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helloalycia · 3 years

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my patient’s neighbour [four] // wanda maximoff

summary: taking Wanda to meet your parents wasn't the best decision in hindsight...

warning/s: none i don't think?

author's note: i’m not sure what to say other than sorry in advance oops

The restaurant my parents chose wasn't too flashy but rather comforting and homely, with an Italian theme and matching cuisine. It was bustling with people, but it didn't take long for Wanda and I to find my parents sat at the back waiting for us.

"You gonna be okay?" I asked, glancing at her with a comforting squeeze of the hand.

"I've got you, haven't I?" she asked playfully, her accent thicker than usual as she spoke. And though she was joking, I knew there was truth to her words which sent the butterflies in my stomach into a frenzy.

"You're cute," I said with adoration, appreciating how lovely her eyes looked in the dimly-lit restaurant. "Come on."

Hand in hand, we approached my parents' table and I had hopes that tonight would go well. My parents weren't exactly intimidating – at least anyone I'd ever known hadn't got that impression – but I still worried for Wanda. Unlike her, I couldn't read minds, so I couldn't tell if she was actually looking forward to tonight or if she was just doing it for me.

"Y/N, you're here!" my mum exclaimed with a grin when she spotted me.

"I am," I said with a nervous smile, before motioning to Wanda. "And so is Wanda, my girlfriend."

"Yes, Y/N mentioned you would be coming," my mum said with a friendly smile, looking to Wanda, before motioning to the table. "Please, sit, sit."

I squeezed Wanda's hand gently before pulling out a chair for her. She smiled at me appreciatively before I took a seat beside her, facing my parents.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Wanda," my dad said with a nod. "Y/N mentioned you plenty of times when we'd call to catch up with her."

"You, too," Wanda spoke politely. "Both of you. Y/N told me that you're travelling the world, is that right?"

I leaned on my hand and glanced at Wanda, who shot me a mischievous smile. Quirking a brow, I mentally applauded her. Getting my parents to talk about their travels was an easy way of bonding with them – they would tell every server and customer in this restaurant about their travelling if they could. She'd cracked them instantly.

I'm just that good, milashka (cutie).

Trying not to laugh as her words echoed in my mind because of her powers, I leaned back into my seat and listened in as my parents went into a ramble about their ongoing adventures. This was pretty much how the rest of the evening went, as the four of us dined on expensive wine and delicious pizza. They seemed to be getting along well, with Wanda asking all the right questions and giving them her picture-perfect smile that impressed all the elders. Heck, she was even impressing me.

Naively, I appreciated how well the evening was going until my parents decided to talk to Wanda about her career.

"So, Y/N mentioned you're one of those Revengers," my mum remembered as we ate.

"Avengers," I corrected her, mildly embarrassed.

Wanda chuckled, glancing at me, before nodding. "Yes, I am. For over a year now, I've been working with them."

"Them being Iron Man, Captain America, the Black Widow...?" my dad asked, looking up as if trying to remember the rest, further embarrassing me.

"Those are the ones," Wanda quipped with a nod.

My mum hummed in response as my dad nodded before leaning back in his seat and eyeing Wanda curiously.

"I can't imagine your job is the safest," he began. "You protect people from threats, right? Keep them safe."

Wanda seemed caught off guard, but recovered quickly. "It's got it's... dangers, yes. But I can handle myself. I've got powers and I know how to use them."

"You do," my dad agreed, before his eyes flickered to me briefly. "But Y/N doesn't. She's just a regular human."

I set my fork down on my plate and looked to him calmly. "Dad, what are you saying?"

"No, it's fine," Wanda said reassuringly, resting her hand on my leg under the table. I grabbed it and held it as she continued to speak to my father. "Y/N doesn't have powers, you are correct."

"And dating an Avenger, I can imagine, must put a huge target on her back," he said with concern, and my mum nodded in agreement. "How can we be certain that she is safe?"

"Dad!"

"Your father is right, Y/N," my mum said, giving me a look, before her expression softened as she looked to a startled Wanda. "We're not implying that you're incapable, Wanda. We can clearly see that you care about our daughter. And you're a lovely person. You're pretty much perfect."

Wanda swallowed hard. "But?"

My mother frowned. "But dating you is bound to put our Y/N in danger. She could get hurt just for being involved with you, with your friends. She doesn't have powers to protect herself. And I can't imagine you're around her all the time to keep her safe."

As angry as I was at my parents for saying this stuff – even if they were saying it out of love – memories of the incident flashed to mind. They were right, but it was a risk I'd accepted when dating Wanda. What good was it doing by bringing this up now?

Noticing Wanda's silence, I spoke up instead. "I appreciate your concern, guys, but I'm an adult. I understand the danger I may be put in by being with Wanda. But I love her and I know that she is here for me if anything were to ever happen."

"We know," my father said, giving me a small nod. "We just thought we'd share our opinion anyway. It's been weighing on us for a while is all."

I sighed quietly. I couldn't exactly fault them for that.

"Anyway, never mind that," my mum said, setting down her fork. "Now that we've got that out the way, let's order some dessert, yeah? Our treat."

Nodding, I let my parents get excited as they perused the dessert menus before them. Instead, I looked to the quiet brunette beside me and saw how lost in thought she was, eyes focused on the table and stuck in a daydream.

With the hand that was holding hers, I patted her hand with my thumb to earn her attention. She looked up suddenly, questioning gaze falling to me. I frowned and quirked a brow, wondering if she was okay. She forced a smile my way, squeezing my hand reassuringly, but I didn't believe her. I also couldn't question it right in front of my parents, so I decided to speak with her later.

Dessert went by quickly as Wanda, suddenly, wasn't very talkative. I didn't know if my parents noticed, but I sure did and I felt extremely guilty. If I had known of my parents' concerns, I never would have brought Wanda to meet them tonight.

After the evening came to a close and we all stepped out of the restaurant, I expected to be going home with my parents since we lived together, but they claimed they had more plans together tonight.

"Wow, you guys have more of a social life than we do," I joked when they told me to make my own way home.

Wanda barely smiled and I felt bad.

"We'll be back in a few hours," my mum promised, before pulling me in for a hug. "Tonight was fun. A great final night before we leave tomorrow."

I returned the hug and as I gave my dad one, I heard Wanda thanking my mum for the lovely evening halfheartedly. After saying our final goodbyes, Wanda led me to her car in silence, giving me time to try and put some jumbled thoughts together coherently.

As she had been for the past hour, Wanda was quiet on the drive back to my place. Whenever I would glance in her direction, she'd be chewing on her lip and focusing on driving, though the blank expression on her face made me think that maybe she was distracted. It didn't take a genius to know she was thinking about my parents' words and I suddenly felt guilty for putting that all on her.

"I'm sorry," I blurted halfway through the journey. "I'm sorry for what they said. It wasn't fair of them, I know that. They just... they meant well, Wanda, they really did." I tucked my hands under my thighs, wincing as their words echoed in my mind. "It doesn't change anything though, y'know? We're still us. We're still okay. I don't want you to feel like anything's changed because it hasn't."

I paused, swallowing hard, and glanced her way. She didn't even look my way, still in the same position as she was before I started to speak. Looking back to the road ahead, I let out a disappointed sigh, figuring she wasn't in a talking mood. I didn't blame her, but I hoped she would have understood what I meant.

The remainder of the drive was like this, Wanda deep in thought and me huddled under an imaginary blanket of guilt. When we finally reached my house, she turned the engine off and I waited for her to say something, literally anything. Her fingers drummed against the steering wheel mindlessly and I figured she was out of words for tonight.

"I'll ring you in the morning," I mumbled quietly, opening the car door. "If you want to speak, that is."

Leaving her there, I grabbed my bag and headed to the front door, but stopped when I heard her get out the car, too. Waiting, I turned around and watched as she approached me, eyebrows knitted in thought.

"Please say something," I said with pleading eyes.

She licked her lips, biting her lower lip so hard I'm surprised she didn't draw blood. Finally, she released it and looked to me with apologetic eyes.

"Your parents were right," she said.

I blinked with confusion. "What?"

She nodded, looking down at her shoes momentarily. "They were right, what they said. My life puts you in danger."

"Yeah, I know," I agreed, crossing my arms. "I knew that when I got with you, but that doesn't change anything."

She gave a disbelieving smile. "Seriously? Y/N, that changes everything."

"No, it doesn't," I told her sternly, growing frustrated. "This is the stuff you sacrifice when you love someone."

She sighed, shaking her head and looking away. "You shouldn't have to."

"But I chose to," I said, clenching my jaw.

"Don't you remember what happened last time?" she asked, stepping forward and holding my hand. "The incident?"

"We said we wouldn't talk about that," I reminded her with a low voice.

"But you remember, right? When they took you and I wasn't there? They could've hurt you!"

"Shut up!" I told her, raising my voice. Pulling my hand away from hers and taking a step back, I continued, "Why are you saying that? You came! You helped me!"

"But what if they did something to you before I got there?" she snapped. "What if I hadn't got to you on time?"

The memories came spilling into my mind, escaping the locked box I kept them in. Tears burned the corner of my eyes as I tried to think about anything else.

