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wallydrling · 11 months

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in the dark

pairing: wally darling/reader

rating: g

author’s note: this is posted on ao3 as well (and looks better over there, too!) gender neutral reader to the best of my ability as usual!

You’re not sure why this is happening.

You can’t pinpoint what set you off; it could’ve been an array of things. The game of Truth or Dare that got just a little bit too serious, Julie gradually shoving you closer and closer to Wally as the night progressed. Perhaps it was Frank and Eddie’s heady eyes on the two of you, feelings etched in the lines of their faces that you couldn’t decipher. Maybe it was Poppy’s home-baked cookies that were a tiny bit too sweet, sticky in the back of your throat, or Barnaby’s musings, his comment of, “Life in Home will never be normal, but I think we all like it that way, right pals?” You’d felt a headache forming behind your eyes, and then you’d really thought about it–life in Home. Life before it.

You couldn’t remember anything. The harder you tried to wrack your brain, the worse the pain got. Nobody was taking anything seriously, giggling and sharing stories and swapping crayons as the night went on. Sleepover at Julie’s; no one able to leave until the following morning. Nighttime wasn’t safe–you knew that. You just didn’t know why.

So, the headache progressed. And then the pain in your chest started up, heart racing. Your hands began to shake, and your breathing pittered off into strained gasps, and now here you are, holed up in Julie’s bathroom. You lean against the door, handle locked, and ignore the tap of soft knuckles against the wood. You’d just…got up and ran. You felt the residents’ eyes on you as you moved, nearly tripping over legs and the coffee table as you went. It’s Julie on the other side of the door, you can tell by the way she knocks. You don’t want to see her right now.

“Neighbor?” She calls out, voice flower-petal soft. “Did we say something that upset you?”

“No,” you reply, hand pressed to your chest. You’re not sure that’s true, and you don’t like the idea of lying to any of the residents, but you’re truly just trying to focus on breathing at the moment. “I don’t know. Julie–something isn’t right.”

“I’m going to get Wally,” she states.

“No!” You exclaim, quick. If you said any of this to him, he’d misunderstand. He’d think you want to leave Home, and you don’t. You just want to know how you got here, and where you were before. Carefully, you unlock the bathroom door and crack it open. Grabbing Julie by the wrist, you tug her into the room with you, and shut the door behind her. “How did you end up in Home, Julie?”

She hums at your question, and moves to perch on the edge of the bathtub. “I lived in the forest surrounding Home. I felt so cooped up there, with no friends to play with. I wanted a life of my own, so I moved here.”

“How come you remember?” You ask, exasperated. “I don’t remember how I got here. And when I try to think about it, it hurts. It just–it feels wrong.”

Julie, for perhaps the first time since you’ve known her, looks totally serious. There isn’t even a hint of a smile on her face, and her brows furrow as she mulls over what you’ve said. She reaches out to take your hand, gently patting the top of it.

“Well,” she begins. “What do you remember?”

“I woke up,” you explain. “Here, in Home, right on my front porch. Boxes of my things were just sitting outside. It was raining, and in my mind I knew that I was supposed to move my stuff inside, but I didn’t know how I knew that. I didn’t even know how I got to Home. I was just there, and then Wally was helping me carry boxes in, and I never questioned it after that.”

She smacks her lips together. “Maybe you shouldn’t start now, then.”

“What do you mean?”

“You didn’t question it back then,” she says. “What’s the point of trying to figure out the details now? Does it really matter? It’s not going to mean anything in the end because you’re not leaving.”

“But what if I want to leave?” You rush out. “Not–not permanently. But what if I had a family before this, or other friends? What if I want to see them again?”

She tilts her head, an uneasy smile on her face. “Neighbor, I’d nip that train of thought off at the bud.”

You sigh, desperate for a real answer; something of substance. “Julie-”

“I really can’t talk about this with you anymore,” she cuts you off, dropping your hand as she stands. “I’m going to get Wally.”

“I don’t want to talk about this with him,” you tell her. “Please, he wouldn’t understand. He’d get upset. He’d think that I want to leave, and I don’t, but-”

“If you don’t want to leave,” she looks up at you, mouth in a straight line with her arms ramrod straight by her sides, “then why do you keep talking about it?”

She exits the bathroom before you have the chance to say anything further. You groan, burying your face in your hands. Great, you’ve upset her. You didn’t even know she was capable of being upset. Was it really so wrong to question your place here in Home? Did the others know something they weren’t telling you, or were they just as in the dark about all of this?

The dark. Nighttime. Your eyes go wide, and your head pops up. Going outside in the evening is forbidden. Perhaps Home after dark has the answers you need. If you could just sneak out of Julie’s house, you might be able to do some digging around and get some closure. There’s got to be a reason why the rule exists–don’t go outside once the sun has gone down. What is being hidden under the guise of night?

When you tug open the bathroom door to try and creep out, Wally is standing there, still as a statue. His eyes are blank, a big smile on his face as he looks at you. So much for sneaking out through Julie’s bedroom window, then. You’ll have to be more creative with your escape plan. He looks at you for a long moment, silent, and you feel like he’s scolding you despite the fact that he looks just as happy as he does on any given day.

“Julie told me that you’re not feeling well,” he says. His voice is low, and he speaks a little slowly. “Do you want to go lie down?”

“Oh, no. That’s alright,” you try and paste on a smile, but you’re not sure it looks very genuine. You can’t draw attention to yourself right now. Julie is already on high alert, and now Wally is, too. “Let’s just head back into the living room. I want to finish up that puzzle we were working on.”

Wally cocks his head and stares at you. You’ve no idea what he’s thinking, have never been able to read him the way that the others can. But his smile twitches down at the corners just a little bit, just so, and your stomach sinks. When he reaches out to take hold of your hand, he doesn’t twine your fingers together.

The living room is as rowdy as it had been when you left. The other residents don’t so much as bat an eye at your return, and you take your place between Wally and Barnaby. The puzzle you’d been working on as a group is nearly finished, probably mostly in part to Frank, and you jump back into it with enough faux-fervor to hopefully ease Wally’s concern. He keeps his left palm pressed to your thigh as you work on the puzzle; something he’s never done before. His fingers are soft as usual, but his grip is tighter than you’d expect from him. It’s like he’s trying to keep you close, on his own version of a leash. So, Julie must’ve told him that you were interested in leaving. Seems he’d taken that exactly how you expected him to.

If you want to see what kind of answers nighttime in Home has to offer, you’ve got to play your cards right. You help the group finish the puzzle, and then participate in Barnaby’s version of karaoke. It’s mostly just Eddie making noises with his mouth off-beat, and Barnaby and Poppy singing loud enough to scare the owls outside. Wally, lover of music as you’ve come to know him, doesn’t even try to join in. While it’s true that he doesn’t know many songs, he at the very least usually attempts to keep up with Barnaby’s screeching, and mostly just copies what he sings. You’ve grown fond of his semi-robotic, leisurely tone, and you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve begged him to sing Beautiful Dreamer for you.

Now, as you hum along to Poppy and Barnaby’s duet, Wally is deadly silent beside you. His hold on your thigh never falters, and after a couple of songs, you chance a glance over at him to see that he is already looking at you, smile wiped clean from his face.

For the first time in the almost two years that you’ve known him, his presence does not comfort you. It makes you uneasy.

Animalistic instinct urges you to remove yourself from the situation. To run. Howdy has started up a game of charades, and Julie is whining about how using his extra arms is cheating. Poppy and Frank are shouting out all the wrong guesses, and Eddie is laughing so hard he’s nearly doubled over, his head on Frank’s shoulder. Wally is still staring at you. Barnaby rests his back against the couch, the entire thing shifting under his weight. You try and pay attention to whatever Howdy is attempting to act out, but Wally is still, still staring at you, gaze so intense you feel as though it is half a second away from burning a hole in the side of your head.

Almost as if you’ve lost control of your body, you stand up quickly. The other residents grow silent, their eyes trained on you like they’re waiting for you to speak. To explain why you’ve stood up in the middle of a game, fear evident on your face. You do a quick sweep of the room. Everyone’s smiles have faded, sans Eddie, who seems more confused than anything else. Wally is looking up at you from his place on the floor.

You take a step towards the front door.

“I just remembered that I left my oven on,” you say, forcing out a too-breathy chuckle. “I need to run home and check on that real quick.”

No one says anything. No one even blinks, the air in the room stock-still and muggy as you put one foot in front of the other, and take another step towards the door. If you’re quick about it, you might be able to lurch it open before someone stops you. You’re closer to it than the rest of them are, and you don’t think they’d hurt you. You don’t think they would.

You lunge for the door, hand wrapped tight around the knob. You go to jerk it open just as two fists come down on it hard, keeping it shut. Howdy. You hadn’t even seen him move, but he’d gotten over here fast. He is so much taller than you that you have to crane your neck up to look at him. You’ve never seen his eyes as empty as they are now, void of any emotion. He doesn’t so much as move, two hands centered near the top of the door to hold it closed.

“Neighbor,” Poppy says from behind you. “You know we don’t go outside at night.”

But I need to, you don’t tell her. You’re half a second away from pleading, from falling to your knees and begging for an explanation. I need answers. I need to get away from all of you. This isn’t right, this isn’t normal, I’m afraid-

You’d recognize Wally’s touch anywhere. His hand rests on your shoulder, thumb smoothing along the fabric of your pajama top.

When he speaks, his voice is cooler than you’ve ever heard it before. You’re used to the almost mechanical pattern of his words, but this is something different. He sounds faraway, not quite present. “I think it’s getting late. Sleep must’ve muddled your brain, neighbor.”

“Wally dear,” Julie cuts in. “Why don’t you escort them to the guest room?”

Where there are no windows, she doesn’t say. Where there is no way out.

You’re helpless to do anything but let Wally grab you by the hand and tug you along. The guest room is pitch black and smells of flowers when you enter. Wally flicks on the bedside lamp, and lets go of your hand long enough to pull the covers down on the bed. He fluffs the pillows, and gestures to the mattress.

“Settle in,” he says as he slides beneath the blankets, back propped up against the headboard. “I’ll stay with you while you sleep.”

Any other time, that notion would be sweet. You’d smile, your heart doing flips in your chest. You know that Wally doesn’t sleep, but he’s always been so kind about accommodating your need for it. This is not the first time he’s let you sleep through the night while he rests by your side, but it feels entirely different now. You shuffle towards the bed, and bundle up beneath the comforter. You can’t meet his eyes; don’t want to see the way he is looking at you right now.

