he only waits until the frantic gasping slows a little. He cannot be sure how conscious Loiral is, and he doesn’t want to leave him too long to recover. “How are you feeling, drow?” he asks, smirking fractionally at his own humour. “Are you still in there, or have I driven you out of your mind altogether?” There is no answer – not unexpected – so he puts a little more edge into his tone. “Do you hear me, drow? I asked you a question, I expect an answer.” Loiral’s mouth twitches, but no sound emerges. His eyes slide sideways, searching, but fail to settle and focus. Marcus crouches beside him and gently turns his face to help him make eye contact. His gaze wavers, eyes still dull. “Do you hear me, drow?” Marcus repeats patiently. “—hhhh—” whistles Loiral’s breath as his abused voicebox fails to engage. “Words, drow. The answer you are looking for is ‘yes, master’.” “—ss—” he manages faintly “—ss — mmhh—sr—” “Good,” Marcus purrs, amused. “Have you learned your lesson yet?” Another near-silent whistle of a whimper. “—mmhh — plhhh — sss — plea—hsss—” Marcus chuckles.

But amusing as the incoherent attempts at pleading are, there is little evidence of understanding. Marcus wants to speak to his prisoner. He anticipated this. After all, he deliberately took Loiral past the point of reason, it is no surprise that he is not recovering fast. So Marcus incants a spell-prayer. Just a small thing, a little expenditure of power. He touches his fingers to Loiral’s forehead. To his irritation, the magic fizzles out against the drow’s skin. Marcus frowns. He casts again, and this time delivers the spellcharge into the exposed muscle at the base of the neck. The enchantment will find the mind regardless, it does not need to be delivered directly to the cranium. A minor nuisance.

As the magic takes effect, Loiral’s eyes clear and find focus. He does not look happy to be forced into lucidity. His mouth works uselessly. The utter terror written across his face is gratifying. He will learn from this experience. Now he just needs reminding what lesson it is that he is meant to be learning. “Are you hearing me now, drow?” “… yes, master…” Loiral whispers. A shudder ripples through his flesh and makes his eyes roll back for a moment despite the magical aid. “Good. Do you remember why you are suffering like this?” “… yes, mmh– master.” Marcus waits, wondering idly if his silence will be cue enough, or if the drow will need more explicit prompting. “… tried … to run …” comes the confession at last, “ss-- I’m-- I’m sorry, master… so sorry, please, ple-ease…” Satisfaction is warm in Marcus’ chest. He has picked his victim well, this time. Loiral breaks so beautifully into shards of panic and servility.

“I do so enjoy your submission, drow,” he tells him fondly. “Show me more of this in future and less defiance, and I will not have to keep breaking you so.” Silent sobs break Loiral’s breath up into shuddering gasps. “…please,” he mouths, “please, please…” “Make no mistake, though. Your screams bring me just as much pleasure. Do you think that you are at the limits of your endurance? You know nothing of the limits of pain, not yet.”

“Listen very closely.” Loiral’s breath is very fast again, shallow and irregular with terror. But his eyes are still focused. “If this were solely for joy,” Marcus tells him, speaking slowly, clearly and with unconcealed relish, “I would next finish breaking your limbs. Six or seven breaks for each of the long bones. Or perhaps I would take a hammer and reduce them to shards, as I did your feet. “Once shattered like that, a prisoner can be restrained by weaving the limbs through cage bars or the spokes of a wheel. Can you imagine how that would feel? I doubt your imagination captures the full intensity. “I might crack your teeth next, or finish the flaying that I have started with the whip. Or perhaps I would just leave you alone with your pain for a few hours. I wonder if you would beg for death, in the end? I would grant it to you eventually, of course. I have a busy schedule, after all, and my goddess loves sacrifice just as yours does.” It is a shame that his prisoner has no voice left. Marcus considers healing his throat so as to hear his whimpers. He is a perfect picture of terror and suffering.

Tragically, though, it is time to lift him back out of despair and offer him some mercy to cling to. Loiral is not merely a sacrifice, despite his recent transgression. “But,” and he touches the drow’s face gently again as he lets his tone warm. “This is not an exercise in self-indulgence, and I do not mean to kill you. This is a lesson for you. And if you learn it well, this will be the end of it. What do you think of that, hmm?” “—please—!” Loiral begs urgently, “please, please—!” Marcus laughs softly. “Very good. I want you to remember this, drow. I want you to remember this point that we have reached. How bad it is, and how it can still get worse. Will you remember?” “—yes,” he sobs, “yes, master, yes—!” “Good. Remember this also: if I must bring you to this point again, I will show a little less restraint. I will take you a little further down the path of agony. You will learn new depths of misery and desperation. Do you understand?” “—yes, master, yes, I— I understand—” “Very good.”

Marcus smiles as he invokes his divine patron again, channeling her healing power. He wants his prisoner witless a little longer, so he crafts a variant spell-prayer that will deliver the required energy over perhaps an hour. The pain will be less intense than a single burst, but it should be more than enough to keep the exhausted drow insensate, especially once the artificial clarity wears off. This time he remembers to deliver the magic to the exposed flesh, bypassing the properties of drow skin.

Loiral convulses as the reddish energy envelops him. His strength is already spent and he can barely lift his back from the floor, but the tortured motions still convey the depth of his agony beautifully. “—mercy—!” he gasps voicelessly, hopelessly “—please please — I’ve learned — please—!” Marcus watches impassively until the attempts at speech stop and the light vanishes from his eyes again.

Then he kneels down to set the broken bones back into place and to lay the limbs out straight. Without proper care, injuries like this are at risk of leaving debilitating scars, even with magical healing. The slow delivery will reduce the risk. Still, he’ll have one of the initiates come and tend to Loiral as he heals.

It will be interesting to see how he takes that, as he starts to return to lucidity.

62 notes · View notes

sloppy-butcher · 5 years ago

Note

Hello! It’s great to see another blog, and I’m so excited to see it grow! For now, tho, please pour me a mug of your finest Hillbilly hcs! I love my baby boi ;w;

bro, I literally have Hillbilly hc’s coming out of my ass. I love Max so so much and I will do anything to make him happy and keep him safe.

I’m going to give some general Hcs for him and then add some fluff or relationship ones as well.

Thank you so much for requesting him and thank you for your support

The Hillbilly (Max Thompson Jr.) HeadCanons

General Headcanons

His name was decided before he was even born. Max Sr. and Evelyn Thompson were very wealthy landowners and therefore needed a worthy heir to inherit their empire. So when Evelyn finally fell pregnant, the two set to work planning every small cogency and detail about their child’s future life. From his gender, what he would do with his life and even to his name, nothing about Max was not already written in stone. What the two could not predict was what Max would look like. They never let anyone see him, lying to their neighbors, friends, and family that the baby had died in childbirth. They were ashamed, disgusted and absolutely repulsed by the sight of the newborn. The flesh of his neck contorting downwards into his shoulder and his face a mass of twisted lumps of skin. They had decided to have a home birth, bringing their legacy into the world by their own hands, a show of total independence and control, so there was no official record of the boy, no legal, outside personal able to protect the baby. It was easier to hide him away, bricking him up in a hole in the basement than to deal with the shame of raising such a beast. What an unworthy, disgusting creature, they would never give over their wealth and name to such a deformed monster.

Evelyn tried breastfeeding Max once but as she watched his mouth latch on her mind screamed and she dropped him before running off and going to scrub her breasts clean from the filth. Throughout it all they never had the guts to kill the child, praying that God would take it back leaving their hands clean from his blood. But he kept crying and they could hear him. Through a cloth or bottle, they would feed him some milk hoping that the little sustenance he received was just enough to keep him quiet until he would eventually stave and die. But he never did and the two never had another child, Evelyn too traumatized by what came out her to ever attempt it again. She didn’t want another to end up looking just as he did. So the Thompsons lived out their lives with their dirty little secret locked up in the basement and growing bigger with each passing day.

Max was scared of the dark, the smallness and the smell of the room drove him to near insanity, but it was all he ever knew. Expect when the big man (his father) would approach him. Light would flood the room and Max would shy away fearful of the man and the brutal hammer he carried. The man would shout and if Max dared to make a move or noise he would be stuck and his food through carelessly over the dirt riddled floor. Sometimes the man would come in with a bucket and douse Max in freezing cold water. Max would shiver and try his best to cling to what little clothing he had for warmth. It was a miserable existence. But one day the big man walked into the room and Max noticed a slight limp to his walk. His head was losing color and the hair around his mouth was a wild, bushy mess. The man put down his hammer for a moment and without thinking Max grabbed it. The man yelled but his voice only seemed to anger Max even more. He raised the hammer high, mirroring the way the man used to hit him, and brought it down hard on the man’s head. There was silence. Breathing hard Max looked into the light and followed the sound of even more noise. He just wanted it to be quiet. As much as he hated that small dark room, the silence it offered him was all he ever took comfort it. He just wanted it to be quiet.

Years later the Adam Family took interest in the Thompson’s land having been abandoned by the owners. However, just like the previous tenants the family was never seen again, their chainsaw stolen and their bodies stuffed into the farm’s large grain silo. They did put up a fight, carving long and deep cuts into Max’s arms and across his face. When the deed was done and the world was quiet again, Max felt tired. There was red stuff all over his body but it was his red stuff, not theirs. He wanted to sleep but something in the darkness called him and promised to make him feel better if he followed. When local authorities finally took notice of the missing people, they investigated the land. And what they found truly disturbed them. In the center of the property was a huge dead tree and scattered all around the base and hung in its branches were the mutilated bodies of hundreds of cows and sheep. They found nothing living on that cursed land.

Relationship Headcanons

Max can’t speak and he barely understands English. It would be incredibly difficult to get through to the boy. The Entity speaks to him on an instinct level, playing Max through his desires and fears not needing to talk using words or concepts. But before you would even try talking to him you would have to gain his trust. Tell him through gestures and patience that he can trust you and allow you to get closer.

You met him by chance, or was it fate? You were searching through the woods, your mind wondering until it noticed the wall of yellow corn stand before you. Without thinking you walked into the maze, engulfed but the silence of it all you were swept away and lost within your mind. He saw you first. You were standing still, hands running up and down the many cornstalks with your eyes closed. You were quiet and small, an oddity to him. Usually, he would attack without think but he felt no urge to. You weren’t running so he wouldn’t give chase. Eventually, you saw him too, a large shadow standing amongst the corn. To say you were scared was an understatement but your feet never moved. Something about him made you stay put, he never moved and never tore his eyes away from you. After a moment you offered him a very soft, “Hey there.” He had never heard such a gentle sound before. And it took him a moment to realize that that sound was directed at him. He raised a shaky hand and pointed awkwardly to his chest. You breathed out a laugh and nodded your head slowly, afraid that sudden movement would trigger him to attack. “Y-yeah. you.” He blinked confused.