"You remember how scared you were?" Wanda asked, frowning at me with exasperated eyes. "You couldn't be by yourself for weeks!"

"Why are you doing this?!" I yelled, clenching my fists. "Why are you trying to frighten me?!"

"Because you should be frightened!" she retorted, stepping closer to me. Her dark green eyes were swirling storms of rage as she added, "It could happen again!"

I shoved her away from me, pinching the bridge of my nose with annoyance. Tears slipped from my eyes at the terrifying memory of what happened, what could have gone wrong, but I ignored them as I swallowed down the lump in my throat. Why the hell was she acting like this? Making me so angry at her for no reason?

"It's not even just that," she continued, jaw tensed. "How many times do I get hurt because of work and you get worried?"

"That's because I care about you," I muttered through stinging eyes.

"This will always be my life," she said, a hint of regret in her words as she looked to me. "I can't change it."

"I'm not asking you to!"

"Exactly! You're not! Which means you'll suck it up and stay with me and will live your life in constant concern for my well-being. It's not right."

I opened my mouth to respond because what she was saying was entirely stupid. But my emotions got the better of me and no words came out. Instead, my bottom lip quivered as I sucked up a breath.

"I need time to think," she suddenly said, anger disappearing from her voice and being replaced with an astute calmness.

My gaze snapped her way and through blurry vision, I watched her step back with her hands on her hips.

"So you can what – think about breaking up with me?" I said bitterly, and despite my anger, I didn't expect her to look at me with a softened expression, meaning my words were correct.

"Maybe it's better that way, Y/N," she said gently, eyes meeting mine.

I squeezed my hands together and tried to breathe through the pent-up anger that she'd caused, but the longer she stared at me, waiting for a response, the more I wanted to explode.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I muttered, scrunching my eyebrows together.

She pressed her lips together, looking away, and it only pissed me off more.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Wanda?!" I yelled. "You're quitting on our relationship because, what, you think I'm in danger? Well, news flash, honey, the worst already happened and I'm still here!"

She barely flinched as she avoided my eyes.

"You're a fucking coward!" I said, pointing at her. "If you needed an excuse to end things, you could have just said so!"

Breathing out, I wiped my tears away shakily. I expected her to argue back, to realise she'd made a mistake and regretted her words, but as I waited, I knew she was certain of her decision.

"Fine," I settled, brimming with rage. "Fuck off, Wanda."

Still, nothing.

Turning on my heel, I stormed to my front door and went through my keys with difficulty, hands shaking with anger. I heard Wanda's car door shut from behind me but didn't bother turning around. I clearly didn't need to as I heard the tyres screech against the road and knew she was gone.

Kicking my door with frustration, I found the key and opened up before heading inside and slamming the door behind me. How dare she break up with me because of something that I chose off my own back! She just gave up like we meant nothing to her, not even bothering to talk things out with me! And selfishly, she left me feeling pissed and resenting her more than I ever thought I would.

"What a bitch!" I shouted into the empty house, throwing my keys to the side harshly.

When they clinked against glass, I looked up and saw the vase of flowers Wanda had given me before dinner.

"The first and fucking last," I said dryly, before grabbing ahold of it and throwing it against the wall without thinking.

The glass shattered on impact, leaving a mess of water, flowers and small shards on the wooden floor. I looked at it, the brokenness resembling how my heart felt. As the adrenaline of my actions and previous angry words wore off, all that was left was hurt and pain and oh God, Wanda was gone. She'd left me. She'd given up.

I sank to the floor, pulling my legs up to my chest, and hugged them tightly. Stifling my cries, I dug myself into my knees and felt a pain in my heart. Why didn't she fight for us? Did she not love me enough? Was I not enough?

—

"You ignored the memes I sent you, I thought you died."

As Natasha pushed right past me and into my house, I blinked with disbelief.

"Sure, come right in," I mumbled sarcastically, closing the front door.

Following after Natasha, I found her making herself at home in the living room, plonking herself on the couch and pulling her feet up comfortably.

"You could have sent an emoji or something," she continued, giving me a knowing look. "They were some good memes."

"Well, forgive me if I wasn't in the mood," I said sourly, joining her on the couch.

Her playful smile faded as she picked up on my words. "How are you doing, sweetie?"

I ran a hand through my hair and leaned my elbow on the back of the couch, getting comfortable. It had been two weeks since Wanda broke up with me and in those two weeks, I hadn't been doing particularly well. I guess you could say I was still in a slump. A horrible, tiresome, angry, sadness-filled slump.

"I'm fine."

She pursed her lips, looking like she wanted to argue, but thankfully, she didn't. I was glad – the last thing I wanted was to prove that I was okay when, really, all I wanted to do was curl in a ball and suffocate under my duvet.

"I'm sorry," she said, resting her hand on mine. "If it's any consolation, I think Wanda made a huge mistake."

"Ah, so she told you," I said with a nod of realisation. I hadn't told Natasha the specifics of why we broke up, but clearly Wanda did. I guess it made sense – they were teammates. If anything, I was surprised Natasha still wanted to speak to me, instead expecting her to side with her friend.

"She did," Natasha answered. "And I think she's an idiot, but that's not my business. I just came here to make sure you were okay."

"Really? I thought you wanted to show me the memes," I said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood with a small smile.

She chuckled, slapping my hand gently. "That, too... but seriously."

My smile faded as I looked down, my finger playing with my trousers distractedly. "I'm not okay, but I'll get there." I began to glare at my trousers, my anger for the witch returning. "I have to be. Because she doesn't want me anymore... fuck her."

"I'd rather not," Natasha mumbled.

Though my anger was present, making me tense like it had been the last few weeks, I couldn't help but smile at Natasha's words. Then laughter bubbled from my lips and for the first time since Wanda left, I felt momentarily happy.

"I'm glad we can still be friends," Natasha said, making me look to her with a smile. "I know that you and Wanda are over now... but I still like hanging out with you."

"Me, too," I said in agreement. "Thanks for coming to check in. You didn't have to."

"Yeah, I did." She nodded before offering me a small, encouraging smile. "You're gonna be okay, y'know."

I wanted to believe her, but despite how pissed I was at Wanda, I still loved her. And I couldn't imagine stopping, though I knew I'd have to if I was to make it through this.

—

Getting over Wanda was a difficult process. Everything I felt was a mixture of resentment, exhaustion and misery because I missed her. I missed being able to call her when I saw somebody do something stupid in public; I missed kissing her when I hadn't seen her in a long time; I missed hearing her adorable accent first thing when I woke up after she spent the night; I missed her.

Two months followed the breakup and the only time I'd see her was when she'd dodge Anna's apartment upon knowing I was going to take care of her. I guess I was glad in that sense, as it meant I wouldn't have to deal with her awkwardly. But it also made me feel like shit because it meant she didn't care about me at all. Clearly our breakup wasn't affecting her like it did with me.

And it was definitely affecting me.

I was scrolling through Instagram one day when I saw a particular post on my feed from Natasha's account. Yeah, one of the Avengers had a private Instagram account. She gave me her username when she saw me on it one day and I remember being so confused to how she had it.

"I'm an Avenger, not a hermit," was her response, and from that day onwards, we followed each other.

So, I saw a post on her Instagram and it was some goofy photo of her, Tony, Bruce and Wanda. They were posing with exaggerated smiles as Natasha grinned up front; the caption said something about working long days, but I wasn't paying much attention as, naturally, my gaze fell to Wanda.

Just like everyone else, she had a playful, exaggerated smile on her lips like nothing kept her down, but what stood out was the sling around her arm and the cast underneath. It must have happened in a mission or something and it wasn't my business, but I couldn't help but worry. Was she okay? Was she looking after herself? I wanted to text Natasha and ask, but I stopped myself.

She'd broken up with me for this very reason. I wasn't agreeing with it, but for a second, I did see why she'd made her point. It still wasn't fair though. She didn't get to make that choice for me.

We weren't together anymore, I reminded myself. She broke up with me. It had been two months and I needed to let go. If she didn't care about me, why should I waste my time and energy caring about her?

Not letting it get to me anymore, I simply liked the post before continuing my scrolling. Though I knew that deep down, her face was imprinted in my mind and I still worried for her well-being.

—

The fourth month following our breakup was when I properly saw Wanda again, excluding the times she would duck out of Anna's apartment upon my arrival to care for her. It was also the first time since the breakup that Wanda made the effort to speak to me.

I was sat eating dinner on my day off when I got a call from the hospital nearby, interrupting my meal. The nurse was explaining how Anna had fallen over and hurt her back and was now in a hospital room. She was calling me because she thought I'd like to know since I was her registered nurse and carer. I was glad to get the call, immediately pulling my shoes and coat on and rushing over there to make sure she was okay. She didn't have anyone else apart from Wanda and I – it was no question I had to go.

Though, of course, I didn't really think about the fact that Wanda may be there until I saw her there. I also didn't consider the fact that I was wearing my pyjamas when I stepped in the lift and headed to Anna's floor. Too late now.

After asking the receptionist where Anna's room was, I found Wanda hanging around it outside the door. With only Anna on my mind, I approached her and tried to hide my panic. She spotted me instantly, stopping her pacing and looking to me with tired eyes and a frown on her face.