You shouldn’t be scared of him. You’re–you’re not, you tell yourself. He is your closest friend, and you love him. You’ve held his hand, and you’ve cuddled with him, and you’ve kissed him. He likes it when you read poetry to him, and he lets you play with his hair despite the fact that he is so meticulous about how he looks. He has taken you on dates, and has learned what romance means just by experimenting with you. He adores you, and you adore him, and it is easy to be with him. It has always been easy. You’re not sure what to do now that it is suddenly the most difficult thing you’ve ever done.

“I’m sorry that you’re not feeling well tonight,” he murmurs, soft and low, nearly a whisper. He reaches out to smooth his hand through your hair, fingertips pressing into your scalp. “I hate seeing you so upset.”

You turn to lie on your back and stare up at the ceiling. This entire situation is so confusing, and you can’t seem to wrap your head around any tendrils of truth. Do the other residents here really not have answers to your questions? Are they keeping you inside merely to protect you, or are they harboring a dark secret? Why is Wally’s touch soothing you just as much as it is scaring you? Why the hell are you caught between wanting to move away, and wanting to wiggle closer?

“I love you,” he says, and he sounds as genuine as he always has. Nothing more, nothing less. “You’ll forget about all of this come morning.”

Deep down in the tiny, hidden chambers of your heart, you hope he’s right.

His hand stills in your hair, and you think, perhaps just as stupidly as it is brave, “I know him. I know who he is, and I love him.”

Careful so as not to burst the thin bubble that has formed around the two of you, you slide over on the bed, and rest your head in his lap. This is almost always the other way around, you sitting up while Wally lies his head across your thighs. He freezes like he’s not sure what to do in this position; like he needs time to think about it. To consider all of the ways in which it could go wrong.

Then, feather-light, his thumb strokes along the shell of your ear as he begins to sing:

“Beautiful Dreamer, wake unto me. Starlight and dewdrops are waiting for thee.”

Sleep does not come easy, but despite the misplaced terror and the curiosity gnawing at your bones, it manages to find you, anyway. And Wally is with you all the while.

#welcome home #wally darling #wally darling x reader #wally darling x you #wally darling x y/n #wally darling fanfic

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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 5 months

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cough hack wheeze who wants a teeny tiny fantasy au snippet with uhhhh laughingstock Tension. it's like... half a scene! unedited & out of context As Is Tradition

“Nothin’ much. I think I’ll poke around nearby towns, shake down some travelers - see what falls into my paws.”

“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea, Barn,” Howdy says. He sweeps aggressively, spreading dirt more than gathering it into the usual neat piles. “Who knows if those ne'er-do-wells are still roaming around the woods - if you and Ed couldn’t take them, what makes you think you could alone? Or- or! What if you stumble across those cultists? I hate to think of you stuck in an ambush with no help coming, knowing fully well that-”

A large paw slips the broom out of his grip and sets it to the side, and Howdy stammers to a stop as Barnaby crowds him against the bar with a soft, “Howdy.”

Howdy swallows hard, bracketed on each side by strong blue arms. The look Barnaby fixes him with dries up his well of words and bristles his fuzz. Howdy’s heart hammers against his ribs. He can feel Barnaby’s body heat, and it’s lighting his blood on fire.

“I’m not gonna be reckless, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Barnaby says. He barely needs to speak louder than a whisper for Howdy to hear him loud and clear. He smells like sweet smoke. “The other day was a one time deal, cross my heart. But, if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll take someone with me. I’m sure Jules is itchin’ to get outta town.”

“What would really make me feel better is if you stay,” Howdy blurts, just barely reining in the with me. He tenses, knowing that he’s toeing a dangerous line. One wrong word, and he’ll make the unspoken spoken - but the stress drains out of him as Barn’s eyes go soft. Perhaps that wouldn’t be so bad. Of course there’s no reason to worry, not about this, not with him. There never has been.

“You know I can’t do that,” Barnaby murmurs. “Not yet.”

Howdy doesn’t need to say that he knows. Not for the first time and with any luck, not for the last, it clicks in his mind that they’re on the same page - he doesn’t need to be a telepath to understand the thoughts behind Barnaby’s dark eyes.

Barnaby says it anyway. “I gotta get him back. I can’t… there’s no room for anythin’ else right now.”

Howdy sighs through his nose and slumps against the counter digging into the small of his back. He nods and adjusts the lapels of Barnaby’s vest. His fingers ghost over soft blue, and Barnaby doesn’t flinch at the contact. If anything, he leans the barest millimeter into it. His gaze burns into Howdy’s, even if they aren’t meeting at the moment, but it isn’t a bad feeling. Quite the opposite, actually.

“Well,” Howdy says in a low voice, “if you find a good lead, send for the rest of us. I’ll be there as fast as my four legs can scamper.”

Barnaby smirks. “Even if you need to take a boat?”

“Even so, Barn.”

The smirk slides into something that isn’t a frown, but isn’t a smile. It’s too soft for a grimace, but too intense for simple recognition. Barnaby seems to sway forward, and Howdy is sorely tempted to meet him halfway.

But Barnaby’s claw taps the counter, and he pulls away before anyone’s mind can be made up. Howdy’s hands slip from his lapels, brushing against fur as they fall and knuckles skimming over the smooth, fresh scar cutting across Barnaby’s belly.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” Barnaby says, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He squeezes Howdy’s shoulder and then his back is turned, and he’s leaving. All Howdy can do is watch.

And call out after him, “Your table will be open and waiting for you.”

Barnaby pauses in the doorway and looks over his shoulder at Howdy, and his grin is so full of affection that Howdy may just burst.

“With a free pint?” he asks.

“Hey now, don’t push your luck pal.”

Barnaby bursts out laughing, and Howdy can hear it even after the door thuds closed.

#clawing and sobbing and- no. no #im normal. im so normal i swear #yk on a related tangent. i keep wanting to go to my sleep but spotify keeps playing bangers #all of my Lore songs... the animatics in my head... i dont want to not listen!#so i thought hey. might as well offer Yet Another Snippet!#i have many these days!#i almost posted the human au carnival snippet but uhhhh this one won out. i wrote it like. two hours ago #im sorry if it lacks some Personality or if theres blatant Mistakes #im tired! i meant to be asleep two hours ago! its 2 am!#snippets from the bog #laughingstock #wh fantasy au #its not shown in this tidbit #but barnaby has his pack and it contains Not Only Wormie! but also Puppet Wally!#barnaby: i gotta find wally 🥺#honey... you have had him the whole time... kiss your caterpillar....#the. the tall one. not the teeny worm.#well. the teeny worm too but she just gets a little kisth on her tiny face.#the tall caterpillar would get uhhhh a lil more than that id expect. lotsa sugar yk yk #im. gonna go sleep #these two will be my nightly bedtime story as i drift away...#and hopefully ill wake up early enough to find the christmas lights before The Stream #and maybe crochet a few more rows.... read a couple more chapters...#i just misspelled read as red i need to be Unconchus

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lilyginnyblackv2 · 2 years

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T&B Clothes and Style Analysis:

This all started when I was thinking of a way to try and get a better gauge on Ryan’s age, but then it started to kind of become it’s own thing. Basically, something I’ve noticed is how aspects of many (though not all) the character designs are indictive of the decade they grew up in.

Let’s start with the oldest of our heroes (I’m limiting it to heroes so this post won’t be any more massive than I’m sure it will already be).

Kotetsu and Antonio: We know that they are both 38 in S2, so that means they were born in 1942. So their childhood and teen years were the 1940s and 1950s, and you can see the influence of those time periods on their outfits.

Back in the 1940s and 1950s cowboy inspired fashion was very popular. My grandfather had a bit of this style too, and he was born sometime in the 1930s. Of course, Antonio’s outfit is also meant to reflect his NEXT persona as well, being Rock Bison and having, iirc, a meat sponsor.

Meanwhile, Kotetsu has that snazzy look about him. Clean cut, button up shirt, tie, sleek and ironed pants, button up vest - his look is, in a way, rather hip in comparison to Antonio’s look. I also feel is has more of an upscale, blue collar vibe to it than Antonio’s, which style originated with blue collar, “working on the farm,” and legit cowboy types. Of course, Kotetsu doesn’t hold himself in that way, though I do think that his outfit is what adds to the moe gap and charm of Kotetsu. He has this put together appearance to him, but his life is a mess and he can be very immature at times, lol.

(This post is SUPER long and image heavy, so the rest is under a Read More!)

Next, let’s take a look at our newest heroes, since the 1980s influence on their style is obvious. All three of them are teens, so it would make sense that their fashion style and sense would reflect the 80s the most.

Subaru’s is, imo, the easiest to draw a link to in regards to possible inspiration. The outfits aren’t an exact match, but that puffy life preserver like jacket + jean pants combo just screams Marty McFly. I know he is also meant to reflect the “Red Ranger” trope found in series like Super Sentai and stuff like that, but I also think that Subaru’s problems with being looked down on and such is similiar to Marty’s with his issues surrounding being called chicken and what not. They can both be impulsive and quick to anger in that regard.

Lara has a school uniform on or, at least, an outfit inspired by one. Obviously, there are some liberties taken with the design, certain elements to make it cuter and more in-line with how school uniforms are often depicted in anime. The blazer top is really what gives it the 1980s Japanese school uniform vibe though. And since Lara is meant to represent magical girls, it makes sense that she would be wearing a school uniform.

Thomas has the most..anime-like outfit of everyone, imo. His outfit isn’t something you would someone wearing just every day, ya know. I tried looking a bit into high fashion/runaway fashion and the like, but didn’t get very far with that. I think the aspects of his outfit that have some basis in the 1980s though is the combo of “very shiny leather jacket” + tight jean combo like we see MJ wearing in his Thriller MV.

Okay, so now let’s take a look at characters that we know the exact age of, or have a very good, general idea of how old they are. First up here is Barnaby.

Listen, Barnaby’s outfit really doesn’t have much going on in the way of 60s or 70s fashion (the eras when he was a teen), but his hair absolutely does! Without a doubt, the inspiration for Barnaby’s hair was Farrah Fawcett and her hairstyle became popular in the 1970s, when Barnaby would have been in his late teens and early 20s. He had more of a general shaggy hairstyle in the few flashbacks we see of him as a younger teen.

This chunky gold chain is also very 70s.

Now we are more in the “we have a general idea how old they are range, and it was confirmed via outside sources.” The one that I feel most concretely on this is Karina, who is 19 in S2. That means she was born in 1961 (one year earlier than my parents, lol) and her childhood was in the 1960s and her teen years were pretty solidly in the 1970s outside of 19.

Whenever I think of Karina’s dress in S1, I my mind just always goes to the kinds of short dresses that were really popular in the Brady Bunch era. Other elements of her design are definitely different, but that dress is such a key aspect. Her S2 design feels more mature and like Mary Tyler Moore-esque.