You would visit him more often after that and with each encounter, he would take you deeper and deeper into the corn until one day you reached the center. The Thompson House loomed over the field but he leads you away from the building, instead taking you to a large harvester. Max hated the house because it reminded him of the darkroom and he refused to get close to it.

You told him your name, pointing like he did to your chest. His eyes flickered between your hand and your face. You could practically see the gears turning over in his head. It was difficult for him to understand let alone try to mimic you but eventually, with enough patience and time, he did. He said your name through a gargled throat and lips that didn’t seem to work all that well. It barely even sounded English regardless you could have cried with joy when he called you. “Well done.” You praised and clapped your hands lightly. Max saw your face twist into an expression he had never seen before. You were smiling and it was infectious. He saw the light in your eyes and he felt his own face morph to copy yours.

After a while, Max tried telling you his name. He’d point at himself and would moan “MMm”. You would listen attentively, feeling pride well up in your chest. “SSs” he would hiss like a snake. After some guessing, you managed to say his name. Max. He was just trying to remember the name he always heard the shadows under the door say. Yet you were applauding him and encouraging him and for once he felt happy. It was nice. You were nice.

Max is terrified of the dark hence why the Coldwind farm domains are always lit in the haze of yellow light. When the Entity wants to punish Max for a poor job it would remove the moon from his place. The shadows would grow and Max would be consumed with the memories of the damned hole in the wall. So dark. So smelly. He can’t breathe. It hurts so much. You were with him once when he was being punished. He was curled up in a ball, heaving and moaning with building fear and anxiety. You watched him drown in his own mind and you knew you had to move quickly if you wanted to help him. You walked over to him and very gently touched him. He snapped his silver shining eyes to you and, after composing yourself, you offered your smile. “You want to,” you put both your hands together and placed them next to your cheek. “Sleep?” He looked at you and you felt him search you for something. A solution? Comfort? Whatever he wanted you were more than willing to give it all to him.

You sat down next to him and patted your leg. This was the closest you had ever been to the man and it was both a terrifying and thrilling experience. He eyed you warily half expecting some kind of joke or rejection but all you did was wait, your arms open and your expression understanding and warm. He went to you and placed his head on your lap. You lowered your hand and began to lightly run your fingers over his head. He whimpered and clung to you, his hand trekking up your thigh before gripping you as tightly as he could. It was like he was lost at sea and if he were to mistakenly let go of you he would sink and drown. It hurt but you bared it. You shushed him and more forcibly ran your fingers through his coarse hair, letting him know through physical contact that you were with him and that you would stay with him. Suddenly it wasn’t so bad anymore. Max suddenly felt better. If he closed his eyes he could feel you, the hum in your chest and the warmth in your body. You were secure and offered him rest within that shrinking darkness.

#ask #dbd the hillbilly #max thompson jr.#dbd imagines #dbd headcanons #max is literally baby and i will kill for him

63 notes · View notes

theericardo · 4 years ago

Text

*Part 1: “Something Wicca This Way Comes... Again” *WRITTEN BY: PAUL (ME) *DIRECTED BY: ALYSSA MILANO *SEASON 1, EPISODE 01

Staring

· Alyssa Milano as Phoebe Halliwell

· Rose McGowan as Paige Matthews Mitchell

· with Holly Marie Combs Ryan as Piper Halliwell

· and Shannen Doherty as Prue Halliwell

Co – Staring

· Brian Krause as Leo Wyatt

· Jacob Tremblay as Wyatt Halliwell

· Sunny Suljic as Chris Halliwell

· Nicolas Bechtel as Rafael Vázquez

Recurring

· Brooklynn Prince as Melinda Halliwell

· Alex Black as Tyler Michaels

· Dafne Keen as Coop Halliwell

· Ivan Sergei as Henry Michell

· Iain Armitage as Henry Michell, Jr.

· Dafne Keen as Hayley Michell

· Nicholas Hamilton as Jesse Housley

CHARMED THEME SONG MUSIC

[Scene: September 22nd, 2017 - 7:30 a.m. Starts with Piper getting the kids ready for school]

Piper: "Wyatt honey, did you wake up Chris and Melinda?”

Wyatt: “Why is it my job to do so?” “Chris doesn’t like me, and whatever Chris does and says, Melinda follows suit.”

(Leo rushes through before the portal for Magic School opens.)

Leo: “Wyatt, can do what your mom says, please?”

Wyatt: “Whatever, dude!”

(Wyatt orbs out the dining room.)

Piper: “I swear he gets that from you, Leo.”

Leo: “Oh really?”

Piper: “Yes!”

(The portal opens for magic school.)

Leo: “This is the first day of magic school being open since regaining it from evil,” “I don’t want to be late.”

(Leo and Piper give each other a distinctive stare.)

(Leo sprints towards the portal.)

Piper: “We are not done mister!”

(Chris and Melinda makes their way downstairs.)

Chris: “Mom, when do I get to move out of the room with Wyatt,” “He really pushing my buttons.”

Piper: “The last of the renovations should be finished whenever you get home.”

[Scene: 8:10 am – Phoebe at The Bay Mirror]

(Phone rings.)

Tyler: “Bay Manor, Tyler Michaels speaking.” “Looking for Phoebe Halliwell, please hold.”

(Tyler transfer the call to Phoebe.)

Phoebe: “Hello, Phoebe speaking.”

(Coop beams in.)

Phoebe: “Yes, I would like to meet you on Monday following my upcoming novel.”

Coop: whispers “Phoebe, you got a doctor appointment that day.”

Phoebe: “Oh shoot, Tyler, can you call them back to reschedule my interview for me please?”

Tyler: “Sure, Ms. Halliwell.”

Phoebe: “I still have to get ready for delivery next month, then plan the blessing…”

(Coop walks over to comfy Phoebe.)

Coop: “Just relax, Phoebe.”

Phoebe: “I will Coop, I will.”

[Scene: 8:56 am – Back at the Manor with Piper]

(The kids are at school and the renovators have arrived and have been working for 56 minutes)

Construction Worker #1: “Ms. Halliwell, we seem to come across a problem.” “We tried to knock down the shelves in the space you are converting into a bedroom…”

Piper: “Well, let me take a look at it.”

(Piper and the other construction worker walked over to the space were shelves.)

(The other construction worker is knocked out.)

Piper: “Omg, what the hell happened?”

Construction Worker: “Jonathan?”

(Piper and The Construction worker aids Jonathan.)

Construction Worker: “Sorry Ms. Halliwell, we can’t finish constru- “

(Piper freezes both construction workers.)

Piper: “If you can’t, I will.”

(Piper, tries to blow the shelves, but it did not work.)

Piper: “This wall is going come down one way or another.”

(With full force, Piper blow the shelves down, revealing a book.)

(She wipes the dust off the cover.)

Piper: “The Book of Damned?”

(Puzzled, Piper placed The Book of Damned in the room over and rushed back into the room with the construction workers.)

(Piper unfreezes the construction workers.)

Construction Worker: “-ction here…, wow, Ms. Halliwell, how did you do that?”

Piper: “Well you know, with a little elbow grease, and this sledgehammer.” “Maybe you guys should do some more lifting.”

Construction Worker: “Well we will finish the rest before the end of today Ms. Halliwell.”

Piper: “Ha-ha, Great!” “I will be around the house if you need me.”

[Scene: 9:33 am – At Paige and Henry’s apartment]

Henry: “Paige, I’m headed to work.” “I love you.”

Paige: “I love you too.”

Henry: “Thank you for breakfast.”

Paige: “You are welcome.”

(Paige climbs back into bed.)

Paige: “The twins are at school, Henry has gone it work, and I can get some more shut-eye.”

(Paige’s phone starts to ring.)

Paige: using telekinesis orbing “Silence!”

*” Paige” *

(Piper Calling Paige.)

*” Paige Matthews, get your butt here pronto!” *

Paige: “Fine!”

(Paige Orbs to the Manor.)

Paige: “Hey honey, how may I help you?”

(Piper and Paige examines The Book of Damned.)

(They flip through the book.)

Piper: “To remove someone from time and space?”

Paige: “To vanquished someone’s sprit?”

Piper and Paige: “To revert a being’s powers?”

(Piper hands the book to Paige.)

Piper: “Here you take it.” “Take it home with you”

(Paige looks at Piper puzzled.)

Paige: “Umm, no, thank you.”

Piper: “Wyatt has been kind of rebellious with his magic, so I do not need him getting any ideas.”

Paige: “Honey, yea-no, neither one of us knows what mojo comes along with that book, so peace out!”

(Paige orbs out)

Piper: “Uh, FINE!”

[Scene: 11:45 am – At the doctors with Phoebe and Coop]

Doctor: “Mr. and Ms. Halliwell, you are 38 weeks.” “You can pop any day now.”

Phoebe: “Any day!?” “I thought I had another month or at least a few more weeks.”

Coop: “Relax Phoebe, everything is prepared back at the condo.”

Phoebe: sighs “You are right.” “Thank you, Dr. Vera.” “Coop let’s go.”

Coop: Phoebe, are you ok?”

Phoebe: “Yes I’m fine, I just got to get to condo and summon Grams and let her know”

[Scene: 12:45 pm – Wyatt during lunch period at Frank Lanterman School]

(Wyatt is trying to look for somewhere to sit.)

(Being a freshman and transferring schools, he does not know anyone.)

(Jesse wraps his arms around Wyatt)

Jesse: “Aye yo Wyatt, come sit over here with us

(Jesse Housley, senior, is the caption of the Lacrosse team)

Wyatt: “Umm sure, I guess.”

(Jesse snatches Wyatt’s lunch tray and dumps it on him)

Jesse: “Ha, you really think I like you like that preppy, now get lost!”

(Wyatt storms off into the bathroom.)

Wyatt: “I hate it here!” “I’m sick of school!” “I’m sick of life!” “I’m sick of people!” “Ahh!!”

(The bathroom stalls start to rumble.)

Rafael: “Wyatt?” “Are you ok?”

Wyatt: “What do you want?”

Rafael: “I’m just checking up on you; that’s all.” “I have a change of clothes for you.”

(Rafael walks into the bathroom and hands Wyatt the set of clothes.)

Wyatt: “Thank you…?”

Rafael: “Rafael, Rafael Vázquez”

Wyatt: “Wyatt,” tucks hair behind his ear “Wyatt Halliwell.” “Thank you for the clothes, Rafael. “I got some business take care of.”

(Wyatt dashes out of the bathroom straight back to the lunchroom.)

(He approaches the table where Jesse and his teammates are sitting.)

Wyatt: “Hey, Jesse.”

Jesse: “Back again for more preppy?”

Wyatt: “No, but you are- “

(With his hands behind his back, Wyatt orbs a lunch tray into his hand and thumps it on Jesse’s head.)

Jesse: “Ahh! I’m going to get you for this preppy!”