I didn't care that she looked worried, nor that she was holding up well since we last spoke in anger. I didn't care that she'd dyed her hair a reddish-brown colour, nor that she managed to pull off both that and the whole 'loungewear' look in a place surrounded by blinding white and blue. I didn't care that my heart ached when her green eyes found mine, nor that I missed seeing her so close and not in my dreams for once. I didn't care about any of it. Or, at least, I tried to tell myself that.

"What happened?" I cut straight to the point, stopping in front of her. "Is Anna okay?"

Wanda nodded instantly. "She's fine. She tripped over her dining room chair and hurt her back. The doctors just checked her out and said it's nothing too serious, but she won't be able to walk for a while."

I pressed my lips together, feeling the panic wear off at the sound of good news. Anna had always been more than just a patient to me and the last thing I wanted was to hear she'd hurt herself badly.

"Can I see her?" I asked Wanda, quirking a brow.

"Yeah, of course," Wanda said, before looking away awkwardly. "I was just waiting out here for you. The nurse said you were coming."

I chose to say nothing as I walked past her and into Anna's room, seeing the older woman laying on a hospital bed and staring at the ceiling. When she noticed my presence, she smiled at me and motioned for me to join her side.

"It's so good to see you, milaya (sweetie)," she said happily, as I stopped by her side, "but you didn't have to come! I'm not dying."

I heard Wanda enter the room behind me, but she took a seat on the chairs opposite the bed. Ignoring her, I smiled down at Anna and grabbed her hand.

"Don't say that," I told her gently. "Of course I'm here. You're my number one priority. I had to make sure you were okay!"

Anna waved her hand in typical Anna fashion. "I've suffered worse. I'm absolutely fine."

I knew it was best not to question her, so I didn't.

"I'm glad you're both here," she said, looking between Wanda and I, making me swallow awkwardly.

Since breaking up, I hadn't mentioned it to Anna, but she wasn't stupid and she'd clearly noticed that we weren't spending time together anymore. I didn't know if Wanda had told her, but if she had, Anna never mentioned anything. Like now, she simply looked between us both with a grateful smile, unaware of how awkward we felt.

Thankfully, the awkward silence was interrupted when a doctor walked in the room. After introducing herself, I asked if I could speak to her outside about Anna and she happily obliged. She told me about Anna's condition and how it would affect the way I cared for her, especially regarding her new medication, and I asked anything and everything to make sure she was truly okay. After being reassured that she was, I thanked the doctor and returned to Anna's room, only to find Wanda and Anna in a heated a argument.

I couldn't tell what had got them so fussy as they were bickering in Russian, sentences too fast for me to comprehend with my limited knowledge of the language. It got to a point where Anna began slapping Wanda on the arm, looking angrier than ever, so I stepped between them and pulled Wanda away.

"What the hell is going on here?" I interrupted, holding Anna's slapping hand down to the bed and raising a hand to keep Wanda at bay. I looked between them, seeing the frustration in both their expressions, and asked questioningly, "Well?"

Wanda said nothing, eyes avoiding mine as usual, so I looked down to Anna who was glancing between us before spouting off into another ramble in Russian, trying to grab Wanda so she could yell at her directly. To my annoyance, Wanda tried to push past me, yelling back, and I was unfortunately caught in the middle as I attempted to keep them from ripping each other's throats out.

Thankfully, their bickering came to a halt when an unknown voice called into the room: "What is going on in here?"

I looked to the door, following the mystery voice, and saw a young woman, maybe in her thirties, standing in the doorway and looking between the three of us with confusion. I had no idea who she was, though she seemed familiar. Judging from the confusion Wanda had, she didn't seem to know either.

"Sasha," Anna breathed out with surprise, and then I realised. That was Anna's granddaughter. "What are you doing here?"

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #elizabeth olsen #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff #marvel #mcu #marvel imagine #mcu imagine

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girl-with-cat-eyes · 3 years

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Paperwork

Part 3 of the Reba au. Pat one and part two.

Summary: The weekend comes and Janus deals with paperwork, one-night stands, and meeting his ex-husband's new boyfriend.

A/N: So I went on a vacation to see @forever-forgotten-angel and took a break from writing. But I'm back and writing! Special thanks as always to @amazon-me-bitches and my qpp @forever-forgotten-angel for beta reading this fic! And now, without further ado, my fic.

When Janus woke up on Friday things seemed almost normal. He dropped Emile and Remy off at school, Patton agreed to pick them up. Virgil had ridden with Thomas, which meant that Janus didn’t have to worry about any pickups today. That was good, considering he was working late. He had a trial coming up in two weeks, a factory worker who’d been injured on the job due to company negligence of machinery. Janus had been happy to take the case.

Of course, it meant that he wasn’t leaving the office until 8 PM. Janus yawned as he left the office, ready to get home and sleep. It would be lovely. A full night’s worth of sleep and then the weekend. Not that he wouldn’t be working of course. But his home office was far superior to the one he had at work. Maybe he’d take the boys out for a picnic if he had time. That would be nice. Emile had been wanting to go to the park and see the ducks before it got too cold. They could feed the ducks.

Janus was interrupted from his thoughts by a loud clang. He reached for his pepper spray, better safe than sorry. There were clangs, seeming to come from a dumpster next to the parking lot. It was most likely a raccoon but Janus wasn’t taking any chances. He began quickly walking to his car, eyes trained on the dumpster the whole time. He was halfway to his car when the source of the noises showed itself.

Janus prided himself on his eloquent speech but all he could find it in himself to say was, “What?”. Brilliant Janus, just brilliant.

It was a person, taller than Janus. They had dark curly hair from what Janus could see, and a mustache as well. They held a possum in their arms. Janus blinked, “What did I tell you about running off Tallulah? You’re not going to find any tasty treats in a law office’s dumpster. We have to go to taco bell for that. The only thing you’ll find in there is paper, office supplies, and-”, they looked up and made eye contact with Janus, “And the sexiest man alive.”

They’d ran up to Janus before he had a chance to react, “Hello sexy. Are you a lawyer? Because it’s illegal for someone to be as sexy as you are.”

“Sorry about that. I tend to get over-excited.”, they offered a hand out to shake, “I’m Remus. He/him pronouns.”

“Janus.”, he found himself saying, “He/him pronouns. What exactly were you doing in the dumpster?”

“How dare you insinuate that Tallulah is merely a pet. She is my baby.”

“Oh! Tallulah here thought she could get snacks in that dumpster over there so I had to get her out.”, he held up the possum in his arms.

“Right. And Tallulah is your pet?”

“Well, it appears your baby wants to eat office supplies.”, Janus reached out to pet the possum in question, scritching her ears. He smiled as she leaned into the touch. He smiled at the sight.

“Believe me she doesn’t want that. I’ll take her to taco bell. She enjoys their burritos. You’re more than welcome to join if you want?”, it was a stupid idea. They’d just met, Remus was a total stranger. He could be a serial killer for all Jan knew.

Message sent to Patton at 8:23 PM.

“Hey Pat, don’t wait up for me. I’m gonna get take out on the way home. Make sure Remy’s homework is done before he plays on the Switch.”

Taco Bell, Janus thought, was best enjoyed at night. They’d gotten fast food and now sat out in the parking lot, a feast of fast food laid out before them. He watched as Tallulah happily ate her promised bean burrito. It was nice, relaxing even. Janus smiled as he watched, “So how does one end up with a pet possum?”

Remus grinned, “I birthed her from my womb.”, seeing Janus’ unamused expression he turned serious, “I rescue animals. She was rescued from an exotic pet dealer. She can’t be rehabilitated into the wild, unfortunately.”

“I see. She’s very sweet.”, Janus continued petting the possum in question, “So what do you do with your time? Besides rescue possums and climb into dumpsters of course."

“I’m a midwife actually.”, Remus grinned. Janus looked over to where he had unhinged his jaw to deepthroat his burrito like a snake. He waited for Remus to finish before speaking.

“A midwife?”

Remus nodded, “Yeah. I make bank. Which is nice cause it means I can foster lots of animals.”, he continued deepthroating the burrito.

Well, that was unexpected. Janus stared at the man in front of him delivering babies and truthfully he couldn’t picture it. Remus seemed more like the type of person to go into a job that didn’t involve babies. He seemed more likely to own a demolition derby, “You don’t seem like the type. Can I ask a dumb question?”

“Sure.”

“Well, it’s not a question. I just didn’t know men could be midwives.”

“It shocks a lot of people actually. Most people don’t think women would be comfortable working with me.”

“I’m guessing that’s not true.”

“I work with trans men mostly. Having a trans midwife is reassuring. I know what they’re going through. And sometimes cis midwives can be judgy.”

“You’re trans?”

“Is he?”

“Yep.”

“Well then.”, Janus took a bite of his food, chewing thoughtfully, “My son’s pregnant.”

“Yeah. It’s been super stressful because he’s 17.”, Janus sighed, “How much would it cost for you to work with us? Any resources would be helpful.”