Ivan, I believe, is 21 in S2. I think it was confirmed, somewhere, that he was 18 in S1. So he is only a little bit older than Karina and his teen years were the 1970s, period. Design-wise Ivan is a complete fish out of water. At least Barnaby had the hair and jewelry tying him to the 60s and 70s. But Ivan is meant to be a Weeaboo, so that whole idea and concept is far later, and his visual appearance reflects that.

However! Edward Said’s book Orientalism, which goes on to describe the term as:

the exaggeration of difference, the presumption of Western superiority, and the application of clichéd analytical models for perceiving the "Oriental world". This intellectual tradition is the background for Said's presentation of Orientalism as a European viewpoint reflecting a contrived Manichean duality.

(Source: The Wikipedia on Orientalism)

And that fits in with Ivan’s Weeaboo persona quite well. It’s a critical concept that is well known today (and which has a long standing documentation of existing before Said’s book was publish), but was only brought into the spotlight with this book in 1978.

Edit: Check out my reblog where I have more information on how Ivan’s outfit actually connects back to the time period.

The last character that we have a general idea of around about what age they are is Pao-lin. She was 13 or so in S1 and around 16 in S2.

The major inspiration for her outfit is obviously Kill Bill, lol. Especially with the martial arts and everything. But, of course, her S1 outfit also takes inspiration from jumpsuits that really gained popularity in the 1970s and tracksuits too. Her later outfits in The Rising and S2 are more masculine presenting and have her wearing tank tops and hoodies, both of which started becoming more commonplace as everyday wear in the 60s, 70s, and 80s. (This could also apply to Ivan, who is wearing a black tank top under his jacket.

Finally, we get into the characters whose ages are vague: Ryan, Nathan, and Keith. Now, Ryan is younger than Barnaby. That’s basically all we have to go off of really, but in The Beginning we can see that he looks in his late teens (he has a slimmer face similar to Thomas and Subaru).

His outfit there also has a very 70s disco vibe about it. Though the hair and other aspects of it are also a bit late 90s/early 2000s in feel too. His earlier designs were quite 60s and 70s inspired too:

The one in the top left almost feeling New Wave / Hippie-ish to some extent (a part of me would have loved if they went with that design, but I love his current design too). His outfit in The Rising (and S2, which I won’t even bother talking about here) are a bit more: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ design-wise.

The closest stuff I could find were like sports jerseys/sport shirts from the 70s and those shorts pictured, lmao. Those shorts are a bit shorter than Ryan’s, and they don’t have the more visually appealing hanging material, etc. But they do show how there were these sort of long shorts/pants in that era as well. Though, visually, Ryan still fits more in the 2000s era here. I started this whole research and post hoping that some of Ryan’s outfit could give more insight into his age...but nope, lol.

More info on Ryan’s outfit! :D

Anyway, our final two are Nathan and Keith. Nathan has made statements that make it seem that she is older than Barnaby and Keith, but likely not quite as old as Kotetsu and Antonio. I’ve always assumed that Nathan was in their 30s. Placing their teen years closer to the late 50s and 60s.

And while a lot of Nathan’s outfits can just be simplified to the idea of being flamboyant, I feel a lot of Nathan’s presence and the air about them is very similar to the Ballroom Scene of the 60s:

While the outfits are not one-for-one matches, there are similarities in posing, feathers, mesh, color choices, and just the outlines that are created. I will say that the shoulder pads in Nathan’s S1 outfit are far more 80s though, lol.

Edit: I realized I forgot to explain what the Ballroom Scene even is and how it relates very specifically to Nathan’s gender identity. From the Wikipedia page:

The Ballroom Scene is an African-American and Latino underground LGBTQ+ subculture that originated in New York City. Beginning in the late 20th century, Black and Latino drag queens began to organize their own pageants in opposition to racism experienced in established drag queen pageants. [...] While the initial establishment of Ballroom mimicked these drag queen pageants, the inclusion of gay men and trans women would transform the Ballroom scene into what it is today: a multitude of categories that all LGBTQ+ people can participate in.

There is a fantastic documentary on this whole subculture and scene called Paris is Burning (link is to the YT video of the full documentary). I watched it back in college in my Queer Studies class. It’s very enlightening and insightful, but it does deal with some heavy topics (SA, suicide, etc.). I definitely suggest giving it a watch if you can though!

Edit: Some more excellent information on Nathan's and Pao-lin's styles. Pao-lin's connection to Bruce Lee and Nathan's fashion connection to the 1970s glam era + visual kei (his The Rising outfit).

FINALLY! We have Keith. His age is completely unknown. I’ve always felt that he was closer in age to Barnaby than Kotetsu and Antonio. His outfit really doesn’t tell us much. It’s a very “All-American, Hard Worker” guys kinda outfit. Definitely something you would find in the 70s (image pictured above is from the 70s) and 80s, though his pants are more 80s-like than 70s (more straight than flared).

(Though, looking at that above image, it seems like Barnaby’s big belt is also very 70s-ish!).

Anyway, I feel I can’t talk about Keith and his appearance and style without also mentioning this:

Keith looks like Tom Cruise, and once you see and know that, you cannot unsee it either, lmao.

Okay, okay, let’s wrap this up! I’m going to be including sources and references for the clothes images and that’s basically it. If you have anything else to add, please do, and thank you to anyone who has read all the way to the end! It’s greatly appreciated and I hope you enjoyed reading this! <3

Sources:

Antonio’s: blue17 and Vintage Dancer

Kotetsu’s: Vintage-Retro

Lara’s: qph.cf2.quoracdn . net

Pao-lin’s: Plaidstallions

Nathan’s: Esquire

Ryan’s: Vintage Vixen and Bored Panda, Dress That Man and The Empire Tribe

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speckle-meow-meow · 1 year

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If you aren't busy can we see a Frank from welcome home with a fem reader who's like Shinobi from demon slayer (if you don't know, she's kinda a cold person who hides her emotions well because she lost her older sister, but she heavily reminds me of a butterfly) but reader breaks down after finding out her jacket ripped while she was hanging with one of the gang.

{All I’m gonna say about this is this isn’t platonic nor romantic, interpret this how ever you will}

You and Frank were great friends, you’d always hang out. I think Frank was drawn to you because of your butterfly-like nature.

You all were hanging out

Barnaby was running around catching a ball Wally threw

Julie and Sally were playing tag

Poppy and Howdy were preparing food

And you, Eddie, and Frank were sitting at a picnic table talking about different subjects

Then all of a sudden Barnaby ran past you accidentally dragging you with him and tearing your haori

Frank and Eddie were the first two people to get up and run to you

Then everyone gathered around you asking you all these questions

But you were on your knees holding your haori

You slowly got up and politely excused yourself speedingly walking to your home trying to hold back tears

You were crying while sewing your haori apologizing to Kanae

The Haori you decided to wear today was your older sisters

You inherited it when she passed away

It took so long to wash all that B̴̢̠̋̊͑̈̾̑̊͒͗̽l̷̢̨̨̫̼͙̞͉̗͉̖̲̖̞̿̉o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓o̶̯͎̱͐̇͋̅̃̈́͋̽̊̀̓͊̃́͋̓d̴̨̢̤̗̦͚̺̭̤͙̹̃̕ off it

After finishing the patch-up you heard a light but noticeable knock at the door

It was Frank

He came to check up on you

You decided to let him in

He consoled you about your haori and comforted you the best he could

Which included hugs, words, and facts about butterflies

You fell asleep leaning on his shoulder which made him stop talking

He picked you up and put you to bed

Hoping that tomorrow will be a better day for you.

{Thank you anon for requesting Frank! I honestly don’t see a lot of him or any other characters in ‘x reader’ fics! But as always hearts and re-blogs are welcomed along with requests and questions}

#x reader #Female!reader #fluff #comfort #frank welcome home #Frank Frankly #Frank Frankly x reader #Welcome home #welcome home x reader #Wally darling #julie joyful #poppy partridge #sally starlet #eddie dear #howdy pillar #Platonic? romantic? you decide

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krasytoonz · 10 months

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This isn’t an ask for the characters but an ask for you if that’s ok :3

what do you like about the welcome home community/fandom? And what makes you happy?

(Yes! That is okay, cat-face anon!)

As for now! I love how Positive and Uplifting you all are to Me, and I love all the heartfelt comments I got in my inbox! (Everytime I read them, I get Emotional! Some of them are so Personal, and I am just so Glad that my AUs are helping a lot of you out from a Tough time!)

I will Not Delete any of those very wholesome Feedbacks because I want to keep them in my inbox forever! As a Nice Reminder that I made somebody’s day Better!

As for what makes me Happy,

I suppose the positive messages I received in my inbox! (I may not respond to them since I don’t want to lose them, but just know that I Smile Everytime I read it over and over Again!)

And everytime somebody say that they are Happier because of my AUs, or my work in general!

And silly doodles of my AUs! (Thank you @koifsssh once Again! I still laugh at it! Bahaha!) And Fanarts!

And barnaby x howdy

That’s all I could think of! Have a Great day, cat-face Anon!

#krasytoonz

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chaotic-sundown · 4 months

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I was doodling around

here’s two doodles of towns-keeper Frank

Edit: I went on a long talk about the au

I’m not sure why but. It happened

The premise is that their basically shadow like, though there are like different sorts of entities, Frank and most of the other neighbors are shadow based

therefore they prefer darker places… while normal sunlight may not necessarily hurt them and more of so just annoy them like a sunburn that doesn’t go away till they go inside or hide under a blanket

maybe anything like UV light would hurt hurt them (from what I know about UV lights).

I’d also think that it’d be different for a lot of the neighbors. (long rant about that underneath this)

Sally is supposed to be a light based entity (so she glows) and dislikes darkness because it would reduce power and probably hurts in some way to be around. So I’m a situation like that she’d be glowing the whole time till she ran out of energy or found a different light source.

so it’s like a reverse vampire sorta. just neither type of entity sucks blood out of humans

and Julie is another shadow based entity but can stand the sunlight as long as it’s cold outside, it mostly just gives her a headache after a while (or leads to a migraine).