(Jesse grabs the nearest lunch tray and throws it at Wyatt but misses, hitting another student.)

Female Student: “Bitch!”

(The student throws her try back at Jesse but misses him, hitting a different student.)

Another student: “FOOD FIGHT!”

(Food goes flying everywhere.)

(Wyatt crawls under a table, laughing.)

(As Wyatt continues crawling, he bumps into the Vice Principal.)

The Vice Principal: “Halliwell, what are you d- “

(A lump of mashed potatoes come flying, hitting the Vice Principal right in the face.)

The Vice Principal: spits out the mashed potatoes “oing on the floor?”

[Scene: 2:45 pm – The Manor with Piper]

(The Construction Workers are finished plastering and painting the walls and moving the furniture, giving Wyatt and Chris their own room.)

(Piper and Wyatt walks in from her picking him up from school.)

Piper: “Suspended for 2 days for starting a food fight?!” “Wyatt, what has gotten into you?

Wyatt: “Why are you concerned all of a sudden?”

Piper: “Did you use magic?”

Wyatt: “Yea, why?”

Piper: “Mister, I cannot deal with you now.” “Go up to your room, and I will be telling your father as soon as he comes back from magic school.”

Wyatt: “Whatever!”

(Wyatt orbs up to his room and slams the door.)

Piper: “If I put my hands on him... ooO!”

[Scene: 5:30 pm – Split screen between Phoebe and Paige’s places while they are on the phone with each other]

(Paige is standing over the stove and cooking dinner while Henry Jr and Hayley, Paige and Henry Sr.’s twins, are finishing up homework.)

(Phoebe is stretched out with Coop giving her a food massage.)

Phoebe: “The Book of Damned?” “Never heard of it.”

Paige: “Me either.” “I even asked them up there, and they never heard of it either.”

Henry Jr.: “Mom, what’s for dinner?”

Paige: “Honey, we are having Spaghetti with Garlic bread.”

Phoebe: “So where is the book now?”

Paige: “I left it with Piper.” “I got a bad mojo from it.”

Phoebe: “Maybe I can get a Premonition off of it.”

(Phoebe scenes Paige’s emotions over the phone)

Phoebe: “Oh honey, I can feel your worry about that book.” “Don’t let it get to you.”

Paige: “Stop it!”

Phoebe: “What?” “I can’t help that my powers are expanding.”

(They both share a laugh.)

[Scene: 6:30 pm – Back at the Manor with Piper, Leo, and the kids]

Piper: “Leo, I’m headed to P3.” “Can you please keep the kids out of the attic.” “There is a book that the construction workers and I found.” “I don’t need Wyatt to get a hold of it.” “Also, talk to your son before I backhand him, please.”

Leo: “Sure honey.”

Piper: “Love you.” kisses Leo

Leo: “Love you too.”

(Piper heads out the Manor door.)

[Scene: 7:00 pm – Still at the Manor Leo and the kids in the Conservatory]

(Leo is helping the kid with their homework while catching up with them about their day.)

Leo: “So Wyatt, how was school today?”

Wyatt: “Wel – “

Chris: “Well, I signed up to try out for the soccer team – “

Wyatt: “CHRIS, NOBODY IS TALKING TO YOU!” SO SHUT IT!”

Leo: “Hey Wyatt, that is not how you talk to your brother.”

(Wyatt looks at Leo and blinks, orbing him out the Manor to an ally near P3.)

(Chris pins Wyatt to the wall using Telekinesis)

Chris: “Where did you orb dad!?”

Wyatt: “I’m not telling you!”

Chris: “WHERE IS HE!”

Melinda: “Guys, st – “

Chris and Wyatt: “STAY OUT OF THIS MELINDA!”

(Melinda stayed quiet, worried about where is their dad).

[Scene: 7:37 pm – In the back ally of P3 with Leo was orbed]

(Leo rushes into P3, looking for Piper.)

Leo: “Excuse me.” “Pardon me” “Excuse me.” “Piper, Piper.”

Piper: “Leo, what are you doing here?”

Leo: “The kids started bickering then they stared using magic.”

Piper: “On hell no.” “Steve, watch the club.” “I got a family emergency.

(Piper and Leo rush to the car.)

(Mid-way back Piper calls Phoebe and Paige to meet them at the Manor.)

[Scene: Cuts back to the manor]

Wyatt: *Telekinetic Orbing * “LAMP!”

Chris: Telekinetic Orbing “SHADDER!”

(Wyatt pins to Chris to the wall.)

Chris: “Are you mad because I didn’t like sharing a room with you?” “Or because mom and dad favor me more?”

Wyatt: “Shut up!”

Chris: “Or that you are gay?”

Wyatt: “Shut up!” “Shut up!” Shut up!”

(Wyatt chokes Chris using Telekinesis.)

(Chris eyes roll to the back of his head, and then he collapses.)

Wyatt: “Shit, Shit, Shit!” ‘I think I killed him!”

(Panicking, Wyatt orbs Chris and Melinda to the attic.)

(He grabs the first book, which happens to be The Book of Damned)

(He flips through the book.)

Wyatt: “The resurrect thou dead, perfect.”

“From the angles in the sky,”

“To the demons from below,”

“Resurrect thou from thou dead.”

(The Manor rumbles and lights flashes.)

(As Piper and Leo walk into the attic while Paige orbs in with Phoebe.)

(Paige rushes over to Chris and checks his pulse.)

Paige: “He’s alive.”

(Paige heals Chris.)

Piper: “Wyatt Matthew Halliwell, what in the hell have you done this time?”

Wyatt: “I – I thought I had killed Chris.” “So, I used magic to bring him back alive.”

Chris: “I wasn’t dead dummy.”

(Piper walks over to aid Chris.)

Piper: “Honey, are you ok?”

Chris: “Yea, ask the curly-haired gay son over there.”

(Everyone zooms into Wyatt in shock.)

Piper: “So, this is how all of this started?”

Melinda: “Well, I figured out Wyatt was gay because I used my powers.” “After I found out, I shared it with Chris, which lead him to do some snooping and he found gay romance novels.”

Piper: “Thank you Melinda.” “Leo, I think it’s time for Melinda to go to bed.”

(Leo escorts Melinda to bath, then to bed.)

[Scene: 8:10 pm – In the living room of the Manor]

(Piper, Paige, Phoebe, and Leo are all to processing all that has happened.)

(The kids are all in their rooms.)

Piper: “I need a drink.”

Paige: “Oh honey just take deep breaths.”

(*Phoebe senses Piper’s emotions *)

Phoebe: “Piper I know you’re angry and confused about Wyatt.” “All I can say is be there for him.” “When I sensed his emotions a few weeks back, he waas hurt, afraid of what you would say.” “What both of his parents would say.”

Piper:

Leo: “Paige, you knew too?”

Paige: “Duhh, my gaydar went off long ago.”

Piper: “What are we going to do with Wyatt usi – “

(Creeps sounds from the stairs.)

(Piper, Paige, Phoebe, and Leo turns around to see Prue.)

Phoebe: “Ok, I know I’ve been seeing stuff, but do you all see what I see?”

Piper, Paige, and Phoebe: “Prue?”

Prue: “Yea, I’m Prue” “Who the hell are you?”

Piper: “We are your sisters.”

Prue: “Sisters?” “I don’t have any sisters.”

(Prue was standing there, covered in dust with the same outfit she died in.)

(Prue uses her Telekinesis to cause a Telekinetic Combustion, barely missing Phoebe, hitting the chandelier.)

Paige: “Home!” remote orbing on Phoebe

Piper: “What the hell wrong with you, Prue!?”

(Piper tries to freeze Prue.)

Prue: “Nice party trick.”

(With an evil smirk on her face, Prue astral teleports out the Manor.)

[Scene: 9:45 pm]

(Piper asks Wyatt and Chris to Orb Leo and Melinda to Magic school for safety.)

(Paige orbs herself and Piper to Phoebe’s Condo.)

Paige: “I told you that you that book was no good, Piper.”

Piper: “Yea, you did, don’t rub it in.”

Phoebe: “Did you bring the book?”

Piper: “Yes, why?”

Phoebe: “I’m trying to get a Premonition off of it.”

(Piper and Paige hold onto Phoebe’s shoulders.)

(*in the premonition * Prue in the underworld, sitting on a throne with the source and two other people.)

(flashes time setting changes to Salem Witch times - a fair skinned African woman, possibly a teenager, seen with The Book of Damned.)

(flashes time changes, still in Salem Witch times – Same women, slighter older appearance, is with Melinda Halliwell and The Book of Damned, once again.)

(flashes she turns around and faces the sisters, “GET OUT, NOW!”)

(premonition ends).

Piper: “Well we know where Prue is headed, but why?”

Paige: “Yea, but who the hell was that curly- haired woman?”

Phoebe: “And why was she with Melinda Warren?”

Paige: “Let’s meet the others at Magic School.”

(Paige orbs out with Piper and Phoebe.)

[Scene: Prue in the underworld]

(Prue astral teleports into the underworld.)

Demon: “Ma’am who the hell are you?

(Prue stares at the demon, causing him to explode and to be vanquished.)

Prue: “I’m the new owner of this hellhole.”

THE END

#charmed #prue halliwell #piper halliwell #phoebe halliwell #paige matthews #wicca

3 notes · View notes

stahlop · 5 years ago

Text

Once Upon a Time 2x15 “The Queen is Dead” Review

Reviews 1x01 1x02 1x03 1x04 1x05 1x06 1x07 1x08 1x09 1x10 1x11 1x12 1x13 1x14 1x15 1x16 1x17 1x18 1x19 1x20 1x21 1x22 2x01 2x02 2x03 2x04 2x05 2x06 2x07 2x08 2x09 2x10 2x11 2x12 2x13 2x14

Well, Cora has certainly had her hands in the pot for a very long time. We find out that she not only killed Snow’s mother, but also orchestrated young Regina saving young Snow (which young Regina had totally called her out on in The Stable Boy and Cora had denied). And Mary Margaret has terrible birthdays. Too many people die on them. And we get confirmation that Neal has been alive for a couple hundred years, and the fact that he knows Hook and how to steer his ship, I think Neal has definitely been in Neverland for awhile. And Neal has a fiance, so thank goodness we’re not going to go down the Neal/Emma train that Gold was so into. Ew!

Summary: Mary Margaret and David rush to find Gold’s dagger before Cora and Regina find it. Hook makes his way to New York and manages to find Gold and stab him with poison. In the Enchanted Forest, Snow’s birthday celebration is marred by her mother’s sudden illness and Snow goes to great lengths to try and save her.