“For you? I’ll do it for free. I know all too well what it’s like to be a pregnant teen. And I think you’re cute.”, he winked and Janus felt his face warm in a way he hadn’t felt in years.

“You- you got pregnant as a teen?”, he forced himself to get out. Remus nodded and for a brief second Janus thought he saw a tear in his eye.

“Yeah but I miscarried. Lack of resources and all. So now I make sure that no one else has to go through what I went through.”

Message sent to Patton at 11 PM

“That’s amazing. You have to let me pay you though.”

“I told you, helping a cutie like you out is payment enough.”, he leaned forward, “I wouldn’t mind a kiss though. That is, if you’re agreeable?”, Remus leaned forward and Janus could smell his cologne. The warm, spicy, citrus scent drove him wild. It was like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, staring at the abyss below. And Janus was happy to fall.

Don’t wait up for me. I’ll be back late.

Patton Picani-Hart had never been a morning person. Sure, he wanted to be; but late nights at the restaurant and his sleep schedule meant that he had trouble pulling himself out of bed in the morning. It also meant he could barely function without at least three cups of coffee. He was currently standing in front of the coffee maker, staring at it as if he could will the coffee to brew faster.

It had been a long night. Janus had to work late, which meant it was up to Patton to pick up Emile and Remy from school and drive them home. Luckily Virgil and Thomas had agreed to watch them because then he had to rush back to the restaurant for the dinner shift. He got back by 11 to all of the kids asleep and leftover greek food waiting for him. He’d been so tired that he’d eaten the food and fallen asleep immediately, never seeing the message he had from Janus.

He hadn’t seen it until the morning when he awoke to Emile sitting on his chest asking for food. A quick check of his phone revealed it was 9 am and Janus had stayed out all night. So Patton did the only thing he could do; he got dressed and went downstairs to make breakfast. Six breakfast burritos later, and he was beginning to wonder where Janus was. Clearly, he’d had a good night if he was gone for this long. At least he hoped it was good. Regardless, it was good for Janus to start exploring romance again if he was ready. Hopefully, the relationship would be good for him. He couldn’t wait to hear the details.

Patton was considering calling him when there was a jingle of keys at the front door. Janus walked through the door. His hair stuck out in multiple directions, his suit was unkempt, and Patton could see multiple hickeys on his chest. It had been a good night after all. He handed him a cup of coffee, “Good morning. Looks like you had a good night.”

Janus blushed and Patton knew exactly how good of a night he’d had. He grinned as he watched the man in question try to come up with an excuse, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”, his ex may have had a silver tongue, but that all went away when he was flustered.

“I’m not mad. You seem to forget that we’re separated, soon to be divorced. Going out is healthy.”, Patton handed him a plate of food with a smile, “So who is he?”

“His name is Remus and we met last night. He’s nice. I invited him over for dinner Tuesday night.”, Patton frowned. Having a one-night stand was one thing, heck dating was fine. But bringing this guy around the kids after one date didn’t seem like the best idea.

“I support you dating Jan, but don’t think you should date a little bit longer before bringing him home. Virgil won’t mind but it might confuse Emile and Remy.”, it was the truth. The boys would be confused if Janus introduced them to a new boyfriend and then it didn’t work out. Best to wait until it was serious. That was what Patton had done.

Janus blinked as if it was a new idea to him. “Pat, I’m not introducing him as my boyfriend. He’s a midwife. I invited him over to meet Virge. I thought it might be a good idea to have a midwife as well as an OBGYN.”

Patton sighed in relief; he didn’t want to sound like a jealous ex, especially when he’d been the one to ask for the divorce. This Remus coming over as a midwife was different though. And it meant that he wouldn’t have to worry if the kids would be confused. Speaking of the kids, Emile ran in at that moment, practically bouncing in his shoes, “Is breakfast ready yet?”

Janus smiled at their youngest, picking him up and balancing him on his hip, “Yep. How about you go get your brothers and then we can eat.”, Emile nodded and ran off as fast as he could. Janus nodded and went to leave the kitchen, “I should go change.”

Pat nodded, a thought coming to him, “Virgil wanted to come to help me prep for lunch rush today at the restaurant. Could you pick him up before the dinner rush? I don’t want to stress him.”, Janus nodded before leaving, leaving Patton alone to wonder what this Remus was like.

Janus hummed as he drove to Pat’s. He’d spent most of the day in the office today, getting caught up on his paperwork. He’d promised to take the boys to the park tomorrow for a picnic, which meant he had to get it all done today. Thomas had luckily agreed to watch Remy and Emile once Pat and Virgil left to prep for the day, giving Janus ample time to work.

Soon 5 o’clock came around and Janus was leaving to go pick up Virgil. He was sure that Virgil would be ready to go home. Janus had seen just how busy the restaurant could get during the dinner rush. Virgil may have wanted to be a chef, but he wasn’t ready for that. Especially right now.

He pulled up behind the restaurant, parking in the employee parking lot. Inside he could see the kitchen was a flurry of work, prepping as much as possible before it got truly busy. Waving to the kitchen staff, Janus headed to the back office where he knew Patton would be finishing paperwork before he went to go work in the kitchen. Virgil would most likely be in there with him. Only he didn’t see Virgil when he entered the office.

Patton stood in front of his desk, kissing an unfamiliar man as if his life depended on it. Janus blinked before realizing this must be the Logan he’d heard about. He quickly realized he was staring and, unsure of what to do, coughed to announce his presence. Patton jumped and turned around, Logan blushing and looking down.

“Janus, hey, what are you doing here?”, Patton looked flustered, like they weren’t divorced, “This is Logan, I told you about him.”, behind him, Logan nodded, still blushing too much to properly speak.

“Nice to meet you, I’m here to pick up Virgil. I said I’d be here at 5, remember?”

Pat’s eyes went wide, “Is it 5 already? I need to go get started in the kitchen.”, he moved away from Logan and ran to put on his chef’s coat, “Virgil was taking inventory in the fridge. Janus nodded and left the office, hearing Logan saying he should get going as he left.

He did in fact find Virgil in the freezer, stocking ingredients and taking note of what was low. Upon seeing his dad he handed the list to a cook before standing up to leave. They got to the car, Virgil getting in, and Janus was about to when he heard someone call his name.

Logan stood in front of him, looking made together and not at all how he looked when Janus had seen him earlier, “Yes?”

Logan took a deep breath before speaking, “I just wanted to apologize that we had to meet like that. I wanted to meet you and the kids properly, not having you walk in on me kissing Patton goodbye.”, Janus nodded in understanding.

“It’s fine. Patton and I were separated before you two started dating. Just treat him right. We may not be together anymore, but I still care about him. He has a good heart and I don’t want to see that heart broken.”

“I never want to hurt him.”

“Then we’ll have no issue. Goodbye then.”, Janus got in the car, giving the man a wave before driving off. He turned to Virgil, who was listening to music next to him, giving him a tap on the shoulder.

Virgil looked up at him, taking off his headphones before speaking, “What’s up?”

“How does Indian sound for dinner?”, Virgil nodded and Janus set off to get take out. There was a few moments of silence before he spoke again, “Virgil, you don’t mind if your father and I date again, right? I mean date people that aren’t each other.”

Virgil shrugged, “It doesn’t bother me. You two are getting a divorce, dating seems to make sense. And I know you’ll both always be here for me and Remy and Emile.”, Janus nodded, comfortable in the fact that he knew at least one of his kids was ok with him dating.

A/N: We finally meet Remus and Logan. All that's left is Roman, who will be in the next part.

Disclaimer: Possums are not pets, they are wild animals. Furthermore, I do not know their diet but I'm taco bell isn't part of it. Tallulah is a magical possum and real-life rules do not apply to her. Do not inbox me saying possums don't eat bean burritos.

Besides that, I'm taking prompts for this verse, so if you have prompts send them in! I'd love to see your hcs for this au. And as always, if you like this fic, leave a comment. Thank you for reading!

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #my fic #Janus Sanders #patton sanders #Remus sanders #Logan sanders #virgil sanders #remy sanders #emile picani #Demus #dukeceit #janus/remus #janus x remus #logicality #logan/patton #logan x patton #verse: i'm a suvivor

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anonhpwriter · 3 years

Text

It's not edited. I didn't even read it over, so it might be a huge hot mess. But here is a scene that was written for part 2 of Second Chances with the help of @ethulinda while Harry was doing school from home, that never made it in the story...

Remus pressed his fingers to his forehead as he left the room from speaking to Sirius. The man had been concerned about his godson, for good reason. The teen was refusing to do his school work while he was with his godfather, for several days at that. Sirius had expressed that he had waited to inform him of the issues, believing Harry was simply not feeling all too well. An excuse that Harry had clearly been giving the man. Tossing a hand full of floo powder into the hearth, Remus stepped into the green flames while announcing his destination. He always hated telling Severus when the child had done something wrong. Even worse when it involved him lying. Remus stepped out into his friend’s office at Hogwarts. He folded his arms over his chest as he released a heavy breath. “Severus.” He couldn’t help the disappoint lacing his voice, as he moved further into the room.