Wally is shadow based as well as home

though home is a living shadow in context. Needing to possess something to actually make contact with anything that’s not necessarily a shadow, so home could possibly pick up a shadow of something and move it. Yet that’s still too limiting for them so they use different objects (or dolls, puppets, anything human like) as a sort of vessel to watch over or talk to other neighbors. Home dislikes bright places if they can’t be seen in some way. Though deeply hate darker places if they don’t have a vessel. For the most part home wouldn’t really be affected by light because they have no real physical form wally can deal with both bright and dark places. Even Though being shadow based he prefers bright times of the day (as long as not in the light) because that often casts shadows in the forest he lives, giving him an ability to explore the forest more during the day other then others who would usually just stick around during the night. But if someone were to put Wally right in the face of sunlight it’d probably hurt him a lot, not that light would kill any of them but it’d be cruel to do that. He’s not used to light as most of the time he isn’t the one going out to get anything. howdy, barnaby, and Frank are probably better if out in direct sunlight as i could see them being the people who go out of the forest to get things more often. Howdy is shadow based. Somehow no one knows what Barnaby is. They just didn’t question it.

howdy can deal with most light as he’s used to it, but it’s annoys the hell out of him and strains his eyes. (Sunglasses . He is almost always wearing sunglasses if it’s day time.)

barnaby doesn’t have much effect from it. Thought seems more resilient in sunlight, saying that darkness either gives him a headache or just makes it harder to function in some cases.

poppy is a lot like barnaby when it comes to things like this. Though it seems switched as she prefers shadows more than light. Light gives her headaches and just distracts her like a scratchy sweater. Though she can deal with it

Eddie is human so he’s not affected by any of this lol

all and all they all sorta just hang around inside because lamp-light and I guess what I’d call inside-light, unless they somehow found a middle ground

I know this seems rather confusing because I can’t line things up or sort correctly but I’ve finally gotten past a bump and can think of things and design… I’m very happy lmao

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sluttypatrickstar · 7 months

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liveblogging the horrors: without merit by colleen hoover (part 3)

(part 2 is here)

okay, sorry, new part bcus i keep posting so much including all my screenshots and stuff. im doing this on my phone otherwise the linking would be to both parts 2 and 1, but i might do a master post with links to all of the different parts later. if you’re interested in following along, all of these posts should be tagged #elijah reads without merit

chapter six

merit once again thinks honor just isn’t good enough for sagan (based on nothing but her own assumptions)

merit calls the name sagan “smart and sexy” and prefers to call him honor’s boyfriend bcus his name is just so attractive. i don’t know what is so sexy about “sagan”.

you ARE being ridiculous actually

merit is more covered up at the pool than honor, because she doesn’t feel as confident (see the above screenshots). i will forgive merit’s problematic thinking above because honestly i think teenagers can and do think like that. what i will NOT be forgiving here is that luck starts bothering her about it and insinuating that everyone has already seen what she looks like under the t shirt because they can see honor. bro you are an adult and her step uncle stop trying to make her reveal more of her body and stop implying that just because they’re identical twins they’re the same person. luck is also trying to therapise her and wants to get to “the root of” why merit is so much less confident and outgoing than her sister. WOULDN'T YOU LIKE TO KNOW WEATHER BOY. also leave her alone you freak

luck reveals that the reason victoria no longer speaks to him is because he ran away after stealing and pawning all of her jewellery including extremely sentimental inherited pieces. merit uses this as once again a reason to hate victoria for being the stepmom: “Funny how Victoria needs apologies from people, but she’s never once apologized to any of us for tearing out family apart.”

IT TAKES TWO TO TANGO, MERIT, AND ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE IS YOUR FATHER BUT YOU ALWAYS MAKE IT ABOUT VICTORIA AND YOU ARE CONSEQUENTLY SO HORRIBLE TO HER and Barnaby never defends her from merit’s nastiness so honestly i would be in full support of a second victoria divorcing him. she deserves better

INCEST PUKE COMING UP SORRY EVERYONE

merit says that she is not attracted to luck, but bro, why are you even asking that you fucking weirdo!!! i am hitting this man with a bat!!!

merit has been thinking that honor isn’t good enough for sagan this whole time and angsting over him, but sagan brushes some hair off her cheek and she does a complete 180 which is funny

she has SO not been fighting her attraction to him, but i love how she’s like HES DISREPECTING MY SISTER RIGHT NOW AND THATS FUCKED UP. finally some sister solidarity

the chapter ends with more Luck Being Horrifying, including asking merit about her virginity and pressuring her to answer questions about her crush (i think luck knows it’s sagan) in front of all of her siblings (except moby) AND her sister’s boyfriend who she has a crush on. luck you are weird and horrible and i hate you.

#anti colleen hoover #anti coho #elijah reads without merit

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mysticalcrusadementality · 2 years

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You know what minor detail I find really funny in both The Rising and season 2?

Is that it’s only after Kotetsu has lost his secret identity that he’s shown to have fans.

In season 1 after the Jake stuff we get a jumpcut to 10 months later where we get exposition telling us that Tiger and Barnaby have never been better! They’re teamwork is flawless and they’re racking up points by the hundreds, and we get to see the boys sharing the spotlight in a TV interview but even so we never get to see Kotetsu interact with fans, let alone fans that are just his. (You may correct me if I’m misremembering here, but I’m fairly sure I’m accurate.)

But The Rising? First couple minutes after the arrest we get an excited’ “Hey it’s Kotetsu!” Followed by a small crowd cheering and waving at them, not Barnaby at first, no but Kotetsu. The end of the movie when he’s wondering if he should really make a second comeback? The WHOLE FUCK CITY IS SAYING “YES COME BACK, ONE MINUTE OR NOT WE LOVING SEEING DO YOUR BEST!” (The “we miss you” isn’t said but it’s very much implied.)

Season 2 when they go to fan events like panels and lectures? FANS ARE LINING UP TO SHAKE HIS HAND, THE ADORABLE RUGRATS ARE EXCITED TO SEE HIM AND CLIMB ALL OVER HIS SUIT. When he’s on the street, going full on detective mode ala Barnaby looking for they guy that hurt said partner? He gets asked for pictures and selfies that of course get posted to social media and he’s trending!

Let me reiterate.

Kotetsu

Supposedly washed up, unpopular, old man hero

Kotetsu

TRENDING.

It’s just, it’s so cathartic to him get so much love and it’s hilarious that despite Kotetsu’s very valid points about the merits of having a secret identity, not having one anymore has actually been such a positive for him. I think it’s pretty powerful for the citizens to be able to see the man behind the cape. He’s not the untouchable celebrity that Barnaby is but the friendly neighbor that’s always willing to help, anytime, anyplace, any way he can. They trust him, believe in him and love him just for being himself and I think that’s beautiful.

#tiger and bunny #tiger & bunny tag #tiger and bunny 2 #kotetsu t kaburagi #kotetsu t. kaburagi #best boi #Kotetsu appreciation #wild tiger #hero

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indecisive-dizzy · 4 days

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Hi bestie I’ve been obsessing over DearDollops so badly that I’ve forgotten about Howdy/Daisey (any ship name ideas for them? I can’t think of one :,3) so yay ideas

I feel like the first few times they hung out (before they caught feelings/knew each other well) Howdy was a bit dismissive of Daisey, but not willingly. He’s just like that in the beginning, but he warmed up to them

Howdy loves their guitar playing, he plays piano with Daisey when they have free time

If Howdy becomes a butterfly, Daisey definitely helps him adjust and gushes over how pretty he is. They definitely comfort him if he has complicated feelings over it

They totally help Lizzy with her hotel, Howdy gives her business/financial advice while Daisey helps decorate and add some plant life to the hotel’s exterior

Unrelated but Lizzy’s hotel is called the Butter-Bee Hotel :3

Daisey was really nervous to introduce themself to Howdy’s family during the holidays, but they all got along great :D

Howdy met Daisey’s family and they all liked him, besides a couple cousins (WHY ARE THEY ALL HATERS-)

Daisey beat them up so it’s okay 👍

Idk why but I could totally see Daisey sleeping in late and Howdy (who woke up an hour earlier) would happily and energetically burst into the room and say something like “Wake up, my little flower petal!” (Or something idk any nicknames :,)), and he’d blow an air horn to wake them up

It does but Daisey throws a pillow at him in annoyance

Daisey isn’t the biggest coffee fan, but they love when Howdy brings them coffee in the morning. He knows just how they like it and he doesn’t bother them about it or ask them to try it another way

Daisey totally has stuffed animals there and cuddles them when they sleep. Howdy will never admit it, but he purposely pushes them off the bed in the middle of the night so he can cuddle his partner

He doesn’t cook often, mainly just throwing things into a pot and cooking them like that, so Daisey helps by buying him cookbooks so he can learn some recipes that aren’t just pre-made stuff you heat up

They feeds the birds whenever they can. Birds live Howdy, Howdy tolerates birds, and birds chase Daisey around for sport. Daisey is a little scared of them but they’re friend-ish with birds

Daisey has a fire phobia, so they try to avoid big fires whenever they can. Howdy helps them get used to them by taking them camping and making s’mores with them. They’re at a reasonable distance and they get a nice little treat out of it

Sometimes when Daisey sleeps in, Howdy just carries them in one of his arms while he gets himself and his bodega ready. Sleepy spouse gets carried around like a teddy bear

Barnaby totally cracks jokes about it whenever he comes by the bodega and Howdy’s just carrying his spouse like that

Fluffy fur is perfect to bury your face in! 10/10 Daisey would definitely recommend

I’m so insane about them omg I love them

*cracks knuckles* Ow- I have little in terms of ship names, as I have been stumped! But I'll give what I got! plus bonuses hehe

FlowerShop or FloralShop

GardenSale

HowdyaDaisey (long, but based on Howdys full name)

CaterpillarFood (This is a Joke lol. Some caterpillars eat daisies, I thought it was funny)

Bonus: InStitches (unfortunately would fit Barnaby/Daisey better. but that ain't happening(?))

anywho! I think howdy is dismissive of everyone until he gets too know them more. like he's gotta put down the business (scammer) persona and see them as more than customer

Howdy playing piano is a hill I will die on <3 thank you I love the idea of them playing music together

Butter-Bee Hotel is an amazing name and sounds edible. I'm going to eat it <3

Howdy advertises the air horns but adds a warning label "Warning: May result in pillow to the face" lol

Jealous Howdy is funny especially over stuffies. Insert that meme "Me, my spouse, and their pile of various stuffed animals" ajfnahfhjfj

Buying Howdy a cookbook sounds cute, don't get me wrong, But this is Howdy Pillar. Howdyadoo (middle name pending) Pillar. He loves his spouse but he doesn't have the time of Day to be learning "from scratch" recipes. He thinks he's got it all figured out and doesn't need "some, lovingly gifted, book" to tell him how he should be eating his dinner.

He will then Turn his four legged ass around and cook Daisey a full course meal from the book. Because he's (a simp) got to prove that he Can cook.

cough- uh anyway birds! Why are they mean to Daisey? Howdy go shoo them away

Step 1: Carry Tiny Spouse. Step 2: ??? Step 3: Profit.