Opening: Library and Clock Tower

New Characters:

The Queen: She’s never given a name in this episode, maybe we’ll find out in the future. She’s a benevolent queen. She doesn’t believe they are any better than anyone else in the kingdom just because they’re royalty. Something she has to teach young Snow, when she becomes a little brat. It’s nice to see where Snow gets her heart from. She has a mother that not only teaches her what is right and wrong behavior, but also doesn’t let Snow get away with acting like most royalty would. The queen tells Snow that when they crown her with the tiara on her birthday, it will represent that she always holds goodness in her heart. They all look in the mirror and the the queen has some sort of attack, but tries to convince Snow that she is fine. She continues to tell Snow she’ll be fine, but then she starts coughing up blood, and Snow knows she won’t be fine. After Snow goes to see the Blue Fairy, she tells her mother she couldn’t save her because she wouldn’t take another life. The queen is visibly relieved to hear that Snow didn’t do something dark. She tells Snow that it wasn’t fear about killing someone else, it was strength. She’s very proud of her. Snow begs her to not to leave, but the queen says she’ll always be with her if there is goodness in her heart. And then she dies. That escalated very quickly, whatever she was poisoned with worked really fast, Leopold couldn’t even get home to see her before she died.

Character Observations:

Snow/Mary Margaret: Basically, we get to see that Snow was a brat at one point, and her mother taught her about goodness and treating people with respect, whether they were royals or servants. Snow is tested when her mother is dying by Cora pretending to be the Blue Fairy. She gives her a candle that would save her mother, but it would require killing someone else in the process. Had Snow not been taught goodness from her mother, she may have just killed a random peasant, but instead, she comes to terms with the fact that her mother’s life is no more important than anyone else's. Snow thinks she couldn’t do it out of fear, but her mother tells her it took strength. And then her mother dies and Snow mourns. The funeral is being held on the day that was supposed to be Snow’s birthday celebration (that sucks, my grandfather was buried on my mom’s birthday (her father) as it was the only day we could get the rabbi, so I get Snow’s feelings on this). Johanna gives her a pep talk about how the kingdom will get their strength from her, and Snow questions where she’ll find her strength now that her mother has died. Johanna lets her know she’ll still get it from her mother. Snow puts on a brave face for the funeral and leads her kingdom for the first time.

Mary Margaret is not having a good day. It’s her birthday and she does not like to celebrate her birthday. David tries to play it off like he had no idea it was her birthday but she’s not buying it. She finds a present that someone left for her. It’s her tiara and it’s from her old servant Johanna. Mary Margaret goes off to find her. She finds her gardening behind her house and they reunite. They bond over their shared grief of missing Mary Margaret’s mother. It’s almost like Snow is at least getting her surrogate mother back. They hear something in the woods, and wouldn’t you know, Cora and Regina just happen to be digging, looking for the dagger and talking about it, right behind Johanna’s house. Mary Margaret overhears them and specifically that Cora will make the Dark One kill anyone Regina likes. Mary Margaret goes to tell David (who she finds knocked because of Hook), and tells him what she overheard. Mary Margaret thinks she can talk to Regina and put some doubt about Cora in her mind. Regina meets Mary Margaret at Granny’s and she thinks Mary Margaret asked her to come to tell her about Henry. Mary Margaret comes straight out and tells her she knows all about Cora and the dagger. Regina tries to say what she does is her business, but Mary Margaret basically tells her that a war is about to happen and she needs to choose the side of good. Regina says she’s always been good; Mary Margaret added the evil part. Mary Margaret tells her what she’s doing isn’t good and questions why she’d go back to being like this after working to change. Regina says it got her nowhere and accused of murder. Regina tells her to stay out of her way. Mary Margaret reminds her that Cora doesn’t care about Henry, just about power, and she doesn’t care about Regina. Regina asks what Mary Margaret would know about mothers. Ugh! Poor Mary Margaret. Her mother died when she was young and then she never got to be a mother to Emma. Mary Margaret, David, and Mother Superior try to use fairy magic to break into Gold’s store, presumably to see if they can find the dagger, but he’s protected it and Mother Superior can’t get in with her magic. Mary Margaret makes reference to using dark magic like before, but Mother Superior has no idea what she’s talking about. Luckily, Emma calls David with the location of the dagger right at that moment. Mary Margaret and David find it attached to one of the hands on the clock tower and they are happy that they can now control the Dark One, but Cora and Regina show up to fight for the dagger. Mary Margaret practically rubs it in Regina’s face that good has won like usual, which, of course, means evil is about to triumph. Because Cora poufs Johanna in and Regina takes her heart. Johanna begs Mary Margaret not to give them what they want, but Mary Margaret can’t bear to have another mother figure die when she can help her. But then Cora says something that makes Mary Margaret realize that Cora was pretending to be the Blue Fairy when she was a girl. Mary Margaret wonders if her mother was actually sick, and Cora says she actually was, but Mary Margaret realizes Cora is the cause for everything. Cora then mocks Mary Margaret about not using the candle, and Mary Margaret wants to know why Cora did all this to her. Simply put, Cora wanted to make Regina queen. It’s nothing against Mary Margaret personally. The look Mary Margaret gives Regina at this point is really interesting. Like, Mary Margaret knows how awful Cora is by reputation, but she’s never realized the extent Cora went to put her daughter on the throne. She actually looks like she feels sorry for Regina at this moment. Cora puts more salt in the wound by saying if she doesn’t give up the dagger she’ll lose another connection to her mother. David tries to convince her that they’ll still win even if Cora has the dagger. Johanna tells Mary Margaret to let her go, but watching Johanna’s reaction when Regina squeezes her heart is too much to bear. Cora is still using her mother against her and it’s getting to be too much for Mary Margaret. She throws the dagger down for Cora and is hysterically crying at this point. Regina puts Johanna’s heart back and as they go to hug Cora throws her out the clock tower. Regina makes a comment about what good gets you before she and Cora pouf away. If I was Mary Margaret I’d probably be catatonic by this point. Too many bad things have befallen her. She is hysterically crying with David trying to figure out how to care for his grief-stricken wife. Mary Margaret and David bury Johanna and Mary Margaret is blaming herself and taking stock of the situation. Following goodness has cost too many lives. She runs through all the times she did the ‘right’ thing and what it cost them in the end. David reminds her that they still have time to get the dagger before Gold gets back to town and carry out justice, but Mary Margaret doesn’t want justice. Mary Margaret says they’re always trying to get others to change, but maybe she needs to change instead. She’s going to kill Cora!

Past Cora/Cora: And speaking of Cora, we all thought she was a real piece of work in previous episodes but she’s really pulling no punches in this one. Like What The Fuck! She purposely poisoned Snow’s mother, posed as the Blue Fairy to get Snow to doubt herself, and caused Snow’s horse to spook, all in hopes of making Regina queen. I’m surprised she didn’t kill off Henry, Sr, to try and marry the king herself. She’s closer to his age than Regina was. Either way, Cora seems to have a personal vendetta against Snow’s mother. This does not seem like a random royal that Cora decided to target to make Regina the eventual queen. Especially with her comment about Snow finding out what it's like to be the miller’s daughter and then saying she’s going to turn Snow’s heart black as coal and ruin the queen’s legacy. That is some pure rage right there.

Cora will do anything to get the Dark One dagger. She may have been playing the doting mother to Regina in the past few episodes, but she’s showing her true colors in this one. She and Regina discover that the location of the dagger is not where the map says it is. Cora says she can find it, it’ll just take a little longer. Cora and Regina manage to find it right when Mary Margaret and David find it in the clock tower. Cora conjures up Johanna as incentive for Mary Margaret to give her the dagger. Cora lets Mary Margaret know that it’s not good or evil that wins, but who has the power. David attempts to shoot Cora, but she magics his gun away (never bring a gun to a witch fight). Cora tells Mary Margaret to surrender the dagger because she’ll follow her mother’s advice at all cost since all she ever wanted was for her to be good. Mary Margaret realizes that’s what she said to the Blue Fairy and that the Blue Fairy was actually Cora. Cora does not deny it. In fact, she revels in this secret finally coming to light. All she wanted was for her daughter to be queen, and she’d do anything to make sure that happened. Cora uses manipulation to eventually get Mary Margaret to give up the dagger (using her mother and Johanna’s connection to her), and then Cora kills Johanna anyway, because she simply doesn’t care about anyone but herself. She and Regina pouf away. At Regina’s office, Regina is upset that Cora never told her what she did to make her queen. I mean, to be fair, young Regina would’ve been horrified to find out what her mother did, and since Regina banished her to Wonderland before the wedding, there was never really a chance for her to find out. Cora just brushes it off. She knows now. Regina also realizes that Cora set up Snow so that Regina would rescue her. Cora wonders what this means to Regina, now that she knows. Regina says it means Cora won, so what does she need the dagger for? Cora says she’s still all about helping Regina get Henry, and that by the time Gold returns, Mary Margaret, David, Emma will be a distant memory (what does that mean?). Cora strokes the dagger lovingly, which does not go unnoticed by Regina.

Regina: She is blindly following her mother which is really bad. I know part of it is that she’s finally feeling like her mother is taking an interest in her and not just using her for her own agenda, but by the end she’s starting to wonder if she’s wrong about that. We start with Regina digging where Hook told them the dagger would be. Regina doesn’t seem to be able to find it and Cora immediately wonders if Regina read the map right. They determine that Hook gave them the wrong location. Regina is frustrated but Cora says she can figure it out given time. Regina goes to meet Mary Margaret and assumes it’s about Henry. It’s not. Mary Margaret comes right out and tells her she knows she’s working with Cora and that they’re looking for the dagger. Regina immediately gets defensive and tells Mary Margaret what she does is her business. Mary Margaret tells her she’s willing to give her another chance to fight for the side of good. Regina is not having this conversation again. She thinks maybe she is good and it’s because of Mary Margaret that she’s known as evil, since she apparently added that to her name. Mary Margaret says the things Regina does are not good. Regina’s pissed because she tried to change, but all it got her was a bunch of people who were certain she couldn’t. She tells Mary Margaret to stay out of her way. Mary Margaret tries once more by telling Regina that listening to Cora is a mistake. Cora doesn’t care about Henry, just power and Regina says that power is how you get things. Mary Margaret says that Cora doesn’t care about Regina and Regina asks her what she knows about mothers. Way harsh, Regina. Cora and Regina show up at the clock tower at the same time Mary Margaret and David find the dagger. Regina follows her mother’s orders, taking Johanna’s heart so Mary Margaret will give up the dagger. When she finds out that Cora poisoned Mary Margaret’s mother and did it all to make her queen, the expression on her face is heartbreaking. You can see that she is struggling to come to terms with what her mother did while still maintaining the facade of being united with her mother. But she is shocked by this new information. The lengths her mother went through to make her queen. She later confronts her about this in her office. Notice how Cora takes the position of power by sitting at the desk. Regina figures out that Cora was also responsible for Snow’s horse spooking, setting her whole future trajectory (remember, she had asked her if she had anything to do with it in The Stable Boy and Cora had denied it). Regina says she won by making her queen, since that was what Cora always wanted for her. So what will having the dagger accomplish, especially since David and Mary Margaret now know they have it and they can’t make Gold kill everyone without blame? Cora basically says to trust her as she strokes the dagger, and Regina’s face definitely conveys that maybe Mary Margaret was right and Cora doesn’t care for her or Henry.