Snape looked up from the pile of papers he was working on grading. Concern took over his face as he saw the disappointment on his friends features. “What is it?” Snape had a horrible feeling that the look on Remus’ face, the tone of his voice - had something to do with Harry. The child had been spending three days a week with his godfather for nearly a month now. Snape had been surprised by how smoothly it was going. He found himself hoping that Remus wasn’t about to destroy that feeling of content.

Remus moved over, taking a seat in front of the man’s desk. He leaned back, crossing his left leg over his right. “Has Harry mentioned how his classes are going? Besides the work for our classes. Have you heard anything?” He frowned as he clasped his hands together.

Snape raised an eyebrow at the work. “I personally delivered his completed work last week. I asked him last night and he said that this week has been quite easy. He assured me that he is nearly done with his assignments.” Snape eyed his friend carefully, taking in the frown on his lips. “Why do you ask?”

Remus released a heavy breath at the words, words that he wasn't exactly surprised at hearing. Still, the disappointment only rose. "I just had quite the discussion with Sirius. Apparently the child has been claiming he's ill and refusing to do any work with him." His frown only deepened as he spoke.

Disappointment flashed across Snape’s face. “Claiming he is ill? He has been fine. He was out on his broom for nearly two hours last night and after that ate two helpings of dinner and a large dessert. He is far from ill!” A frown formed on Snape’s face as the words that Remus had spoken completely sunk in. “He has been lying to both his godfather as well as me.” He paused for a moment shaking his head angrily. “That child is not going to sit properly when I am done with him...”

Remus didn’t respond to the words, in fact he actually inclined his head them. “I agree, he does need a lesson..” His voice faded before he cleared his throat. “I’m due to teach his defense lesson soon. Do you mind if I.. see what he says on the matter?” He uncrossed his legs, leaning forward slightly.

Snape couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the very idea that Remus agreed with him. Typically the man did his best to make sure he went easy on Harry. “Please do,” Snape nodded. “I am far too busy today to go home and deal with him early.” He paused for a moment. “In fact, you can tell him that I am aware and that I will be home at five sharp. You can also tell him that when I arrive I expect to find him waiting in the corner.” Snape nearly took his words back but instead his lips set in a tight line. “That child of mine needs to learn that lying is not acceptable. Nor is refusing to do his schoolwork.”

"Not only has he lied to Sirius, but as you stated to yourself and in the same regard myself as well." Remus gave a hum as he pushed himself up to stand. He knew that the teen knew FAR better than to lie, but to do so so.. easily for the last several days.. Under normal circumstances, he would of felt for the child. But right then, he was nothing but disappointed.

“Feel free to express your disappointment in any way you wish. You know I trust your judgement.” Snape sighed as he shook his head once more in complete disbelief at his child’s actions. “And please tell Black thank you for me. I appreciate that he was mature enough to tell you rather than trying to help Harry hide his actions.”

"I will." Remus bowed his head at the words, moving over to the fireplace. "I apologize that that this is an issue to begin with." ---------- Harry gathered the items he would need for when Remus arrived, placing them on the kitchen table. Normally the man arrived a few minutes early, and he was surprised he hadn't shown up yet. Shrugging, Harry passed the thought that the man must of been caught up at Hogwarts longer than planned. He moved to the back door, opening it to allow Bane out.

Remus stepped into the familiar parlor, still unable to shake the feeling of disappointment that he had in the teenager. The ease that the boy had been lying with was unnerving. Remus made his way into the kitchen forcing himself to handle the situation without losing his patience completely. “Harry,” he greeted the boy as he moved towards the kitchen table.

Harry turned to look over his shoulder at the man, smiling brightly as Remus stepped in. "Hey Remus." Calling Bane back inside, the teen shut the door and moved over towards the table. "How're you?"

Remus sat down at the table, motioning with one hand for Harry to take a seat next to him. “I’m okay. How are you? How are your classes going?” Remus worked hard to keep his face normal.

Harry moved over to sit next to the man, chewing on his bottom lip at the question. He was, honestly, behind in everything. And he only had two more days to catch up. "Eh.. they're.." He shrugged a shoulder slightly, pulling his defense book forward. "They're okay.."

Remus made a soft humming noise at the words as he looked down at the boy’s Defense book. “Page 87 please.” He leaned back in his chair eyeing the teenager carefully as he debated how to bring the boy’s misdeeds up.

Harry did so, his gaze remaining on the book. His fingers hovered on the page, swallowing after a moment. He could tell Remus.. Remus had his back for, well, EVERYTHING! He always had. "..Can we talk..?" It was only a matter of time before Snape asked for his work, it was only a matter of time before everything came out. The giant squid churned within Harry's stomach, causing the teen to wrap his arms around himself. It was Remus. He had no reason to be nervous. He could even talk to Snape for him! Remus nodded as he sat up straight once more, his elbows resting on the kitchen table. “What is it that you would like to talk about? Perhaps how sick you have been all week?” He raised a knowing eyebrow at the teenager.

Harry felt his blood run cold at the words, his fingers tingling as he clasped his hands together after a moment. "You.. you talked to Sirius." He offered after a quiet minute.

Remus nodded at the question. “I did. I spoke to Severus as well.” He paused for a long moment before he opened his mouth once more, his words coming out in a far sterner voice than he had ever used with Harry. “What were you thinking? Lying in such a way!”

Harry visibly cringed at the words, his shoulders hunching over as the man's voice rose slightly. "I just wanted to spend some normal time with Sirius!" He felt his mouth go dry as he spoke. Snape was already told, and he didn't come home yet. "I-I was still going to get the work done.."

“You lied to your godfather as well as to Severus and even to me.” Remus’ voice held sadness as well as disappointment. “I know for a fact that you know far better than that Harry. And wanting to spend time with Sirius without doing schoolwork is not an acceptable excuse. Do you honestly think that Severus will disagree and accept it?”

Harry shook his head at the words, feeling tears start to burn the bottom of his eyes. "No.." He removed his glasses, raising a hand to catch a tear before it had a chance to fall. "But I've still been working on all of it.. just not when I was with Sirius,.."

Remus raised an eyebrow at the words. He suddenly had a fleeting feeling of regret over how harshly he had just spoken to the child. “Have you? It is nearly done then?” Surely if Harry’s work was complete he would speak to Snape once more - calm the man down a bit.

The teen mentally cursed his words, his eyes lowering down to his book. "I mean.. not, it's- it's not." Harry swallowed once more. He had hardly started to TOUCH the work.

“It’s halfway done then?” Remus asked in a hopeful voice. Halfway was hardly acceptable when the work was due so soon, still Remus could work with that. He could help Harry complete some of it now and get him a bit more caught up and then talk to Snape when he returned to Hogwarts.

Closing his eyes, the teen shook his head with a soft "No.." He pushed his book away at the word, resting his elbows on the table. "I'm sorry.." He offered softly."I-I can start on it all now! And then it'll be okay.."

Remus leaned back in his chair once more, his arms folding over his chest. “Have you done any of it aside from Defense and Potions?” He was nearly certain that he had never felt such an overwhelming urge to land a good smack to the boy’s bum before.

"I.." Harry rested his head on his hand, looking away from the man and starting down. "No.." He whispered, his other hand tightening into a fist. His whole body felt numb with his nerves.

Remus let out a long breath that he hadn’t realized he had been holding in. “It’s due in two days time. Did you expect to somehow get it all done before then? Did you expect that Sirius would not mention to myself or even Severus that you have been telling him you were ill?” Remus’ voice was stern once more. “He was quite worried about you when he spoke to me about it.”

Harry kept his eyes on the table, still refusing to look towards the man. He hated this. He had hoped, in some way, Remus would work with him. Understand that he wanted to spend time with Sirius. In the same breath, he also wished Sirius hadn't said anything.

“Nothing at all to say for yourself?” Remus leaned forward once more. He lowered his own head in an attempt to look at Harry’s face. “Severus is not pleased in the least Harry James.” Remus nearly wanted to yell at the child to look at him and respond but he was sure doing so would not help the situation .

Noticing Remus move, Harry shifted his eyes up while he continued to talk. "I'll get it done.." He whispered softly. "Can't.. can't you tell him it'll be done and....and calm him down? Please? I just wanted to spend time with Sirius."

Remus felt the disappointment race through his body once more. “Not this time.” He shook his head firmly. “I’m afraid that I am finding myself agreeing with Severus in this matter. You lied a bit too much this week for my liking.”

Harry felt his chin quiver at the words, taking in a deep breath in an attempt to calm his nerves. He fell silent, lowering his gaze back down.

“Your guardian also asked me to inform you that he will be home at five this evening and he expects to find you in the corner when he arrives.” Despite his utter disappointment in the teenager, Remus couldn’t help but feel horrible about the words he had just spoken. Not that he didn’t think that the teenager deserved punishment but he was sure Harry would be well past embarrassed by them.

Harry's cheeks darkened at the words, shaking his head at the words. Snape told Remus that?! He lowered his hand away from his face. "I don't want to talk about any of it anymore.." The teen had been stressed enough knowing he needed to get the work down. And now everything had started to crash around him.

“I will grant you that wish as we have to get your Defense work completed. However, I would not expect Severus to allow you the same privilege.” Remus gave the child a stern look. “Read pages 87 and 88 and then we will discuss what they entail.”