Alternatively

Step 1: Be Carried By Large Husband. Step 2: ??? Step 3: Profit.

Barnaby would joke and Howdy would have to shush him so he doesn't laugh to hard and wake Daisey up, if they aren't already.

#i have so many feelings about howdy in the kitchen for some reason???#i yearn to be proven wrong but also Im Not #i am in desperate need of humbling #these are all so cute btw i anfhahfhshs #<33 #theyre sooo <3 #welcome home #howdy pillar #welcome home oc #not my oc #dizztalkstoomuch #neon child #ok off to bed now #<3

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unfortunate-arrow · 4 months

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𝒱𝒾𝑔𝓃𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑜𝓃

A/N: For @hp-12monthsofmagic’s December prompt (“Merry and Bright”). Made up of two short scenes. Note the discussions of Hanukkah and Judaism may not be the most accurate, so apologies for any missteps.

One: The O’Donnell-Lee Cottage, County Donegal, Ireland, December 25, 2006

Sara O’Donnell-Lee watched the gentle fall of snow, illuminated in the color of the charmed baubles that floated outside around their cottage. Her eldest son, aged 5, was fast asleep in her lap with her fingers carding through his short red hair. Her eldest daughter, aged 7, was asleep on the floor, clutching the plush moon calf that she had received earlier that day. Sara’s younger two children, aged 2 and 7 months, had been put to bed earlier. The floor was strewn with the remnants of gifts that had been received earlier in the day, the lights on their tree sparkling. A calloused hand ran gently over her shoulder, causing her to look up.

“Happy Christmas, my love,” her husband, Barnaby, said, leaning over to press a kiss onto the top of her head.

“Merry Christmas, Barn,” Sara replied, wrapping her hand tightly around his.

“Was this Christmas everything that you imagined?”

“Yeah, I think it was. Dora and Declan were so excited for everything. I don’t think we’ll ever get this Ireland quidditch sweater off Dec.”

Barnaby laughed, fondly looking down at their son. Sara’s brother, Conor, had gifted their eldest boy an Ireland quidditch sweater, which their boy had quickly fallen in love with. The boy had even put the sweater on over his pajamas.

“It was a good Christmas, Barnaby. Everything about it this year was good. Actually, I’m surprised at how smoothly this all went,” Sara said.

“Yeah. I thought it would be a lot more stressful with four. Brendan’s so laid back though,” Barnaby replied.

“I hope you liked your gifts.”

“Those gloves are absolutely incredible. They’ll be so helpful in the cold. I love them, Sara. I really do. What about you?”

“The necklace is beautiful, Barn. I don’t know where you thought of the idea, but I absolutely adore it. Same with the little ornament with all six of our names on them.”

Two: The O’Donnell-Lyman Home, December 24, 2016

“Momma, why do we light all these candles?” Naomi O’Donnell, aged 7, asked, leaning over the kitchen table, watching as Ruth worked on setting out on the different candles.

“The purple and pink candles are for advent. That’s for the lead-up to Christmas. Dad can explain those better than me. The blue ones and white one are for Hanukkah, which is what my family celebrates,” Ruth explained.

“I like Hanukkah. The food is so fun and good,” Naomi replied.

“Yeah, Hanukkah has good food. We celebrate that because I’m Jewish, just like we have other traditions and holidays than Dad.”

“What’s Daddy, then?”

“Dad’s Catholic, so he has different holidays than I do.”

“Why?”

“Well, we have different beliefs from religions. For Dad, his religion says that Jesus is the son of God and very important. My religion doesn’t believe that. Only God is important, while Jesus isn’t very important and can be seen as hard to understand.”

“What do I believe?” Naomi asked.

“You can believe whatever you want to, Naomi. Dad and I don’t have any one way we want you or your brothers to believe. That’s why we celebrate Hanukkah and Christmas, Passover and Easter. We get to cover the important parts of each culture.”

“Oh. Is that why we eat certain things sometimes?”

“Yeah, that’s right kiddo.”

The door to the kitchen opened, bringing with it a burst of cold air. Stamping feet immediately followed as Ruth looked up to her husband and two sons. Snow clung to their hair and Conor had taken off his glasses to wipe away the fog.

“Got the potatoes you asked for,” Conor announced, lifting up a big bag.

“Conor, how many potatoes did you get?” Ruth asked.

A sheepish look appeared on Conor’s face. “Five pounds.”

#hp12mom #sara o'donnell #barbaby lee #saraby #sara x barnaby #ruth lyman #naomi o’donnell #hphm #hogwarts mystery #my writing #my aesthetic #researched a bit about judaism for ruth’s description to naomi but idk how well it went #and ruth is more of a secular jew #intended for there to be a third scene but couldn’t get up to it so here’s these two at the last possible moment #also featuring the fact that i don’t have an adult!ruth fc

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the-al-chemist · 2 years

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Artemis Hexley and the Circle of Khanna

Chapter 20: The Sunken Vault

A/N: it’s time to face the final Cursed Vault, but is Artemis really ready for what’s inside? Warnings: scenes of violence and trauma, flashbacks, mild horror, mentions of murder.

Mr Maestro was as good as his word. On the final day of the month, after the summer term had already started and Bill had set off to Uganda on his expedition with Gringotts, Artemis received a heavy parcel in the morning post.

“Early birthday present?” asked Tonks.

“In a way,” Artemis replied, able to feel the frame of the lyre through the packaging. “We need to have a meeting with the rest of the Circle of Khanna. Penny, do you reckon you could let everyone know to meet at lunchtime?”

When it came to spreading news, no one was better than Penny Haywood. By lunchtime, the whole of the Circle of Khanna knew to meet at the lakeshore.

“We’ve got the lyre fixed,” Artemis told them. “We can go to the final Vault now. Not right now, Barnaby,” she added, and Barnaby stopped removing his shoes. “I mean later.”

“Later today?”

“Yeah, we could,” Artemis nodded, gnawing at her lower lip as she looked across the lake, in the direction of Hogsmeade station. “So, I know Bill isn’t going to be able to come with us, but I’ve spoken to my brother and he’s offered to help. He’s worried about how safe this is going to be, especially with so many of us going. He wanted it to be just him and me, but-”

“Typical,” muttered Merula, glaring at Artemis.

“I’m sorry?”

“I said that this is just typical,” Merula repeated. “You get all of us involved and then go ditch us to do your own thing as soon as your brother is involved.”

“Actually, that wasn’t what I was going to suggest at all,” said Artemis. “I actually told Jacob that you should come to the Vault, Merula. Rakepick trained you up just as much as she did me.”

Merula’s violet eyes widened. “You did?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. I mean, I did want all of you to come, but Jacob said that we shouldn’t draw too much attention to ourselves, and he’s got a point.”

“In case Rakepick is still about?”

“Well, yeah, but it’s not just her. The dementors are still around, the Aurors are looking for him as well as Rakepick, and Dumbledore has told us to leave the Vaults alone. Now that term’s started again, it’s going to look suspicious, all of us diving into the lake, especially with my brother as well.”

“So, what are you suggesting?”

“Some of us need to stay behind to either distract the teachers or keep watch.”

“Tonks and I can set up some distractions,” said Tulip, smirking to herself. “I’ve already got a couple of ideas.”

“Anything I can help with?” Jae asked.

“Almost certainly.”

“Well, that’s that settled,” Artemis nodded. “Anyone else got a preference?”

“I don’t mind keeping watch,” offered Badeea. “There’s an excellent view of the lakeshore from Ravenclaw tower. Andre, Talbott, you could stay with me?”

“I’ll keep watch, but I’d rather do it from the air,” Talbott said quietly. “Alone.”

“Me, Liz, Ismelda, Charlie, and Alanza can stay behind to deal with the Grindylows,” said Barnaby. “And if there’s any trouble with any baddies or anything, Diego and I can fight them, too.”

“That’s… um… great, Barnaby. Thanks.”

“Chiara and I will stay behind at the Hospital Wing in case anyone gets hurt and needs healing,” Penny suggested, looking at Barnaby out of the corner of her eyes. “I’m rather good at Wiggenweld potions, if I do say so myself.”

“And it means we can keep an eye on the statue curse victims. If they get back to normal, we’ll know you’ve managed it.”

“Good point,” Artemis nodded at Chiara before turning to the remaining member of the group. “That just leaves you, Ben. What do you fancy doing?”

Ben frowned silently, his eyes fixed on the silt at his feet. Eventually, he looked up. When he did, he looked straight at Artemis.

“I want to go to the Cursed Vault,” he said, and Artemis blinked.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Ben nodded. “It seems right to go. The first time we found anything to do with the Vaults, it was you and me and Rowan. It was the three of us in the beginning, and now we are ending the Curses once and for all, I… I want to be there to do it. Actually there. For Rowan.”

Artemis swallowed and gave Ben a small smile. She looked around the Circle of Khanna, before fixing her eyes on the still surface of the Black Lake.

“For Rowan.”

With the lyre fixed and a plan in place, everything was ready. As night began to fall over the Hogwarts grounds, the Circle of Khanna took to their positions. Standing on the lakeshore with Ben and Merula, Artemis fired red sparks into the dusky air.

She shivered as she waited for Jacob, though the evening was not cold. What if he didn’t show up? What if he had been hurt, or captured, or had changed his mind? What if he let her down again? The few minutes following her signal seemed to last an age, and the longer she waited, the more she found herself pushing back her sense of panic. He would be there. He had promised that he would be there.

Jacob kept his promise. Just as Artemis was considering going down the secret passageway to find him herself, he emerged from the boathouse with his head lowered and his hood up, his wand tightly clutched in his hand.

“Three of you?” he asked, frowning at Ben and Merula, the latter of whom glowered at him. He glanced at Artemis before nodding his head. “Okay then. No time like the present. Let’s return this lyre.”

"We need to find Alanza first, she’s the one who can speak-”

“I can negotiate with the merpeople,” said Jacob, and he smirked at the confused look on Artemis’ face. “What? You really think I never bothered to teach myself a little Mermish?”

He winked and Artemis rolled her eyes as she followed him to the jetty, Merula and Ben in tow. One by one, they cast the bubblehead charm and jumped into the water. Beneath the surface, the water was just as murky as it had been earlier that month.

“Where did you meet the merfolk before?”

“Near here,” said Artemis, her voice muffled in spite of how loudly she was trying to speak. “We went that way, and then they just turned up.”

“Then let’s go that way.”