Emma/Neal/Gold: She and Gold are keeping their distance from Henry and Neal, as they are both mad at each of them. Emma is beating herself up over lying to Henry about Neal. Gold is confident that Henry will forgive her. Gold wants Emma to convince Neal to come back to Storybrooke with them. She says she already gave him his favor, but he says she’ll do it for Henry because he’ll want to get to know his father (and so he doesn’t run away to NYC like he did to Boston to find her). Emma says Henry will be happy with Neal until he lets Henry down, and she knows he will. Then he’ll understand that she lied to protect him. Gold compares her to Regina. Um, no. Regina lied to protect herself. She made Henry think he was crazy and insane. That is not what Emma is doing. Emma doesn’t feel like this is what she is doing either. Gold says she lied to protect herself. He says she wants a second chance with Neal, and no, ew, no. Emma cannot have carefully constructed these walls to want to get back with the guy who framed her and put her in jail. I don’t care what his reasoning was. Emma wants to know why Gold would think she’d want to get back together with Neal, and he says it’s the look on her face. Are we seeing the same look? I’m seeing a ‘I wouldn’t let that guy touch me again with a 10 foot pole look’, but apparently Gold is seeing, ‘How did you guess I secretly still desire my ex.’ Henry and Neal come back out with pizza and Emma asks Henry if he likes it, and he says he does, because it doesn’t lie. And poor Emma’s face just falls. Emma subtly talks to Neal about coming back to Storybrooke. Like how was Neal expecting this to work out? Henry has school and a family in Storybrooke. He can’t just stay in New York. Emma thinks from Neal’s apartment that he doesn’t have much going on, but Neal says looks can be deceiving. He tries to tell her something, but gets interrupted by Henry wanting to go on the subway. Neal and Henry go back up to the apartment to get Henry’s camera while Emma and Gold wait down by the buzzers, and Hook decides to attack right at that moment, stabbing Gold with his hook. While Hook villain monologues to Gold, Emma hits him on the head with the trash can. Neal comes down concerned and Emma tells him an old enemy found them. Neal recognizes Hook which surprises Emma. Neal gets Gold up to his apartment while Emma locks Hook up in a storage closet (should I be keeping a tally of how many times Hook has been bested since meeting Emma?). Emma says he had a map on him which means he sailed his ship into NY. She tells Neal it was cloaked when he wonders how he was able to do that. Henry is worried about Gold and goes to ask him if he’s alright (um, no, he just got a hook in the chest), but Gold goes all feral on him and blames him for the whole thing. Is Gold blaming him for coming back for his camera right then, or for bringing them to NYC in the first place? Because Hook would have waited until they got back and attacked him regardless. Neal wants to take Gold to the ER but Gold has figured out there was poison from another realm on Hook’s hook and he needs to get back to Storybrooke because there’s magic there. Neal suggests driving there, but Gold needs to get there fast, so he says they need to take the Jolly Roger. Emma doesn’t know how they’ll do that without a captain, but Neal says he can sail it. Gold realizes what that means, but Emma is still questioning how he knows how to sail a pirate ship. Emma wants to know how Neal knows Hook. Long story short, our world wasn’t his first and he’d be a couple hundred years old if he’d come straight here. Emma is trying to process the information that not only is Henry’s father from the Enchanted Forest, but is also a couple hundred years old. Emma’s phone finally charges back up and she sees texts from Mary Margaret and David. Emma tells Gold that Cora is after his dagger, and he doesn’t want to give up the location, but she emphasizes that they’re family now, so he needs to trust them. Neal and Emma go to get the car that will take them to the ship. Emma is surprised that Neal is doing so much for Gold, but Neal says there’s a difference between running from someone and watching them die. He still doesn’t think reconciliation is possible. They get to a car and Emma hopes he isn’t going to hotwire it like back in the day, but he says it belongs to a friend. Neal wants to quickly get back to the conversation they were having before (and Emma seems a little nervous about it, like maybe he’s going to talk about getting back together), but now they’re interrupted by the person who owns the car and who is also Neal’s fiance, Tamara. Emma tries to keep a neutral face, but you can see there’s something else going on behind the mask she puts up. I’m hoping it’s relief that Neal won’t try to get back with her. I’ll even be happy with shock that Neal cleaned his life up enough that he found a woman willing to look over his conniving ways. I might be vomiting if it’s sadness that she can’t get back together with Neal.

Questions:

What seems more plausible: Hook lied about the location of the dagger before he knew Cora was going to betray him, or Gold hid it again before he left town because Belle could no longer protect it in her amnesiac state?

Why is Regina digging to find the dagger? Can’t she or Cora just use magic to get it out of the ground (if it had been there)?

Why hasn’t Emma filled in the pieces to Henry about Neal? He already knows she was in jail and that he was born there. Has Henry not figured out that Emma and Neal were separated right before she went to jail? Shouldn’t Emma tell him why she went to jail in the first place? Or is she doing the ‘noble’ thing and letting Henry make his own judgements about Neal?

Why is the queen’s bedroom at the end of a large hallway with no doors?

How is the cloaking magic on the Jolly Roger still working outside of Storybrooke?

We know that the Blue Fairy was Cora in disguise, but was Cora disguised as Johanna as well? How else would Cora know to pretend to be the Blue Fairy if she hadn’t put the idea in Snow’s head?

What would happen to the Gold’s power if he died of natural causes?

Where did Johanna come from in the scene where the queen dies? There is no one next to Snow and then Johanna is right there in the next scene.

Why did they hold the queen’s funeral before the king came home? Who made the arrangements?

Observations:

The flowers Johanna is planting and that Snow leaves on her mother’s body are snowdrops.

When Johanna calls Mary Margaret, Snow, she tells her she goes by Mary Margaret in Storybrooke.

Snow was born during the harshest winter, hence why she was named Snow.

I know that the fashions in the Enchanted Forest aren’t equivalent to the ones on Earth, but the queen is wearing a dress that is more Dark Ages, and Snow’s big fluffy skirt is more Restoration, which is a good 300-400 years apart.

The queen never makes Snow apologize to Johanna.

Snow was so named because she was born in the harshest winter.

Regina is doing all the digging in the forest, Cora is apparently just supervising.

Henry has gone back to calling Emma by her name instead of mom.

Well, Neal has finally confirmed that he went to another realm first (most likely Neverland), and that he’d be a few hundred years old if he had (you’re still a few hundred years old technically). Which also means that Rumplestiltskin and Hook are a few hundred years old as well.

Regina’s horse is named Rociante which is the name of the horse in the novel Don Quixote.

Timeline Issues:

How did it become winter already? We established in Child of the Moon that it was most likely May (based on when sunset was). Into the Deep and Queen of Hearts both took place a few days after that. The Cricket Game was maybe a week later, so we’re into June now. The Outsider was also maybe a week later with In the Name of the Brother, Tiny, and Manhattan all taking place within a day or two. At the most, we could possibly be in July. But Johanna makes reference to Snow being born in the harshest winter and it’s currently Mary Margaret’s birthday, so unless they’re celebrating Mary Margaret’s cursed birthday, the timing doesn’t make sense (and I don’t think Johanna would know Mary Margaret’s cursed birthday, especially since she didn’t know her cursed name). Also, there is absolutely no snow on the ground and there would definitely be snow in Maine during winter time. According to Google, Maine gets snow regularly between November and February.

So, that was that. Cora has always been a manipulative bitch, she’s just more crafty and cunning than we gave her credit for. Regina is beginning to have doubts because of all the secrets Cora is keeping and because she can see her mother admiring the dagger and it’s power. Mary Margaret is keeping with the tradition of having mother figures die on or around her birthday. And Emma, Neal, Henry, and Gold will soon be on their way back to Storybrooke on the Jolly Roger.

Please leave comments and reblog! Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future reviews.

@searchingwardrobes @thisonesatellite @justbecauseyoubelievesomething @laschatzi @profdanglaisstuff @mariakov81

#once upon a time #once upon a time review #once upon a time rewatch #once upon a time 2x15 #once upon a time the queen is dead

13 notes · View notes

lizzybeth1986 · 5 years ago

Text

Quick Thoughts on The Royal Retcon Book 1 Chapter 11

• You've gotta admit, guys. This series spends more time retconning various aspects of their original story than they do on the actual premise.

• The food fight was wild and chaotic, the background history is always welcome, seeing Jess and Blake was nice and the moonlit hot springs scene was a nice change from everything...but my head is spinning from the constant shifts, okay?

• To avoid seeing my QTs in your dash, blacklist the following tags: #trh quick thoughts, #trh qts, #trh qt reblogs, #long post.

• Screenshots:

Hana: The Abhirio YouTube channel

Maxwell: @thethots-plicken and @itsbrindleybinch

Drake: The HIMEME YouTube channel

• Title: The Prodigal Father

Alternative: Most Parents in TRR Shouldn't Have Even Been Parents To Begin With

• The last chapter ended with a surprise twist: the return of Barthelemy Beaumont, father of Bertrand and Maxwell Beaumont. We had a lot of questions. Did Bertrand know he wasn't dead? Did Maxwell not know he wasn't dead? What the hell was he doing all these years and why had he left his sons in such a horrible position?

• Turns out the writers may have taken a leaf out from a Hindi serial or something coz - drumrolls - he was in a coma!

• Why do we never hear much about this so-called illness or even have a name put to it. What mysterious illness caused Barthelemy to deteriorate so much that he was trying out miracle cures from quacks and that he ended up in a coma for years? Why were his next of kin not informed when he came out of it or while he was rehabilitating? Why the heck wasn't Maxwell telling his wife this, or Bertrand his girlfriend? There is so much about this plot that doesn't even make sense.

• How does Barthelemy remember Drake from the court days but not Savannah ("Liam and Drake, you're so grown up now! Miss Savannah, you're lovelier than your reputation..."). Somehow he knows what's been said about Savannah and about Hana's accomplishments - wait if he'd been mostly getting his body back in order, how would he know this stuff? Who is telling him this? (Godfrey?? Is that why he's so faux-patriotic around us now??? Is that his real reason for visiting Cordonia only once a year or something?)

•

In Liam and Drake's cases, Barthelemy says the same thing about how Maxwell outdid himself by bringing the MC to the House, and that she has brought prestige to the Beaumonts. It's in Hana's and Maxwell's cases that the dialogue is different. In Maxwell's it's obviously as his daughter-in-law that he greets you, and in Hana's he speaks of now having two "daughters" in his house.