Harry silently pulled his book back towards himself, looking down at the pages. He re-read the first paragraph several times before he finally gave up. A tear escaped and ran down his cheek, the teen quickly catching it as he attempted to refocus and move on down the page. It was clearly impossible for the teen to concentrate even reading.

Remus watched the boy carefully, sighing softly as he saw the tear escape the boy’s eye. “I am assuming that you are beginning to greatly regret your actions and behavior this week.”

Harry slowly nodded, pushing the book away once more. Removing his glasses, he placed them down upon the table before he rested his head within his hands.

“You told me only a moment ago that you do not wish to talk about it. If that is the case then you need to complete your Defense lesson for today.” Remus forced the words out. A part of him would have liked to pull the boy out of his chair and into a tight hug and yet another part of him would have liked to pull him out of his chair and over his knee. The tears were slowly breaking him but he still couldn’t completely shake the feeling of utter disappointment and anger at Harry’s behavior.

"Snape's going to go mental though.." Harry whispered, his hands blocking his eyes as he stared down. If Remus was upset, he couldn't imagine how his guardian would be when he got home.

In the past this was the moment where Remus would typically assure the teenager that he would speak to his guardian and calm him down the best he could. Today however, Remus knew for a fact he was not going to do anything of the sort. If Harry could lie so easily maybe Snape going mental was exactly what he needed. “I believe you are correct,” Remus nodded as he looked over to the child. “With good reason at that.”

The teen closed his eyes tightly at the words, several more tears falling. He used his thumbs to brush them away, sniffing softly. "And you're angry." At that moment, he hardly wanted to be in the same room. The tension simply felt thick to the teen and he wanted it gone.

“I am disappointed,” Remus clarified. “Very disappointed.” He paused for a moment as he sighed softly. “I don’t fancy being lied to Harry James. I also don’t appreciate when my friends are lied to.”

Harry lowered his hands, resting them on top of each other. "I'm sorry.." He whispered softly.

“Are you?” Remus questioned in a voice so stern he hardly recognized it as his own. “Or is that a lie as well?”

Hurt flashed across Harry's face at the words, his chin quivering before he pushed himself up and away from the table. Everything was going to be a lie now then? He didn't wait for Remus to say anything more before he quickly departed the kitchen and headed up the stairs. Remus nearly left for Hogwarts. He nearly yelled at the child to get himself back in the kitchen. He nearly climbed the stairs with the intent to put Harry across his knee before Severus could. After several long moments he stood and made his way through the lower level of the house. He climbed the staircase slowly before pausing outside of Harry’s bedroom door. He raised a hand and knocked twice before waiting to be told that he could enter.

"What?" Came the teen's reply, tears lacing his tone. Harry sat on his bed, leaning against the headboard as he stared towards the window. None of this would of happened if he was at Hogwarts.

Remus pushes the door open, stepping into the teenagers bedroom. “I realize that you are upset and regretting your actions however, you have no one to blame for them but yourself.” Remus leaned against the boy’s wardrobe, his arms folded over his chest.

Harry looked up to the man as he entered before staring down to his bed covers. "I know that.." He muttered, a hint of cheek entering his tone.

Remus shook his head firmly as he stood up straight, his weight off of the wardrobe. “If you are going to speak to me with that cheek I will see myself back to Hogwarts.”

Harry fell silent for a moment before slowly shaking his head. "Don't leave.." His voice was soft as he pulled a knee up towards his chest.

Remus sighed softly as his eyes fell on the clock on Harry’s bedside table. “You have two hours until Severus will be home and thirty minutes until I have to leave to teach my last class of the day. Perhaps you should use your time wisely?”

Harry slowly nodded, pushing himself up and moving to his desk. He picked up his bag, taking out his transfiguration textbook first. "I -am- sorry." He glanced over towards Remus.

Remus nodded as he moved and sat on the foot of the boy’s bed. He was prepared to stay for the next thirty minutes and help the boy if he could. “It had better not happen again Harry.”

"It won't." Harry breathed as he started on his first bit of transfiguration work. He fell silent, resting his head in left hand as he wrote. After a few minutes, he lowered his quill and swallowed. "I'm nervous.." He finally admitted.

Remus’ eyes hadn’t left the boy as he worked. When Harry spoke, Remus cleared his throat softly. “To face Severus?”

Harry nodded, resting his forehead into his hands. "Yea."

“Why are you nervous?” Remus asked in a gentle tone. He had a good feeling of exactly why the teenager was feeling that way. If he was waiting for his father to come home to discipline him, he would have been nervous too.

"Because.. he'll be angry. So angry.." The man was never scary to him, but he HATED when the man was upset. He hated being the cause of it.

Remus nodded at the words. “You are right, he likely will be. However he loves you very much Harry. He won’t stay angry, you know that.”

"I know.." Harry whispered, tilting his head to look back at the man. "Doesn't make it easier."

Remus hummed softly at the words. “I’m sure it doesn’t.” He paused for a moment as he gave Harry a sad smile. “A walloping is never easy to wait for is it?”

Harry visibly tensed at the words, his cheeks flushing. It was one thing knowing what was coming, it was another to hear REMUS say it. "You can't talk him out of it..?"

Remus shook his head at the request. “You lied quite a bit this week. You didn’t complete your schoolwork. You made Sirius believe that you were ill. I cannot talk him out of this.”

"Is Sirius upset too?" Harry forced himself to sit up straight, looking back to his work.

“Sirius is not aware that you lied to him at the moment.” Remus cleared his throat once more. “I believe that it would be best if you told him yourself.”

He whined softly at the words, sighing soon after. Harry couldn't imagine the disappointment on his godfather's face either! Still, the teen continued to work, chewing on his bottom lip.

After twenty minutes passed Remus stood moving over to Harry. He peered over the boy at his work giving an approving nod at how much he had completed. His hand reached out gently cupping the back of the teenagers neck and giving it a light squeeze. “I need to get back to Hogwarts now. But do not forget to watch the time, remember what Severus said about when he arrives home. I doubt you want to make him any more cross.”

Harry leaned back against the touch slightly, swallowing heavily once more as he nodded. "Okay.." He whispered softly, turning a page within his book. He doubted that his guardian would be more cross than he already would be though.

“I’ll come visit for a bit tomorrow,” Remus promised as he removed his hand from the back of the boy’s neck. “You try and get some work completed before you need to go downstairs.” Remus moved out of the room, leaving the bedroom door open as he did. He made his way downstairs before flooing back to Hogwarts.

Harry raised his left hand after the man left, rubbing at his eyes as several tears started to fall. Of course he knew he had to get the work done soon, but he wished he could redo the week. He forced his eyes back to his book, finishing up his first assignment before moving on to the second. This continued for the next couple of hours, the teen's eyes finally looking up towards the clock. It was nearing five and Snape would be back.. He pushed himself away and up from his desk, glad that he got through Transfiguration at least. That would at least be something. Harry made his way downstairs, suddenly pausing at the bottom step. His mouth went dry once more as he went over to his usual corner. The teen folded his arms tightly around himself, eyes closing.

Snape walked into his parlor at Hogwarts. His anger over the situation with Harry had hardly diminished at all in the past few hours. He swore to himself that if the child wasn’t in the corner where he had instructed him to be he would take a strap to him. Snape moved towards the fireplace picking up a handful of floo powder before stepping inside. He dropped the floo powder to his feet stating his destination clearly. A moment later he stepped into the parlor in his own home. His eyes going to his son standing silently in the corner. He gave an approving nod at the boy’s actions. At the very least Snape was pleased that he had at least listened now. He walked towards, Harry stopping only a step behind the child as he debated landing a smack to his rear end.

Harry's back tensed as he heard the floo roar to life behind him, shifting his head just slightly. He heard the footsteps approach him, his eyes closing. His breath hitched slightly, fresh tears burning under his eye lids. The teen didn't say anything. He knew he shouldn't.

Snape turned and walked away from his child, sitting down in his armchair. He sighed softly at the idea of what his evening would consist of. Earlier in the day he had been hopeful for a nice, quiet night with his son but that hope was long gone. His eyes moved to the clock on the mantel noting that it was five after five. He swore to himself that Harry was not leaving that corner until at least half past the hour.

Harry had actually hoped the man would say something. Yell, scolding, anything to break the silence of the room. Yet the only sound there was were Bane's nails clicking against the floor as the dog moved to greet Snape. After a few more minutes, Harry swallowed heavily and rested his forehead against the wall.

Snape watched as the boy leaned against the wall. His eyes moved to the clock once more noting that half of Harry’s time had passed. “Stand up straight,” Snape hissed in an angry tone. “You are not standing in the corner to relax young man!”