They walked along the bed of the lake, further into the deep water than they had been when the merpeople had found them before. They must have reached a settlement of sorts, presumably where the merfolk lived, for they started to see signs of habitation: huts made of driftwood, tools lain on the floor, rocks carved into statues, and strings of shells and pebbles hanging like garlands.

“It’s a village,” said Ben. “Are you sure we’re allowed to be here?”

Either Jacob hadn’t heard Ben or was ignoring him, for he was already starting to call out in Mermish. Though Artemis couldn’t understand his words, she could hear them clearly, and so must have the merfolk, for several mermen and mermaids emerged from the huts. As a few of them picked up their weapons, Jacob spoke hurriedly, and gestured to the lyre that Artemis was holding in her arms. After a brief exchange of words and an ever briefer flurry of activity, a younger-looking merman was sent away, only to return a few moments later with the merman who had given them the lyre.

The merman eyed Jacob sceptically, and held out one hand to Artemis without saying a word. She handed him the instrument, and he examined it closely before calling to two of his peers and giving them instructions.

“We need to follow them,” said Jacob, nodding at the two merfolk. “They will take us to the Vault.”

“How do you say thank you in Mermish?” Artemis asked, and once Jacob had said the phrase she repeated it slowly and carefully to the Merchief, who inclined his head and waved her on her way.

Artemis, Jacob, Merula, and Ben travelled a long distance through the water, or at least it felt that way. The two merpeople who had been tasked with guiding them to the Cursed Vault were powerful swimmers, and it was tiring trying - and failing - to match their pace. When they eventually slowed down, Artemis assumed that the merpeople had realised that the humans were struggling to follow them, but instead they turned to Jacob and spoke to him, gesturing into the distance.

“What’s the matter? What’s going on?”

“They won’t go any further. They’re too afraid.”

The merpeople did look skittish, their grey skin paler than when they had set off and a tremor to their voices that hadn’t been present back at the village. Artemis sighed.

“So now what?” she asked, and Jacob nodded in the direction in which the merfolk had been gesturing.

“We have to go that way. They said we are looking for a cave.”

“Did they say what the cave looks like?”

“No. Only that it feels evil,” said Jacob, his face grim in the greenish glow of the water. “Sounds like it’s the right place, anyway.”

Artemis thanked their guides, who swam away even faster than they had been swimming before, leaving a rush of small silver bubbles in their wake. The curse-breakers went ahead without them, following their instructions until the outline of something tall could be seen through the dark, dirty water ahead.

“Is that-”

“The cave? It must be.”

As they approached it, the shape became clearer. It was a tall pile of stones, extending from a deep ravine in the floor of the lake towards the surface, towering over the completely still inky water around it.

“Is it just me,” said Ben, “or is the water cleaner here?”

“It’s because there’s nothing living here,” Merula replied, looking around at the now crystal-clear water. “Nothing alive wants to be near that Vault.”

“What do you think is inside?”

Ben’s question went unanswered, neither Artemis nor Merula able to think what might provoke such a strong reaction, or such a feeling of intense evil. Beatrice Haywood’s words echoed through Artemis’ mind as she looked towards the rocks.

That’s the worst one of all of them… Every time I try to swim away, it’s like I’m being pulled back down…

There was an opening within the rock formation, and they swam in, finding themselves in a wide cave, which had yet another opening to a smaller, darker cave. Stepping inside, Artemis saw that the walls were dripping, and water was pooling at her feet.

“Hang on,” she said, surprised at how loud her voice sounded. “We aren’t underwater anymore!”

She removed her Bubblehead charm and took a deep breath, feeling the stagnant, clammy air enter her lungs.

“How does that work?” Ben asked, following suit. “We are still underwater, why-”

“It’s magic, Copper, you moron.”

Artemis shrugged apologetically at Ben and followed Merula to another gap in the rock formation. She lit her wand and shone it inside, revealing yet another smaller cave.

“How long does this go on for, do you think?” she murmured, knowing fully well that the only way to find out would be to keep moving through the rocks, deeper into the system of caves.

The four of them did just that, following the path through the enchanted rocks, through the caves which got smaller and smaller, until they reached a dead end.

“This must be it,” said Artemis, and Jacob nodded. He stepped back, and gestured for Artemis to take the lead. She raised her wand. “Revelio!”

She had expected another opening to form in the rocks, or for a door to appear, like in the previous Cursed Vaults. What she hadn’t expected was the rumbling of the ground and the walls of the cave, for the whole space around her to shift, for the rocks to move so that they formed seven walls, or for a glowing golden column to rise from the centre. They had not just found the opening to the Cursed Vault, they were already inside it.

“But there’s nothing guarding it,” whispered Artemis, more to herself than anyone else. She frowned. The relative ease with which they had reached the vault made her feel uneasy. “It should be fighting back.”

“Try and open it,” said Jacob, also looking somewhat sceptical. Artemis stepped forward to touch the column, and he grabbed her wrist, pulling her back forcefully. “Legilimency first!”

Artemis nodded, and wriggled free of Jacob’s grip, which had been so tight that it had left pink marks. She stared at the glowing crystal, willing it to open…

But it did not. She shrugged. “Looks like I’m just going to have to touch it, doesn’t it?”

“No, Artemis, wait-”

Jacob fell silent the second Artemis’ palm made contact with the cool surface of the column, which immediately stopped glowing. Without the glow of the column, the Vault was pitch black. Artemis frowned and waved her hand in front of her face. She could not see it.

“Jacob?” She called out, but there was no response. “Merula? Ben?”

Silence. Silence and darkness. She shuddered, suddenly feeling more afraid and hopeless than she had ever felt in her life, surrounded only by the endless expanse of nothingness.

Then, she heard a voice. She stepped towards the sound, straining to see who was there.

“Jacob?”

It was Jacob, but he was taller than before and younger looking, too. When he knelt down, his eyes were level with hers.

“I’ll be back at Christmas,” he told her, and she felt a tear running down her cheek. “And I’ll write to you every week until then, I promise.”

“Why can’t I come with you?” Artemis found herself asking, her voice more childlike than usual. “I want to go, too.”

“You will one day, Missy,” said Jacob, wiping her cheek and ruffling her hair. “Take care of mum for me whilst I’m gone.”

He stepped away from her, and a hand on her shoulder stopped her from following him. There was the sound of a whistle, and the smell of smoke, the gentle chugging sound of a train… As the sound faded and Jacob disappeared, Artemis saw a stone archway standing on a daïs in front of her. Before she could stop them, her feet were carrying her towards it.

“ARTEMIS, NO!”

A woman’s voice, and a familiar one at that. She stopped dead in her tracks and turned around, but no one was there. She was all alone, surrounded by doors. She reached up to open one, but it was locked. Her heart started beating fast, there were shouts and crashes behind her, and she was scared. She stepped backwards and the doors began to spin around her, so fast she felt dizzy, and she screwed her eyes shut. When she opened them again, the doors had gone.

Her mother stood in front of her, her face pale and eyes puffy. Jacob was beside her, a grim expression on his face. They both looked young, though Jacob was not as young as he had been before, when the train had been there. She frowned, and her mother nodded her head, tears welling in her eyes.

“Ma?” she asked, and Sara Hexley closed her eyes. “Jacob?”

Jacob pointed his wand at her, and the darkness returned. In the distance, fireworks were bursting in the sky. Artemis lowered her gaze, and saw Jacob on the street outside her house. He raised a hand to her and walked away to the end of the street, disappearing between the flashes of two fireworks. She was alone, and she was crying, and a blackbird was flying, flying away from her… And her mother wouldn’t hug her, or even look at her, and Reggie the Muggle was packing up his boat, and she felt abandoned all over again. The darkness settled over her once more, and something grabbed her ankle.

“Rowan, it’s got me!” she shouted, desperately trying to fight against the thick vines that were reaching out from the darkness and grabbing her, trapping her, ensnaring her…

Suddenly she was free, but when she looked down, Fergus’ tiny body was limp in her arms. She looked up, and Rowan was hit by a bolt of ice. Artemis ran to her, but she disappeared. Instead, there was a Boggart advancing on her, its face shifting between Jacob’s and her own as it moved closer through the darkness. It’s features changed again, and it was Fenrir Greyback. A red cloak appeared over it, and it raised its wand. Charlie fell to the ground, and so did Rowan. Artemis looked back and the cloak was lifted to reveal Ben Copper’s face. She shook her head, and Rowan was in Ben’s place.

“Your friends are already a part of this,” said Rowan, her eyes glazed and voice monotonous. “Before the end of this year, one of them has to die.”

A jet of red light hit Rowan in the chest and Artemis turned to see Rakepick sitting calmly at her desk, her wand pointed at Artemis. There was another flash of light and Artemis watched her wand split apart in her hands. She snapped her head back up to Rakepick, who was now on her feet.

“Crucio.”

A man writhed on the floor in front of Artemis, and so did Merula, both of them were in pain, so much pain, and they were screaming, and so was Artemis, as Jacob walked away from her again, and Bill sailed away across the lake on a boat with his friends.

“I’m not Bill,” said a voice behind her - Charlie’s voice.

“I wish you were,” Artemis said, but she didn’t mean to say it, she didn’t mean it at all, but she had said it, and now Charlie was hurt and he was walking away from her, too.

She went to run after him, but everything went dark again. That horrible feeling of unending despair had taken over her once more. She was in the forest, and it was cold. A dementor floated in front of her, and try as she might, she could not cast her patronus.

But someone else could. Rakepick. She raised her wand and pointed it at Ben, but Rowan jumped out from the trees and they both fell, and Artemis ran towards them, and Rowan was in her arms and she was gone, gone, gone…

A hand took hold of Artemis’ own, and Rowan really was gone, and so was the forest. Artemis was in the Cursed Vault, which was no longer quite so dark. She looked down at her hand and up at the person who was holding it.

“Come on, Hexley,” said Merula, pulling her across to where Ben Copper was stumbling around as if he were blind, shaking and crying silently.

Merula placed her other hand into Ben’s and though he continued to shake, he blinked at his surroundings, clearly able to see them.

“What… What was that?” he asked, a distinct tremor in his voice.

“That was the Vault fighting back.”

Artemis took a deep shaky breath and looked for Jacob. He had his hands placed to his head and was murmuring to himself under his breath.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he whispered into his palms. Artemis reached out and took one of his hands in hers, and as she did, he blinked. “Artemis?”

“We need to get out of here,” said Artemis, looking at the column with contempt. “This place, it’s… We can’t stay here.”

Jacob frowned and nodded. He raised his wand and pointed it at the wall that had previously been the opening in the rock formation.

“Bombarda!”

The wall exploded, with pieces of rock flying out into the cave outside the Vault. Back in the cave, Merula quickly let go of Artemis and Ben’s hands.