• Barthelemy then gets to the more serious part of his departure - the fact that Bertrand had to shoulder the responsibilities of being Duke earlier because of Barthelemy's condition, and that now Bertrand can relax while his father takes care of things at the estate. Is that care for his son talking...or his desire for control? I'm leaning towards the second.

• I'm pretty sure Bertrand is leaning towards the second because he's looking pretty resistant about this sudden change. His bride-to-be, Savannah, in the meantime, is super happy to meet her father-in-law and son's namesake. Hah. That'll change.

• Maxwell is nervous. Because he wants his father to see how different he is now, and how responsible he has become, but doesn't know what his old man will think. Don't worry, Esther says, plan this smartly and you'll get a new Pictagram follower!

• In any case, Maxwell's friends promise to help him get through this and support him, except for Drake who thinks he can impose limits (like "no singing"), because, yknow. The universe has to revolve around his comfort zone. Must be a Walker trait.

• More Jess and Blake nuggets! You get an option to ask them how they met, and they tell you about the cruise they first worked in (and presumably where Jess' sister met Liam's brother and (optionally) married him) and how they used to butt heads often. Nice RoE nugget, too bad the writers have so far barely even remembered Liam's brother who is from that series!

•

Yeah yeah I know that Kiara is probably back in Castelserraillian like the other courtly ladies (or chilling in a hotel somewhere in Texas), but if they're all supposed to be there for the wedding Savannah might as well have included her. Not only is Savannah a stinky fiancée and a stinky person in general (not a surprise considering her family), she is also a stinky friend.

• I repeat: my MC Esther has done practically nothing for Savannah. Nor has Hana. Why are we such a huge part of her ceremony again when she already had a long-time friend from court who had actually helped her and actually cared?? Only because we're the ones on an extended holiday in her ranch? Then say that - why do you need to make such a long speech about friendship while snubbing the one woman who made a damned effort to help you? (oh...right. I keep forgetting. Kiara is only remembered when people want to use her 😒).

• At the start of the rehearsals, Savannah tells Jess about the horse-riding-to-the-altar tradition, complete with a saddle that's been a family heirloom. Bianca and Leona, apologetically, inform Savannah that they had to sell it. Savannah tries to mask her disappointment, but fails. Barthelemy in the meantime, jumps in, in what he assumes would be "saving the day" (it's not, Bartie Sr. It really isn't)

Bartie...dude...you just got here. You can't already know what'll make your daughter-in-law happy when you've only spoken to her for all of five seconds. Plant your ass at the back of the congregation where it belongs!

• The girl really really wanted that saddle, okay Bartie Sr? Allow her to grieve that lost dream ffs.

• This scene I guess is helpful because while it still places Bartie Sr rather awkwardly in the "father trying to make amends and be caring" category, it gives you an inkling of why that persona doesn't sit so well on him. Bartie Sr may assume that this is something a caring parent does, except that what he's really doing is taking over, making all the attention revolve around him, believing he knows best and not listening to anyone. Even when he's being "nice".

• That saddle is going to come back some way or other, and it's probably going to be a diamond option, for which the free option is Savannah walking down the aisle with Bartie Sr. Eh. She threw a tantrum at my reception so her boyfriend could marry her, I'm not about to get her her dilapidated saddle. She can make do with her crusty father-in-law.

(The other possibility is that [at the end of the chapter] Bertrand left the house to get it or something idk, and it might be free after all. Is it too late to ask for the entire WEDDING to be a diamond option?)

• So this exchange leads us all to the Beaumont brothers remembering their childhood. Maxwell views it all through rose-coloured spectacles, Bertrand has very different memories of that time. Which is such a change from the previous series! I mean, wasn't Bertrand the one who kept going "my father's legacy, my father's legacy", while Maxwell was the one who didn't have very good memories of that time?

I can always imagine that Bertrand's views on his father must have changed when he started taking on the responsibilities of a father himself (thus making him view his childhood as 'not normal'). And Maxwell may well have come to appreciate Bartie Sr once he began taking House responsibilities. But guess who is breaking their heads to make these "connections". Us. Not the writers. Not the team in charge of this story.

• There are two PoVs to this scene: Maxwell's and Bertrand's. Maxwell's is the one that is lighter, funnier, showing us a wilder side of his brother, Bertrand is given the meatier one, with intrigue and a hint of plot.

- We're taken back to when Bertrand's motorbike was just purchased, and the boys choose to take it for a test ride. The Bertrand shown here is kinda similar to the one in the 6-years-ago flashback in Book 1, just...younger and cuter. Apparently in the time that Bertrand was living alone in a house with Maxwell, he aged like an avocado.

- What's with using this team and using the Waverley kids' faces for the Beaumont brothers??

- Young Bertrand and Maxwell don't mind living on the wild side - taking the Cavilieri Novanta 9S on a test drive through different areas in the estate, planning how they'll debut this beauty at the Beaumont Bash and generally making a racket. Bartie Sr scolds them from the window of his office, then asks them to come up and see him there. Bertrand opts to protect little Maxwell from his father's ire by going there alone, and then telling his brother that their father is "very proud" of them. Maxwell doesn't question this (the writers have forgotten that Young Maxwell was perceptive even as a little boy, so I'm not quite buying that he simply accepted what Bertrand said at face value), and jumps instead into planning a logo for their biker jackets (he suggests a kraken and a tiger). They can also opt to have a special kraken-related handshake.

- Bertrand, however, fills in the blanks, speaking to us about what he witnessed at the office, and what actually transpired.

This conversation is the point of the whole scene, and is connected to the Young! Drake scene in the sense that Bartie Sr and Godfrey are from the Great Houses that Constantine mentions are opposing the alliance with Auvernal. While they don't tell us what has disappointed these two so much, we do get the idea that they are displeased esp with the Queen because she has somehow convinced Constantine to not agree with what the two are planning so quickly. It's very possible that their frustration with Eleanor might have gotten them involved in some way with her death, but it's also possible that there are other players involved.

- Bertrand does not focus much on this bit because Bertrand is young and his priorities are different. The interesting thing about using these childhood flashbacks for the characters is that we will always get an incomplete picture, if only because the kids' priorities are different, and for them these side discussions will always count as "adult stuff". Big, scary, too complicated to understand.

- We do get a mention of Maxwell's weight (finally!). The writers frame it as Maxwell losing his weight after his mother's death and getting his regular exercise with his brother. This we get to know by Bartie Sr's fat-shaming comment about not wanted to see Maxwell get back to his "wide suits" (Seriously. Fuck this guy).

• Hypocrite alert! Godfrey who treats his perfectionist daughter as a failure just for existing and being a girl, now thinks he can yap about "being too hard" on one's children. Go fuck yourself Godfrey Not Gao (this nickname was brought to you by @callmetippytumbles).

• The bit that's most important to Bertrand is that he tries to pass an overdue bill to his dad, and his father ignores it to concentrate on "bigger" things. Which kinda leads you to believe that the problem existed waaaaay before Bartie Sr started believing in miracle cures for his mysterious illness. In fact I'm pretty sure both those things might be fabricated.

• So that's what Bertrand is trying to tell us. That Bartie Sr expected his sons to understand responsibility when he was not exactly ready to live up to that example himself. It still doesn't make sense though, considering every time Bertrand spoke about Bartie Sr it was as if he had to uphold the same legacy, and everytime Maxwell spoke about him it was to highlight what a disappointment he was to his father...and funny enough they've now switched roles.

• Anyway, Maxwell is now more inclined to believe Bartie Sr has turned a new leaf, while Bertrand is wary. He is not wrong about the controlling aspect though, even when his dad is trying to be nice he's being a controlling ass.

• Hana comes in and comforts Bertrand, in a scene I found pretty touching. She knows plenty about controlling, overbearing parents who expect plenty from her but fail to measure up to the little that she asks of them. I love how she makes the point that, having support or company of any form, works to lessen the pain of that kind of upbringing...and she knows this because she never had it.

• The bonding that takes place between Hana and Bertrand is lovely, although it's marred by the fact that were we going by the original idea of the Beaumont brothers' lives, Maxwell would be the one she'd be comforting.

• Two bits that stood out to me were where Bertrand offered to make up for all those years of disappointment and pain that Hana suffered, by being a sort of stand-in older brother now - and Hana's response to the whole idea of mending bridges:

I love the fact that she says this even as she still maintains her complicated relationship with her mother. It's small but a lot more than she was allowed to say earlier. In Book 3, a lot of what they had Hana say to Lorelai was more for Lorelai's benefit than her own (constantly educating her and telling the family that the most important thing was that they be happy together). Her responses were centered around Lorelai's comfort, not Hana's conflict. At least here, she gets to state (while safely away from her parents) how complicated her relationship with her parents is. I just hope this is not the last time we hear about it.

• It's now time for the rehearsal dinner! Everyone's seated at a pop-up restaurant Blake and Jess have made for the wedding, and includes the courses for the special day. It's bruschetta, a quiche and the wedding cake for dessert.

•

Auntie Bitch I hope you realize that the biggest freeloaders in this house are your own nephew and niece! Drake doesn't have a job until his wedding is over (unless one counts moaning and griping while enjoying shit that his BFF has paid for, his job (oh...wait...maybe that's why "Constantly Complaining Freeloader" was listed as a job description in his Italian Restaurant scene lmao)). The other biggest freeloader is your niece, who didn't mind accepting money from Maxwell and then turned around and acted towards Bertrand like she didn't need his damn money that she was already using.

• Also for the amount of complaining Leona has been doing for her own niece's wedding she might as well have not hosted them at all. You took the responsibility, you made all the guests you were hosting do work for you and spent all your time mocking them for not having the kind of specific skillsets you grew up with. If you wanted to stay alone with your sister in this crusty dilapidated ranch where you probably don't even pay people fairly, you could have told Savannah to go somewhere else. Like Applewood. Or Ramsford idk. You couldn't even save the saddle your niece would have wanted for the wedding, and if that's not a pointer to what a failure you are, Leona, IDK what is. So maybe stop acting like you're better than the nobles and keep quiet.

• Bianca states that she has never depended on the Crown yet somehow left behind both her children whose well-being was largely being maintained from the Crown coffers???

• But also given the response to Liam I have a feeling we might have a flashback from her next chapter. While she doesn't appear as angry as her sister, there is definitely an underlying bitterness there that I think the narrative might explore before we leave Texas. Idk.

• Bartie Sr focuses his attention on us again, insisting that he is like a father figure to us. You can either firmly refuse (my favourite option), express pride in House Beaumont (which pleases Bartie Sr no end) or be polite (in which case Liam lets out a cryptic "how generous of you" aimed at Bartie Sr it one point, showing us that he's not very impressed. Hmm. Hmm.)

• Bartie Sr is being controlling again, complaining that the quiche is not an elegant main course and insisting to Savannah that she try whatever he is demanding for the wedding. He keeps saying "trust me Savannah, you'll love it!" as if he knows her tastes better than she herself does.