Harry jumped at the sudden snap, standing straight once more quickly. He instead folded his arms over himself, staring down towards the floor. Several tears that had been threatening to fall finally did so, causing the teen to raise a hand brush away a few of them. Snape’s eyes narrowed on the teenager as he mentally went over his list of misdeeds. Remus had informed him when he returned to Hogwarts that he had left Harry working on his schoolwork and Snape was quiet curious as to how much of it the boy had managed to complete. He was quite curious about several other things as well. He swore to himself that if Harry showed him any cheek, even once, that he would put him back over his knee in a few hours when the boy went to bed. Snape’s eyes moved from Harry to the clock once more. The boy had less than ten minutes left. “I certainly hope that you are thinking long and hard about where your lying has gotten you young man.” Snape’s voice was stern, angry. Harry took in a deep breath, giving no other response to the words. He wouldn’t respond. Not right then. Closing his eyes, the teen rose hands to brush away several tears. Snape remained silent, his eyes moving from Harry to the clock on the mantel as the last minutes ticked by. When the final minute ended Snape cleared his throat. “Are you ready to come out of the corner or is another thirty minutes necessary?” Harry turned at the words, shaking his head with a soft “No..” He started over towards the man before he paused and casted a glance at the desk before back over towards his guardian. Snape’s eyes narrowed, his lips set in a tight line S he raised a hand and crooked a finger at his son before firmly pointing to the ground directly in front of him. “To me Harry James.” Harry swallowed, slowly making his way over to the man and stopping once he reached him. His mouth, once more, felt dry as he raised a hand to brush at a stray tear. “I’m sorry..” He whispered softly, chewing on his bottom lip as he stared at his guardian. Snape raised an eyebrow at the words as he took hold of Harry’s hand and pulled him closer yet. “You are only sorry that you were caught!” The man decided in an low, angry tone. Harry didn’t respond to those words, his eyes shifting from Snape’s angry face to stare down at the man’s knee. He was sure if he wasn’t able to catch up on the work, then he would of told him. “I just wanted to spend some normal time with Sirius..” He offered softly, his eyes still remaining low. Snape’s hand reached out and firmly gripped the child’s chin as he forced his eyes up to look at him. “Did something prevent you from coming to me and asking if you could do so at a time that is not designated for you to be completing your schoolwork?” Harry tried to pull his chin away from the man's grasp before he simply rested his head in the hold.

"I.. well no." The teen admitted softly. Snape’s grip tightened slightly on the small chin. “Instead you felt it necessary to lie to me as well as to your godfather and Remus? What exactly did you say you were sick with?” When the grip tightened, he once more started to shift his head. "Please let go." He whined, before answer the man's question. "J-just that my stomach had been bothering me.." Snape made no attempt to let the child go or even loosen his grip. “You seemed perfectly fine to me all week.” Snape’s tone remained angry. “Though I can assure you that you will feel plenty of discomfort this evening though it will not be in your stomach.” He paused for a long moment. “Perhaps that mouth of yours needs washing out with a bar of soap to teach you that lying is unacceptable?” Harry's chin quivered in his guardian grip, several more tears falling. "No." He raised a hand, sniffing as he cleared away his tears to no avail. They continued to fall and the teen gave the man a pleading look. “No?” Snape questioned sternly as his hand let go of the small chin. “Then how exactly are we going to make sure that your lying ends here?” Snape shook his head before Harry had a chance to respond. “By my calculations we have dealt with dishonesty from you one too many times.” “I-I was still going to get the work done!” He pulled his face away, rubbing at his cheeks. “I already finished all of transfiguration and started charms.” “You certainly are,” Snape nodded firmly. “The moment that we are done here you are bringing you work to the kitchen where you will remain until it is done.” The teen released a breath, slowly nodding at the words. "Okay.." He agreed softly. "And I AM sorry..I.. I didn't think you'd be okay with Sirius and I just.. just hanging out." “Regardless of what you thought that is not an excuse to lie Harry!” Snape let out an angry breath before fixing the child with a stern glare. “How much of your work for this week have you completed?” "Potions, defense.. and transfiguration." Harry's voice was soft, his eyes once more falling down. It wasn't a lot that he had finished- compared to a whole week's worth of work. “Eyes up!” Snape hissed angrily. “Unless you want my help with that.” He cleared his throat as his head shook in disbelief. “I suppose it will be quiet a long night of schoolwork for you young man.” Harry forced his eyes up at the words, slowly nodding after a minute. "I'll get it all done tonight.." He whispered, nodding once more with his words. Snape’s eyes locked with his son’s. “And what are we going to do to stop this lying? You do not want your mouth washed out...perhaps you need a healthy dose of veritaserum? You can have your backside spanked for every lie I uncover!” Harry felt himself go numb at the words, shaking his head as Snape spoke. "No.. no, I swear I won't lie again!" He couldn't help the desperation that entered his voice as he spoke, attempting to blink back tears. However the action only caused them to fall. Snape raised an eyebrow at the teenagers tears. “Quite a reaction,” he mused angrily. “There are that many lies that I would uncover Harry James? How very disappointing!” Harry cringed at the tone, shaking his head as he closed his eyes. "No there's not!" His voice rose slightly, easily matching Snape's as he opened his eyes once more.

“Don’t you DARE take that tone with me!” Snape hissed. “You are in enough trouble as it is!” Harry stared at the man in a brief moment of defiance, his eyes searching his guardian's before they lowered. "Sorry.." He uttered, his shoulders slouching down. “Go over to the desk and retrieve the paddle this instant!” Snape barked. “That backside of yours clearly needs to be reminded of what lying results in!” "No it doesn't!" There was no helping the raise in his own tone, once more matching Snape's. Snape took hold of his child, spinning him around so that he was facing the direction of the desk. His left hand kept a firm grip on Harry as his right released its grip and cane down in an exceptionally hard smack across the jean clad rear end. “Go!” Snape’s left hand released its grip as well. “Do not make me repeat myself again young man.” Harry choked on a sob as he took a step forward, glaring towards the desk. "Stop yelling at me.." He muttered, sniffing loudly as he started towards the desk. Snape felt a pang of guilt at his actions but he quickly forced them aside. “If you behaved yourself I wouldn’t have to yell would I?” He questioned. Harry didn't respond as he went to the desk, sniffing loudly as he opened the drawer and withdrew the item. He stared at it as he started to walk back to the man. "Then don't get mad if I yell back.." “That cheek of yours is about to earn you a second trip over my knee before you go to bed this evening,” Snape threatened in a promising tone. “In fact perhaps that is not such a bad idea. It could certainly serve as a reminder for you to behave yourself!” Harry paused a few steps away from the man at those words, blinking as several tears fell. "No.." He whispered softly, moving to stand in front of his guardian once more. Snape held his hand out for the paddle. “You are certainly not proving to me that it is not needed.” “Nothing I say will change your mind..” He whispered softly, his eyes falling to Snape’s knee as he placed the paddle in the man’s hand. “Change my mind about what?” Snape leaned over placing the item on the table beside him. “Paddling your disobedient backside?” Harry slowly nodded, taking in a breath as he stared back up at the man. “I’m sorry..” He whispered, rubbing at his eyes once more. Snape reached out unsnapping the boy’s jeans. “Being sorry does not change your misbehavior. Does it?” “No..” He whispered softly, shaking his head. Harry closed his eyes tightly. “It should mean something though..” “I don’t recall saying that it did not.” Snape reached out a finger and tapped the boy’s chin firmly. “What is your backside about to be paddled for young man?” "Don't." Harry couldn't help but start to back up. "I'm sorry for lying, I'm sorry I haven't been doing my work. But I *promise* it'll all be done tonight! And I won't lie again." Snape reached out and easily grabbed hold of the child. “Stop this nonsense at once! You are absolutely going over my knee! I intend to see to it that you are unable to sit without discomfort when we are done here!” Snape began moving the child to his side as he spoke the last words. Tears burned the teen’s eyes, welling up and falling as he was pulled to the side. “I was gunna tell you today..” He offered softly. “I’m sure that you were.” Snape nodded as he reached out and lowered his child’s jeans. “Perhaps after this time you will learn that lying will only result in your nursing a blistered backside.” Harry's shoulders shook with soft sobs, shaking his head slowly. "Sorry.." He whispered softly once more. Snape didn’t respond instead taking a hold on Harry and guiding him over his lap. Once Harry was in position, Snape hooked his fingers into the boy’s shorts and peeled them down as well. His left hand wrapped firmly around the child, holding him in place before he raised his right hand and landed a hard stinging swat to his target. A second later he landed two more stinging swats before he started spanking in earnest, being sure to cover every inch of his target. As every time before then, Harry's right