“Well?” Artemis asked them. “Do you still… Has it stopped?”

Merula nodded, and Artemis let go of Jacob’s hand. The visions from inside the Vault did not return, but she still felt shaken.

“That was awful,” said Ben. “Did the rest of you see that? All the worst things that have ever happened to you?” Artemis nodded, and he frowned at the Vault. “Did you feel it, too? Like you’d never feel anything good again?”

“I felt it,” Artemis told him, before turning to look at Jacob. “We need to break the curse. How do we do it?”

“I don’t know.”

Merula blinked at Jacob. “You don’t know?”

“No,” replied Jacob, simply.

“But you’re the one with all that research! You spent all those years studying the Vaults. You spent years inside one of the Vaults. How can you not know?”

“It’s not like I could go to the library when I was stuck in there, is it?” Jacob snapped at Merula, and her violet eyes widened. He immediately softened. “Sorry. But there is a reason that I don’t know. No one does, that’s the issue. No one has broken this Vault before, if they had…”

“Then the Cursed Vaults wouldn’t still be here,” Artemis finished her brother’s sentence for him. “So, what do we do? We’ve got to try something.”

“We’ll need to go back inside,” said Jacob, frowning at the glowing column. “It would be worth you trying Legilimency again. If not, there might be a clue inside the Vault itself. Worst case scenario, we can seal it.”

“Seal it?”

“Close it.”

“We all know what sealing means,” Merula muttered. “But last time we had to open it up. How is doing the opposite going to help?”

“It will stop the curse’s effect. It’s what Patricia did after I got stuck last time. It was too late for me, but… The problem is, it means that the curse won’t be properly broken. You won’t have any more statues, but I don’t know about the people who are already statues.”

“Okay, that’s fine,” said Artemis. “We can stop more people getting hurt, look into how to get past this curse, and come back another day to save everyone else.”

But Jacob shook his head.

“It’s not that simple,” he told her. “The Vaults are sequential. If you fail to open one and seal it instead, you have to start over. That’s why I left the trail for you to follow, I couldn’t get you to free me from the Buried Vault without opening the others first.”

“But even if we do have to open them all, it will still buy us some time to find out how to break it properly.”

From the other side of the cave came a low chuckle, one that sounded familiar in Artemis’ ears and made her blood run cold. She wasn’t the only one to react. Merula’s face paled, Ben looked nauseated, and Jacob grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her back behind him.

“I think it is obvious how to break the curse,” said Patricia Rakepick, stepping across the cave towards them, her eyes on Jacob, who tightened his grip on Artemis’ arm. “You can’t protect her forever, Jacob.”

“No,” Jacob said, a note of fear in his voice. “You promised not to hurt her. You promised that-”

“I promised that I would try it your way,” Rakepick told him. “You have tried it your way. Now, we go back to my plan. To R’s plan.��

“We can try again. She can try again. She can do it, she’s the one to do it.”

“Clearly not.”

“Patricia, please don’t do this. I’ll do anything.”

Jacob’s voice was almost cracking with emotion. Rakepick sighed deeply, and a flicker of something softer than disappointment entered her usually callous eyes.

“How many more people would you have die for this, Hexley?” she asked him.

“None,” replied Jacob, shaking his head “No more. And not her. Not Artemis, please. She can do it, trust me.”

Rakepick laughed, a harsh sound. “Oh, Jacob. I don’t think there’s a single person alive or dead who trusts you anymore.”

She raised her wand, and Jacob drew his, stepping in front of Artemis to shield her. But before either of them had the chance to cast the first spell, there was a shout from across the cave.

“INCARCERUS!”

With a flash of light, Merula had pointed her wand at Madam Rakepick and conjured a thick rope that coiled around her chest, binding her arms to her sides.

“Bet you wish you’d never taught us that spell, Professor,” Merula sneered, lowering her wand slowly and staring at Rakepick with look of mingled disgust and fury. Rakepick cocked a sardonic eyebrow.

“Well,” she said quietly, a smirk playing on her lips. “Looks like you can fly after all, little bird.”

Merula blinked. “What?”

But before Rakepick could answer, Ben pointed his wand at her, and silently issued a red flash of light that hit her square in the chest and knocked her unconscious. Artemis and Merula stared at him.

“She can use wandless magic, remember?” he said. “We don’t want her doing what she did in the Vault last year.”

“Good thinking,” Artemis nodded, her front teeth grazing her lower lip. “Right. We don’t have much time, so we’re just going to have to seal the Vault and hope for the best. We have to take Rakepick to the Aurors. She deserves to go to prison for what she did to Rowan.”

“She deserves worse than that,” Merula muttered, her eyebrows still furrowed deeply. “We should kill her.”

“Merula!”

“She would have done the same to you, Hexley.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t make it right,” Artemis said, and she turned to Jacob. “Does it?”

“No, it doesn’t,” her brother agreed with a sigh. “Besides, she knows so much about the Cursed Vaults. More than almost anyone. We can’t let that knowledge go to waste, especially if you want to seal the Vault and try again another time.”

“I do.”

“Then we can’t kill her,” Jacob said, simply. He raised his eyebrows slightly. “But we could… No.”

“What?”

“Well, we could shut her in the Vault before we seal it.”

“In there?” Artemis frowned and looked at the Vault. “But, those visions…”

“It will keep her alive and on hand to break the final curse,” Jacob reasoned. “She might be more amenable to the idea of helping us after a stint in that place.”

“Or she might be even more unhinged than she is already!”

“Patricia is a lot of things, Artemis. Unhinged isn’t one of them.”

“I think it’s a great idea, personally,” said Merula. “No less than she deserves.”

“No. No one deserves that. Not even Rakepick,” Artemis said, decisively. “We do what Ben says. We give her to the Aurors. And we seal the Vault. If everyone that’s been a statue comes back to life, brilliant. If not, we can visit Rakepick in Azkaban prison and ask her how to break the curse properly another time.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Now, let’s seal this thing and get back to the shore.”

When they returned to the shore, a still bound and unconscious Rakepick in tow, they found a larger welcome party than they had expected gathered by the water’s edge: the entire Circle of Khanna, Professors Dumbledore and Snape, and a handful of witches and wizards in Aurors’ uniforms, one of whom Artemis recognised as Mad-Eye Moody, the Auror who had interviewed her in the Hospital Wing in December. As Artemis, Jacob, Merula, and Ben emerged from the water, his magical blue eye fixed on Rakepick, and he strode over to meet them.

“So, these teenagers are telling the truth,” he said gruffly, casting a look over his shoulder at the Circle of Khanna. “Patricia Rakepick really did enter the lake this evening. Though it looks like we weren’t really needed to apprehend the criminal after all. Stunning charm?” he asked, looking between Artemis, Merula and Ben as Jacob lowered his gaze to the floor, his dark hair casting a shadow over half of his face. When the other three nodded, Moody looked mildly impressed. “Good work, Miss Hexley.”

“Oh no,” said Artemis. “It was all Merula and Ben, really.”

But Moody did not seem to care who had truly caught Rakepick, for he did not say another word before he pointed his wand at her, and she awoke looking mildly dazed.

“Patricia Rakepick, my name is Alastor Moody. I am placing you under arrest - once again - for your involvement with the criminal organisation ‘R’, and for the murder of Rowan Khanna. You will be sent to Azkaban prison until the time comes for you to be trialled by the Wizengamot for your crimes, and if found guilty, you shall remain in Azkaban for the entirety of your sentence.”

He held on to one of Rakepick’s bound arms and escorted her back across the shore to the rest of the Aurors. As he walked away, Artemis felt a hand on her upper arm.

“Artemis, look at me,” said Jacob, and she did. He bent down slightly so that his eyes were level with hers. “You trust me, don’t you? No matter what happens, or what anyone says?”

Artemis frowned, but nodded her head. “Why?”

Jacob did not reply, but he kissed Artemis on the top of her head and squeezed her upper arms before straightening up and following Mad Eye Moody, taking large strides in an attempt to catch up with the Auror.

“Wait!” Jacob called out, and when Moody stopped and turned around, he threw his wand down at his feet and held his hands up at the level of his shoulders. “My name is Jacob Odysseus Hexley. I was also involved with the criminal organisation ‘R’, and I was responsible for the death of Duncan Ashe in 1981.”

“No,” Artemis said, and realising she had said the word out loud, she repeated it, louder this time. “NO!”

But neither Jacob nor Moody, nor any of the other Aurors paid her any attention. Jacob was bound and escorted away, leaving Artemis to watch, powerless, as her brother left her once more.

#artemis hexley #hogwarts mystery #hphm fic #hphm #jacob hexley #merula snyde #ben copper #nymphadora tonks #penny haywood #chiara lobosca #barnaby lee #tulip kasaru #jae kim #badeea ali #talbott winger #patricia rakepick

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carewyncromwell · 1 year

Text

Hey. Hey, Jam City. I have a bone to pick with you, about this new Pumpkin Johnny quest and your so-called “lesson” we’re supposed to learn from it.

Namely -- that it’s absolute rubbish.

Look -- I truly, truly do see what Jam City is trying to say here: two wrongs don’t make a right, blah blah blah, treat your enemies better than they’d treat you, sure. But here’s the thing -- the story of Pumpkin Johnny? No way in Hell is that its moral. Hagrid tells the story thusly --

This isn’t a story about the wrongness of hurting people, regardless of who they are -- it’s a cautionary tale against bullying! It’s a tale reminding people that having a laugh at someone’s expense can have real consequences! Hell, the ending warning involves Johnny coming back to “take revenge” on whomever calls him with that insulting nickname that so upset him. This ghost is trying to teach me a lesson about letting bygones be bygones?? This ghost is trying to teach me that I should forgive the people bullying me because hey, somebody’s gotta be the better person??

Hell, even Hagrid HIMSELF admits that the reason he told his story was to make a point about the wrongness of bullying and making fun of people. He told the story all because Merula was picking on Ben!

So the “lesson” we should take away from Pumpkin Johnny is to not make fun of people. To not bully people. A lesson that Merula clearly did not take to heart, since she immediately pulled this crap.

Right. She takes this story that is supposed to be about the wrongness of bullying...and uses it to terrorize her fellow classmates, just for a laugh. And yet at the end of the story, we’re supposed to feel guilty when we give that no-good bully a taste of her own medicine by giving her and Ismelda a fright? (By just standing in front of them, by the way -- MC prevented Tonks from truly taking revenge by hexing Merula and Ismelda’s heads into pumpkins.) Even if Ismelda twisted her ankle, which is objectively not good, that’s easy enough to fix with magic...and considering that Penny fainted and Barnaby hit his head pretty bad when Ismelda/Merula attacked them with infinitely more mean-spirited intentions, they’re really in no place to give us grief for that. And yet at the end of the quest, who is the one who is supposed to have learned a lesson here?