• Chuck tries to offer cake, and Bartie Sr in his eagerness to refuse accidentally tosses it over on Leona's clothes.

• That's kiiind of a breaking point with Leona, and to sum it all up, THIS happens:

Jess has seen and participated in utter chaos, okay. So for her to appear all flummoxed and say "it was...a lot", it really, really has to be a lot.

• My favourite parts have to be Hana and Liam thoroughly enjoying the food fight and finding it cathartic, because they're the two who most need to channel their repressed energies into that kind of catharsis. Drake and Maxwell don't feel this need as much as they do because they already have ways and opportunities to channel it.

• The fight allows both the nobles and the Walkers to meet on common ground - common enough ground that Bertrand can (if we choose) finally tell his father that he and Savannah can manage their own wedding, thank you very much.

• Funny how Bertrand is expected to stand up to his father and ensure that what Savannah wants is not ignored, yet Savannah herself never makes even a quarter of the effort that he does, in making Bertrand comfortable in her home. Why does Bertrand have to do all the work in this relationship? Why do I only see Savannah complaining when Bertrand is not doing things exactly as she wants them to be done, yet not even lifting a finger when he's the one who needs the help and reassurance? Perhaps the best option is if he becomes runaway groom.

• We get to give one (1) solitary fuck about the country we're leading when we're back in the bedroom after this whole skirmish has gone down.

• LI diamond scene! At a moonlit hot spring nearby. The scenes mostly include the mandatory admiration for the lingerie, awe at the scenery and once the sex is done, an exploration into family and children from the would-be parents.

Liam: Calls the MC a "twilight goddess fit for worship" as soon as he sees her with her lacy lingerie in the moonlight. If you've done those scenes, there's a mention of the Forgotten Falls and the Blue Grotto and how Liam has a penchant for whisking the MC away to secluded watery places. (Liam also mentions finding a matching pearl to the first one they got at the Blue Grotto, even though the writers have practically forgotten what has happened to that first one 🙄).

The MC can choose to either go fast or slow in the love scene, and afterwards, Liam wonders aloud whether all families are complicated. The MC can counter this, by telling Liam they can ensure their child never gets to the point that Bertrand or Hana have by ensuring the child has their space to be open about how they feel.

Caption: Spring Fling

Hana: The two women mostly admire each other in silence (Hana tells the MC she would simply like to look at her as the MC gives a twirl) and the MC suggests expanding the "sample size" of Hana's lingerie because Hana in the moonlight is a vision. Hana offers to massage the MC's shoulders, and speaks about wanting to get away from the chaos and check in on her. Hana wants to take as much of their alone time as possible to check if the MC is doing okay, which IMO is her way of maintaining a relationship - by giving her partner space to talk about how they feel, something she rarely had the opportunity to do. She also admits to how exhilarating the food fight was. Hana is playful and teasing in her love scene, and brings the MC to the point where she will beg for more.

Once they are done, the two speak about how being in this place is like being in a fairytale, and there's a particularly lovely line nestled in this bit:

I wished for storybooks with scenes just like this as a kid. Not ones where the princess got rescued by the prince or the knight...but where she found love and happiness on her own...and the freedom to embrace them.

It's...it's so beautiful 😭

Caption: Woodland Nymphs

Maxwell: Now obviously Maxwell has the most personal experience among the four this time, since it's his father that returned home, and it's his family that is now dealing with some tough, complicated questions. Some of that shows in this scene. It begins with Maxwell seeing the MC in her lingerie and confession he almost forgot she had them...which is a good thing otherwise he would never be able to concentrate on anything else. He speaks to her about all the things he loves about her and about their relationship - especially how much they make each other laugh. Underwater, the two let go of their restraint and make love with abandon.

The conversation that follows is the most important, exploring Maxwell's feelings about his father's return. He doesn't have a lot of memories of his father - most of it was from when he was very young, or from Bertrand's eyes. Maxwell is very happy that Bartie Sr has returned, and wants him to see how happy he is with the MC. He speaks of wanting to tell him about the social season, about marrying the MC, about his bestseller book. There is a cute bit where the MC asks whether he would tell Bartie Sr about the hippo tattoo and Maxwell seems almost terrified by that option. But overall, there is nervousness in his scene, and also hope. He definitely is invested in making his old man proud. Proving himself has always been a theme with Maxwell, and that need possibly will increase with the arrival of his father.

Caption: Blue Lagoon

Drake: Calls the MC in her lingerie in the moonlight, "art that should be in a museum". The two admire each other in their new lingerie, and then admire the scenery. Drake has brought the MC to the hot spring mostly because it was rumoured to be called "Makeout Point", and he's always been curious to see what the big deal was. The MC can point out the beauty and romantic potential of the area, mentioning that she can imagine a sixteen year old swooning if her high school sweetheart brought her there, "or a duchess, if her marshmallow brought her here". During the love scene, Drake likens her to a siren, the sex can either be rough or gentle and the MC can either take control or allow him to.

Towards the end, the two talk wonder how their child might be, who they would resemble. There's a bit of banter back and forth about how the world is not ready for their collective sass 😄 I think because Drake is the most comfortable with his own family now, that his conversations with the MC about family focus largely on his memories of good times, and on what their child will be like.

Caption: Spring Fever

• Why the hell are you guys ruining all that nice lingerie in water!!!

• After a few days, and presumably on the day of the wedding, Savannah comes to us, shocked and worried, telling us that Bertrand is gone. This could be either a fakeout leading to him trying to get something nice and romantic done for her, or his insecurities cropping up IDK.

• General Thoughts:

- As much as I'd LOVE for the twist to be that Bertrand has realized this marriage will never work and has called it all off, I know for a fact they won't let that happen. Either his insecurities have come to a head with Bartholemy's return and he needs time to clear his head, or he's gone all heroic and tried to get Savannah's saddle for her, which we then have to pay diamonds to retrieve.

- Some way or the other that saddle is going to feature.

- They'll have Bertrand do something heroic I guess so that Leona will FINALLY stop being a whiny asshole. And Savannah as usual? Will not even lift her little finger.

- I'm more worried about what Bartie Sr will be upto once he's back at Ramsford estate! Esp given that his controlling has already begun at an event as innocuous as a wedding. ALSO given that this man will be back in Cordonia!!

- We're obviously going to get more hints about our pregnancy in the coming chapter, that I'm sure we'll ignore coz we don't want to jump into conclusions like the last time.

- Hana's bonding scene with Bertrand reminds me a little of a scene in Book 2, where she speaks of how Bertrand reminds her a little of her father...in, like, a good way.

- If it turns out that Godfrey and Barthelemy were indeed involved in Eleanor's death, it will be the ultimate irony. It would mean that the present occupants of the duchies that were once undermining the Crown...are now their stanchest allies. Lucretia and Olivia's parents vs Olivia, Godfrey vs Madeleine, and Bartie Sr vs Bertrand and Maxwell. It would be a nice contrast.

- Istg if they try and make HAKIM AND JOELLE suspicious too I will literally throw hands 😡

- Jesus, the amount of retconning going on in this book. That scene would have lost nothing by making Bertrand the guy who was desperate to prove himself to his father and Maxwell the one who had mixed feelings. Having both of them overhear that conversation rather than one would have been fine too. But this is one in a looooooong list of things that the team is shifting around, believing no one will notice. Maybe I should just call this series The Royal Retcon from now on because there is more of that happening than actual babymaking!!

- I'm pretty intrigued by Liam's lukewarm reaction to Bartie Sr personally. What does he know. Why doesn't Liam tell me and why doesn't the MC ask!!

- Bartie Sr spends surprisingly little time with his own namesake, but perhaps I shouldn't be so surprised since Junior's own parents are hardly seen with him either.

- Next chapter is the wedding (if we can find the groom, that is), Savannah getting her dream entry (possibly if we pay the diamonds) and hints that we may be pregnant that will culminate in the big reveal at the end. Yay?

- I know I haven't gotten out a QT for Book 1 in two weeks but those past two weeks have been filled with lots of IRL stuff. Hopefully I'll get back to that soon.

- Until next week, folks!

#long post #trh quick thoughts #the royal heir #trh qts #king liam #hana lee #drake walker #maxwell beaumont #bertrand beaumont #savannah walker

64 notes · View notes

mister-tom-a-dildo-lover · 6 years ago

Note

Hey can you please do Harrymort where Voldemort and Harry have to work together to help everyone because muggles find out about magic and the are jealous/angry/scared ? Please? Thank you.

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Harrymort

Tags: Canon-Divergence at the end of HBP so Dumbles is dead, Post-Graduation but Voldy is still alive and the war was still going and the Ministry wasn’t overtaken, it’s 2014, Bad!MuggleGovernments, Muggle leaders shoot themselves in the feet and the common muggle population take the side of magic, The Enemy and I have a common Enemy so we’re buds against them now, Drama, Murder, Dubious Morals, References to Sex, Hogwarts Professor Harry, Triggers for guns and bombs I suppose?, Violence, Prejudice,

All he could really say about this shite was that it hadn’t even been a muggleborn who had been the cause of everything. As they’d grown up in the muggle side, they knew how to get by and what to avoid. But of course a Pureblood would consider themselves too good to learn about the muggle world. This was why Hermione insisted on all magically-raised children attending muggle Studies, even if the class was behind the present times back when they were still in school.

The ironic bit was that Lucius Malfoy had been the whole cause of this. On some ridiculous, self-directed plan to find Harry on his own and present him to Voldemort during the summer, he’d been caught by the CCTV on the street nearest to The Leaky Cauldron.

Arabella Figg had been the one to alert the magical side of the new events by sending Harry a rushed letter full of terrified words that barely made any sense. Thankfully, she’d attached a clipping from a muggle paper where it pretty much spelled everything out as photos of Lucius Malfoy covered the front page, the date prominent on the bottom corner, showing empty space one second, and then showing the blond wizard a second later.

MAGIC REAL! WIZARDS LIVING AMONG US EXPOSED!

It all started with a rushed order that every family ‘hiding’ magical people, should turn them in, or turn in any evidence they had of the existence of magic. The order had gone out three days in advance of a sudden flooding of law enforcement all over Britain. Permission had been granted for them to ransack every home no matter the inhabitants, and search for proof of magic. And if any was found and hadn’t been given up already, it would be confiscated and the entire household would be put under arrest.

Claims of treason against the Crown were being thrown about in Britain!

The clipping Mrs. Figg had provided him with also had a list of the villages where wizards were known to live in the UK. There had already been a plan set in motion to extract the muggles from the villages and if the magicals refused to cooperate, then the muggle law enforcement was given leave to use lethal force.

Harry, by the time he’d received the letter, had only had less that twenty-four hours left to get those villages evacuated lest the muggles started dropping bombs or raining bullets down on the innocent people living within.