The person who tried to stop the bully terrorizing the school by dressing up as a ghost who literally came about because of bullying. The person who -- if you look at the story Hagrid told objectively -- took a leaf out of Pumpkin Johnny’s own playbook, by scaring the bullies who had made his school career so miserable.

Excuse me?! I damn well hope you’re asking Merula this same question, Pumpkin Johnny -- oh -- oh, wait, though, you don’t have to -- because if you actually dare to hold Merula accountable for her actions and tell Dumbledore what she did regardless of what punishment you might get assigned yourself, this is how she reacts!!

Once again, Jam City refuses to let Merula learn a bloody lesson or accept some bloody consequences for her actions, ADS;FHIUGWISG;GNUQGVIQ

I will at least give credit that Merula didn’t shatter Hagrid’s pumpkins (which definitely influenced Carewyn’s decision to turn her in -- you do NOT destroy other people’s property, especially property belonging to Carewyn’s friends, did you learn nothing from last time, Ismelda?), but she still basically took advantage of other people’s misfortune and fear just to try to “get one over” on people who had done absolutely nothing to deserve it. And her actions ended up scaring not just the original targets of her bullying, but the rest of the students and even the teachers. So yeah -- again -- I don’t feel any regret whatsoever for Carewyn not “cutting a deal” with someone who objectively did something mean-spirited and wrong and didn’t even feel the least bit sorry for it.

The only way to stop bullying is to stand up to it. If Merula decides to take vengeance out on us, then she’ll meet even more consequences, which will be just as much her own fault as this is. And then, yeah, it’ll be crystal clear she didn’t learn the true lesson of Pumpkin Johnny -- that bullying is wrong, and the memory of the people you hurt can come back to haunt you for the wrongs you’ve committed against them.

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #gameplay #pumpkin johnny #halloween #anti-merula snyde #tagging just in case #merula snyde #ismelda murk #carewyn cromwell #ben copper

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yszarin · 1 year

Note

winternelson with: “Call me when you get home.”

[read on AO3] [send a prompt, get a fic in 1-5 business days]

Barnaby had hoped that his desk might be better. It isn’t worse, at least. He doubts anything could be worse than lurking around in that cold-lit hospital corridor like a premature haunting, nodding in splintered understanding as the doctors use words like critical and catastrophic, Sarah’s hand in his, gripping so tightly that he should have felt his knuckles crack.

It’s the same, in a different way, at the station. He’d needed to be useful, but there’s nothing left to do. Every officer available had descended on this investigation like locusts, stripping the possible tasks until every scrap of evidence had been collected and examined and compiled into a neat little report that tells him that they’re still no closer to determining who had left Winter for dead, bleeding and broken in the gathering frost.

Ground too cold for tyre tracks, no cameras for miles, any potential witnesses bundled up indoors the way anyone sensible should be on a freezing January night. Nothing from forensics at the scene, though they’re testing for fingerprints on all the nearby gates, and they’re still waiting on full analysis of Winter’s personal effects.

No wonder that no one in the incident room seems to want to come anywhere near him.

Maybe he should just go back to the hospital. He’d be just as much use there. It’s not as if Fleur would welcome his presence in the lab.

A chime from his email heralds the arrival of Winter’s phone records, and Barnaby pounces on it with the speed and desperation of a starving crow at carrion. The data spools out across his screen, lists of calls and numbers, reams of texts, enough to make his computer wheeze for a moment as it adjusts.

Barnaby had sent him two messages, that night. He hadn’t really noticed that Winter never answered either of them. Maybe, if he had, they might have–

He swallows against the sting in his throat, and clicks into the file of voicemails, before leaning down to excavate his headphones from the depths of his drawer, yanking at the wire as it tangles, again and again, no relief in the dull force of it. Once they’re finally free, he plugs himself in, and hits play on the first one.

“Hi, Jamie, it’s Charlie.” The voice at the other end is so familiar that it takes Barnaby a moment to register the actual words being spoken, his jaw slackening. “Sorry to ring in work hours. Turns out I’ve got some leave coming up, and I thought maybe I could come down. Or we could go somewhere together, if you like. Call me when you get home.”

Nelson. Barnaby blinks against the hang-up tone, and for a long minute his body feels simply too heavy to move. He doesn’t know what he’d wanted. A confession, perhaps, a name for Winter’s assailant. A clear, plain-English explanation for what had happened, what he’d even been doing out there in the first place.

Not this. Not something personal. Not something so personal that he’d had no idea about it himself.

He’d been aware, he supposes, that Nelson and Winter know one another. They’d met at Sarah’s last birthday do, and a couple of times since, on the odd occasion that Nelson had come visiting. If pressed, he might have said that they’d got on, but he’d spent the lion’s share of that party either doing the rounds or hiding in the kitchen with Paddy, and he couldn’t say how much of that belief was just a vague awareness of shared interests. He remembers them sitting together, Winter sprawled in a garden chair like it’s an art form, gesturing with a champagne glass, Nelson straight-backed, smile slow but sincere.

Winter had never mentioned him. Yet here they are. First name terms, making plans.

Barnaby shifts the mouse to select the next message, and can’t help his focus drifting past the monitor, to Winter’s empty desk. It watches him back, a hollow monument, and he clamps his teeth together at the sudden impulse to make excuses to it. There still might be something in here that could help. He has to check.

“Hello, me again. Working late? I did try texting, and messaging, but I suppose you’re out in the sticks somewhere, and the second you get back to Causton I’ll have drowned you in notifications.” Nelson pauses for a moment, and Barnaby grimaces. The sticks isn’t inaccurate. They’d found him miles from anywhere, a pale gash amongst the bramble and hedgerow of a field boundary. Barnaby hadn’t seen him there, though he’d passed the ambulance on his way out. There had been enough of a picture left, in crushed grass stems and bloodstains, the skeletal branches of a handful of trees jagged overhead like the roof of a shattered cathedral. “I swear, Midsomer won’t get proper phone coverage until it’s obsolete everywhere else. Anyway, they did all go out at normal intervals. Look, this holiday thing, it’s not urgent, they just want me to book it as soon as I can. Hope whatever’s going on isn’t too grim. Call me when you can.”

There’s an unease, gathering in the low points of Nelson’s voice, papered over and rationalised, but still clear enough to Barnaby. A fear that he couldn’t quite stifle.

One that Barnaby will have to confirm. Someone else he loves, who this will punch a hole in. At least he hadn’t had to tell Fleur – she’d already been at the scene when he’d got there, tearing into some poor uniform for something, as if she could make up for the blotching on her face with the sharpness of her teeth. Sarah had been there when he’d taken the call, and they’d felt it together.

He can’t even be sure that Nelson will be an end to it, not when Winter’s personal life is apparently more immaculately compartmented than Barnaby’s sock drawer. Nothing hidden, just neatly never spoken of.

“Jamie,” Nelson says, in the next voicemail, a shade more urgent, control wavering. “Call me. Don’t make me try Barnaby.”

That certainly would have been an interesting conversation. Though, from the timestamp, not one that would have made any difference. They’d had the call by then. Dog-walker. She’d thought he was dead already. Barnaby had taken her statement, the odd-eyed collie that might have saved his sergeant’s life sitting patiently, obliviously by her side. He’ll have to tell Nelson that, too, make sure he understands that there was nothing he could have done.

Barnaby clicks through again, despite the flat, heavy certainty in his bones that there’ll be nothing here, nothing that’s his to hear.

“You’re not getting these, are you? I don’t know why I keep sending them.” Nelson drags in a breath, raw over the faint static of the line. “I checked the local news. I need you to call me, text me, I don’t care, send me a carrier pigeon, I’m sure someone still has those down there, just tell me that wasn’t you.”

Barnaby hasn’t seen the reports. Someone else – the chief superintendent, probably – had spoken to the press. He’d been sitting on one of those hospital chairs, listening to Sarah’s breathing hitching beside him, waiting to hear Winter’s odds on lasting the night.

Last one.

“So, I’m on my way down. Nearly called Sarah about eight times. Not sure what I’ll do if you’re okay – surprise visit, I suppose. That wouldn’t be so bad, would it?” There’s a thud of a car door from somewhere, a distant muttering of other voices, Nelson’s cracking quieter in response. “I started picking up Radio Midsomer in the car. They’ve still not given a name, so–” He cuts himself off, half-sigh and half-sob. “I love you. I’ll see you soon.”

Barnaby wrenches the headphones off like a noose from round his neck, and then presses his face into his hands, hard enough that false light sparks across the backs of his eyelids. Something about the way that Nelson had said I love you had felt like it was the first time. Evidence, he thinks, and hates it.

He pulls his phone out, so numb that it doesn’t even really feel like an action that he takes, then scrolls down to his lesser-used contacts, and makes the call.

Nelson picks up within a second of the first ring.

“Sir?” His voice is taut, aching. He knows what’s coming, would have taken it as confirmation that Winter was the police officer he’d heard about on the news the second he’d seen Barnaby’s name on the phone screen.

“Are you driving?”

“Pulled over.”

He hadn’t meant it as a traffic safety admonishment, and hopes Nelson hadn’t taken it that way.

“We had to access Winter’s phone,” he says, and then stops. Gives that a moment to settle in, for Nelson to grasp what it means, for the turning of guilt in his stomach to subside. “I’m sorry, Nelson.”

“Is he…?”

“They’re doing their best.” It might not be enough. “You shouldn’t have found out like that.”

“Causton Hospital?”

“Yes. How close are you?”

“About an hour. Give or take.”

“Sarah and I will meet you there.” And he’ll grant Nelson the dignity of telling Sarah about the relationship himself, he decides. He’ll check over the rest of Winter’s phone records, excepting his message history with Nelson, and then make his way back to the hospital. “We’ll you soon.”

“Yes, sir.” Nelson pauses, the silence thick with everything that he’s stifled back into his throat. “Thank you, sir.”

Nelson rings off, before Barnaby can tell him he doesn’t deserve that, and then he’s left alone in the incident room, at the centre of a wasteland of hush that no one here would cross. He swallows, strikes the damp from around his eyes, and makes himself focus in on the screen again. This, and then he’ll make sure that Nelson doesn’t spend another second of this alone.

It’s not as if there’s anything more he can do, for either of them.

#midsomer murders #fanfic #winternelson #john barnaby #charlie nelson #aftermath of violence #cw: hospital #thanks flammen! <3

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