And the thing was, he wasn’t working for the Ministry. He wasn’t an Auror. He was a bloody DADA Professor! He was trying to teach the children to protect themselves from Voldemort and his ridiculous, terroristic faction! Being an Auror wouldn’t have helped them in the least. And it wasn’t his bloody job to save everyone anyway!

Still, Harry remembered the emergency assembly he had to call. He wasn’t the Headmaster or the Deputy Head, but he still had a certain level of power as Gryffindor’s Head of House. And when he’d set off the magical alarms, he knew he’d need a good reason for it.

All 1,017 students had gathered in the Great Hall, clad only in their PJs and housecoats, and looking tired as hell. He’d felt bad, but knew there were more important things going on than getting a full night’s sleep.

He had the memory of that night stored in a cupboard now.

“I know it’s late and you want nothing to do with being awake now, but I need your help. Thanks to Lucius Malfoy stalking me about London on 3 August, in search of my place of residence, the muggle CCTV caught him doing magic near The Leaky Cauldron. And it raised questions in the government, and they proceeded to poke around that area and found the entrance to Diagon Alley, even if they can’t get in yet.”

He remembered the tired faces becoming more awake as they processed what he had been saying.

“Eventually they realised they needed more information and if these people doing magic were walking among them so easily, then they must be living in Great Britain for however long. They have made it mandatory for all muggles to give up anyone or anything magical that they know of, or risk prison time. They have been taking into custody all wizards they find, plus their possessions. Front page news two days ago showed Lucius Malfoy’s face and a list of all the villages in Great Britain that wizards are known to inhabit. The muggle inhabitants are being escorted out as we speak and the government plans to use lethal force if the magicals do not turn themselves in when the order is given at five this afternoon.”

There had been a deathly silence following his words. He could tell those not Pureblooded understood how dire the situation was. And his fellow teachers did as well. Snape looked ready to spit fire.

“For those who are still confused over why we have to worry, think of it this way. Muggles have weapons called bombs that can do mass damage in little time. They’ve used them in the World Wars. Think of a single Bombard Maxima powerful enough to blow all of Hogsmeade up and leave nothing but bricks and ashes behind. Muggles have access to these weapons and they are currently an option. There are now 7 Billion humans on Earth. Magical humans only make up 1% of that. They outnumber us, and that’s why they’re evacuating their people from of the villages. They are very willing to destroy their own land if compliance isn’t given.

“I need all of you to send these pre-written letters to your parents warning them to pack up their things and come here. All of them. I don’t care if your family is Dark. I don’t care if there are Death Eaters among the lot. Right now, I’m sad to say hat muggles are the enemy now until further notice. All other countries are also taking up arms against magicals. There is no more time us to be at each other’s throats over differing opinions. We can’t afford that now. I will be heading to Diagon Alley to get The Daily Prophet on this immediately. No shield is strong enough to withstand a bomb let alone many. As Hogwarts is Unplottable, it is the only safe place other than Gringotts, left in our immediate community. And you’ll have a better chance being allowed in here than in there.”

He’d left then, not even taking a moment to explain to McGonagall everything. They’d had their own evacuations to do.

And, for the first time ever, Harry had to do something he never thought he would willingly do. He opened up the link between he and Voldemort and called out to the man as hard as he could mentally.

The high-pitched whisper of Voldemort’s mind had permeated Harry’s own. It sounded almost mocking in a sense, despite the shock ringing true in it.

How lovely to hear from you, Harry. The way he said Harry’s name had always made Harry feel strange and this time was no different. To what do I owe the rare pleasure of your company?

Your minion fucked us all over, was Harry’s response.

As they were connected emotionally as well as mentally, Voldemort could feel Harry’s urgency, and his teasing bled away instantly. What happened?

Persisting in telling your minions that muggles are no threat to us is what lead to Malfoy Sr. of all people, exposing us and now they have endless amount of our people in custody, but also their possessions, and they are planning on open fire in any way possible, on all the villages our people reside in once the muggles therein are evacuated. The operation will begin at five this afternoon. And this all leads back to your minion not being bloody careful while stalking my arse through London!

Voldemort was silent for several moments. Enough time for Harry to make it through the Floo in his office, to The Daily Prophet Headquarters. He had a love-hate relationship with the place, but if needs must.

You are already begun to plan, Voldemort noted, sounding interested.

Everyone to Hogwarts. I don’t know how the other magical communities are going to handle this, but this is how I’ve decided to. You can either join us or not, but the offer was extended to the children already, and they’ve been told to tell their families with letters I’ve written up for them.

You’d work with me of all people?

Better you than being blown to bits. You lived through the Blitz, you should know how bad this situation is! You should know that we do not have time for petty squabbles right now!

Voldemort went silent for several more moments, which allowed Harry to burst into the Chief Editor’s office without warning, frightening the man inside in the process.

I will see you soon, were the Dark Lord’s parting words.

And that had been that.

The enchantments on Hogwarts had been strengthened and extended even further just to be on the safe side. And all roads leading anywhere near the mountains were quickly overrun with plant-life and hidden. Hogsmeade had been evacuated and bespelled to look like a common forest. Voldemort had been the one to do that bit of magic and admittedly it had been fascinating.

Several people added their power to Hogwarts’ Ward Stone. Not only was the magical of the former Heads within it, but joining them now were Harry, Voldemort, Snape, Flitwick, Hermione, and Kingsley for added protections.

The crisis hadn’t been fully averted as some couldn’t be reached no matter how hard they worked with the House Elves and Owls to alert everyone. And as Harry predicted, several villages were no more and hundreds of magical beings were dead.

Oddly though, may of the common muggle population felt that the governments were overreacting to the revelation of magic. Many were enraged over their homes being ransacked and destroyed. In only a month of time, extremists arose on the muggle side. A faction if it could be called that considering how large it was.

More than half of the known world wanted things to go back to normal. Wanted magical people and creatures to be freed. Wanted law enforcement to stop being the very things they claimed magicals to be. And that was Terrorists.

Numbers were rising by the day. 4B+ people agreed with this line of thinking. That was more than half the humans alive. And that had been the most shocking to the magicals all over the world.

The unfortunate part was that despite so many speaking out, the governments had the weapons of mass destruction on their side, so insurgency wouldn’t do much without the firepower to back up their words.

It had all gone to shite. And Harry could only imagine what was being done to the capture magical beings. He’d seen some muggle films before. He knew it wasn’t good.

The only other somewhat decent thing in this, was the fact that Voldemort couldn’t gloat about muggles being horrible when it was obvious that it was mostly the governments, and those who were religious nutjobs behind this trauma. The fact that more than half the muggles didn’t agree and were vocal about it, had stunned many of the magical population all over the world.

It was a chance Harry used to impress upon the people of their community that ever group would always have bad eggs, but that shouldn’t reflect on the whole group.

Day 227 since magic had been exposed because of one pompous twat(who had been taken to task very painfully or so Harry’s heard). That was two hundred and twenty-seven days of their community living in constant unease and fear over what could happen. Jobs having to be maintained from the safety of Hogwarts. The castle magically expanding itself to fit the most of Magical Britain’s people.

Fifty thousand people under one massive roof. The poor House Elves. The amount of work involved in the upkeep of the castle. The amount of spontaneous classes on household magic so that everyone could contribute to the best of their ability without anyone being overworked.

Most of Diagon Alley was gone save for some buildings left standing in the rubble. The mumggles still couldn’t get in or see what happened, but the devastation was heartbreaking.

And through it all, Voldemort was up Harry’s arse nonstop. Wherever he went, the man was not far behind. Literally. Always around Harry. Some rubbish about them being the only true leaders of their community. Kingsley wasn’t even considered as a Ministry representative in the Dark Lord’s mind. Voldemort didn’t care for him at all.

Voldemort had been annoying for many reasons before. Now all Harry could think of was his snakey shadow that stalked him all the time. More annoying than bloody murder!

Day 283 of being cramped inside Hogwarts. In so little time, beliefs and assumptions had been challenged. Misinformation had been corrected. Harry had learned more about Voldemort’s goals and the truth behind many of his actions. Dumbledore apparently had a habit of thinking he knew everything and therefore didn’t consider much else beyond his choices or assumptions in the long run.

Basically, the old codger had been wrong about a lot of things.

That didn’t mean the Death Eaters as a whole were okay though. Most were still prejudiced arseholes and needed to have said arses kicked repeatedly to rid them of their idiotic traditions, but it was nowhere near as bad as Harry had been lead to believe, and seemed like it could be reversible with enough work.

And if Voldemort was going to flirt with him so much, it truly seemed like reversing this shite was possible.

Harry didn’t fancy himself the saviour everyone had always wanted him to be, but the opportunity to mellow Voldemort out couldn’t be passed up. If there was a way to calm down the Dark Lording a bit and make him less inclined to violence for the sake of cruelty, Harry would be thrilled.

Besides… he was kind of into the slender, serpentine appearance. The forked tongue and slittled eyes were pretty arousing.

“Who knew it would take muggles and bombs and a planned, world revolution for this to happen?”

Voldemort’s chilly hands massaged the bare skin of Harry’s lower back, the differences in their body temperatures making gooseflesh pop up all over the younger wizard’s body. It was a good feeling though, and Harry snuggled closer as his body warmed up with interest.

“You’re still a cockwomble, but a more tolerant one now.”

“Brat.”

“Wanker.”

Voldemort rolled them over so he could be on top. His slitted pupils didn’t contract in the least with the shift of lighting hitting his face. It was kind of ominous and also really fucking hot. “You have your list of marks prepared?”

“Yes,” he groaned. “I know whose block I’m knocking off in the morning.”

After enough time, they finally were able to make a full list of all the British leaders set on enslaving the magical population. As with everything, not everyone in the government was a terrible person. It simply took time and effort to separate the good from the bad. Weeding out the rotten roots so to speak.

While muggles had guns and bombs, they couldn’t really build anything to sense when magic was being used, so there was still a chance to overthrow them. But Harry had argued, at least for Magical Britain, that they should only kill off the people that absolutely deserved it, and imprison the rest. More than half the muggle population was on their side anyway. In the meantime, those who had been wrongfully imprisoned would finally see daylight for the first time in 345 days. Magicals and muggles alike.

Further action would have to be sorted out later. For now, this was the best plan they had to return to the relatively safe world they’d formerly been living in..

“No entertaining notions of grandeur, Voldy. We’re moving on from that entirely.”

“If I agree will you stop calling me that?”

“No. But I’ll go down on you more often.”

“Then you have my word, my soul.”

Trying to use romantic terms to get on Harry’s good side. “Flattery will keep you in my bed.”

“If I recall correctly, this is my bed in my room, my soul.”

“Details, details.”

Tomorrow would be the tension and the danger, but for now, they could relax for a little bit.

A/N: This got away from me so quickly! Took some time but I finally did it. I can see this happening in a sense.

#Harrymort #fanfiction #Watermelonsmellinfellon #Lord Voldemort

136 notes · View notes