hand grabbed a handful of Snape's pant leg as he was guided over. His left hand rested on the floor while his face nestled into the crook of that arm. His back tensed as the first smack landed, his tears dampening his sleeve as sobs shook his frame. His bum was already on fire, legs raising in an desperate attempt to block anymore swats. Snape paused for all of a moment when Harry raised his leg. Just long enough to land a particularly hard smack to the back of Harry’s right thigh. “Put that leg down young man,” Snape demanded as his hand moved back to assulting the small backside. Harry yelped at the smack, forcing his legs to lower back down. He rubbed his face into his sleeve, simply sobbing harder. His shoulders heaved as he finally choked out a soft, "Stooop." Snape’s hand stopped falling at the whine as he leaned over and picked up the paddle. “Oh no young man. I have barely even started!” Snape raised the paddle and brought it down on the small red backside. “I certainly hope that your lying was well worth it!” Harry's grip tightened on the man's pant leg, his legs kicking up once more as the paddle was brought down smartly. He yelped once more, releasing his grip to reach the hand back in an attempt to cover his rear. "I-I'm SORRY!" He sobbed. Snape raised an eyebrow at the hand. He stopped, the paddling traveling down to firmly tap the back of the boy’s thigh. “Move that hand,” Snape warned. It took the teen a moment to obey, slowly lowering the hand back down to grip back at the man. His shoulders shook with his sobs, coughing into his arm as he took in a breath. “Very good,” Snape nodded as he tapped Harry’s backside firmly with the paddle. “Now tell me Harry what happens when you lie?” He raised the paddle bringing it down once on each side of the boy’s rear end. "Th-thiiiis!" Harry sobbed loudly into his arm, shifting in clear discomfort and pain. “When do you plan on lying again?” Snape let the paddle fall twice more, once on each side. "N-never!" The teen tightened his grip on the man, his sobs echoing off the walls as he took in a stuttering breath. “When is that schoolwork of yours going to get completed?” The paddle fell once more on each side of the child’s bum. "Toniiight!" Harry whined, attempting to shift his bum away from the man's target. “It had better Harry James! I promise you if even one assignment is late this week you will go right back over my knee. Is that understood?” Snape let the paddle fall twice more. Harry only nodded before he yelped at the smacks. "Y-yes!" He sobbed , several tears falling from his cheeks and landing on the floor below. “Do you think that you can behave yourself or does this spanking need to continue?” Snape landed a hard smack to Harry’s left sit spot. "I-I'll be good.." Harry was sure he wouldn't be sitting all night, his bottom felt on fire! Snape raised the paddle once more, letting it fall on the child’s right sit spot before he placed the paddle back on the table beside him. His left arm loosened its grip on the boy before his right hand moved to gently rub Harry’s back. A moment later, he paused in his actions, reaching down and pulling the boy’s shorts back up to their rightful spot. Harry tensed as the clothing was rightened, his body shaking with his sobs. The teen pushed himself up from the man's lap, pulling his jeans back up with a hiss. He took a half step back, raising his hand and rubbing at his eyes with his wrists. The tears had no end in sight and he gave up on trying to wipe them away. Snape raised a hand, gesturing to the child to take the step and a half to him. Tears fell freely, the teen taking in several sharp breaths as he stepped back up to the man. The moment that Harry was close enough Snape wrapped his arms tightly around the boy. “Take a nice deep breath,” he instructed, his tone now gentle. Harry took in a deep breath as instructed, attempting to hold it in for a moment before a hard sob broke past his lips. His arms wrapped around the man, head bowing down as he continued to take in several deep

breathes. Snape moved the child, gently sitting him on his lap before his right hand moved to rub his back. “Several more deep breaths,” he instructed softly. “Come now, try and calm down.” Harry whined as he was pulled down, shifting so his bottom wasn't resting on Snape's leg. He moved his arms to wrap around the man's middle, closing his eyes. His shoulders hitched as he took in another breath, this time able to slowly release it. “Okay?” Snape questioned gently as he continued to rub the boy’s back. He could feel his shirt beginning to dampen from the child’s tears as he was hit with a sharp pang of guilt at how hard he had just been on his child. Harry shifted his face away from the now damp spot, bowing his head to the top of his head rested against the man's chest. He made no reply, his shoulders shaking as he continued to catch his breath slowly. Snape hummed softly as his left arm moved to pull his child closer to him. His arm remained wrapped around Harry’s middle. “Are you okay?” He tried once more. Harry shook his head slightly against the man's chest. Of course he wasn't okay! Not right then at least. He was miserable and his bum was in the worst pain it had been in for some time. His hold tightened for a minute before he released his left hand, moving it to rub at the tear stains on his cheeks. Still, his tears continued to fall, though his sobs had started to lessen. Harry glanced up at the man, his eyes red and swollen from his crying. "Sorry.." He whispered softly. Snape nodded in reply. “I want you to understand something.” His tone remained gentle. “If you are going to continue going to your godfathers as often as you have been then I need to trust that you are behaving there and doing what you are supposed to be doing.” Harry nodded as Snape spoke, once more rubbing at his eyes and cheeks. "I w-will.." His breath hitched as he spoke, sniffing. Snape nodded once more as he rested his chin on the top of Harry’s head. “I don’t want to have to repeat this lesson Harry.” His right hand softly rubbed the boy’s back once more. “I did not enjoy that in the least.” Harry shook his head at the words, closing his eyes tightly as a quieter sob passed his lips. Snape leaned back in his chair, bringing Harry with him and adjusting him slightly on his lap. “What is going on in that mind of yours? Hmm?” Harry twisted himself in the man's lap so he was more resting on his stomach against the man's front. "I'm just s-sorry.." His breath hitched once more as he spoke, taking in another calming breath. “I forgive you.” Snape’s voice was soft and gentle. “However I meant what I said, you have a long night of schoolwork ahead of you.” The teen nodded, rubbing his face against Snape's cloak with a wince. "I-I know." “You can stay where you are and continue to calm down and rest a bit first,” Snape decided as his hand rested on the small of Harry’s back. "No.. I-I'll go get e-everything.." Harry rubbed his eyes once more, starting to push himself up carefully. “I am allowing you twenty minutes to calm yourself down. You are sure you don’t want to take advantage of that?” Snape questioned gently. Harry nodded, pushing himself up fully with a wince. He didn't wait for his guardian to say anything more, moving across the parlor and starting up the stairs to both gather his school items and change into his pajamas. Snape nearly insisted that his child take his advice and rest but he thought better of it. Harry had a lot to catch up on and if he was so determined to start now, Snape was not going to stop him. As Harry disappeared up the stairs the man stood and picked up the paddle. He walked across the living room and returned it to the desk drawer. He had quite a few papers to grade that evening and instantly decided that he would work in the kitchen and keep his child company. He picked up the large stack of them, carrying them out of the room. A moment later he sat down at the kitchen table and began reading the first essay. It took the teen near ten minutes to come back downstairs, holding his

school bag in hand as he entered the kitchen. He took a seat next to his guardian, visibly wincing as he did so. Harry swallowed heavily as he leaned over to take out his charms book, opening it to where he had been working previously. Sniffing, he laid his parchment back out before he silently started to work. Snape watched the boy out of the corner of his eye for several long moments before he went back to his grading. His eyes scanned the words as he tried to concentrate on his work. It was proving to be near impossible however. It wasn’t like Harry to sit with him for such a short time after his punishment. It wasn’t like him to refuse to rest afterwards either. Harry rested his head in his left hand as he scanned his book. He wanted everything done and over. He wanted the day over all together. A few tears escaped and he quickly wiped them away with his thumb. Snape’s felt his heart hurt as he caught the child brushing his stray tears away. He set down his quill, sitting up properly, his eyes fixed on his child. “Why the tears, Harry?” He took extra care to make sure his voice was as gentle as it could possibly be. Harry placed his own quill down carefully, resting his forehead within both hands. "I mucked up e-everything.." He whispered. "I g-gotta tell Sirius too." “You made a mistake and you were thoroughly punished for it. I am sure that your godfather will forgive you.” Snape waved a hand causing a box of tissues to appear in front of Harry. Lowering his hands, Harry took a tissue and rubbed his eyes with it. "He'll be upset.." He whispered softly. "And Remus was angry.. and you too." Snape hummed softly at the words before leaning forward. He rested his elbows on the table as he put his face closer to his child’s. “You lied to us Harry. Did you honestly think that we would not be cross when we found out?” Harry lowered his hands down, placing the tissue next to his book as he rested his head back in his left hand. He looked over at his guardian as the man spoke, his eyes still red from his tears. "No." “I have forgiven you and if I know Remus at all, he has as well.” Snape reached a hand out placing it on top of his son’s. “It will all be okay.” Harry slowly nodded at the words, keeping his hand under his guardian's for a few moments before he slowly pulled it away. He simply picked up his quill, attempting to focus back on his school work. “What is it that you have to do for Charms this week?” Snape questioned as he moved his hand back, picking up his quill once more. "Two feet on the banishing charm, like when it would be useful and all- and also start reading the chapter about 'Scourgify'." Harry rubbed under his eyes, shifting in his seat with a wince. Snape hummed softly forcing himself to ignore the wince. “How much of it have you completed so far?” "Like.. half a foot.." He admitted softly. "Then I gotta do three feet on the properties of bubotuber pus for Herbology. And start reading about the Goblin wars."

Snape considered the list of work the boy still had to complete. He knew his rear end had to be aching in the hard kitchen chair. The child also must have been tired from all his tears. He still needed to eat dinner as well. “Finish your Charms work and we will take a break for dinner.” “I’m not that hungry.” Harry shook his head as he continued to write, sniffing softly. “I just want to finish everything..” “What if I said that I would allow you to stop after Charms and work on the rest tomorrow?” Snape gave the boy a questioning glance. Harry paused, leaning back to rub at his left eye roughly. He gave the man a skeptical look. Not even half an hour ago, he was sworn to finish it all tonight. “But..” He looked back down at the work he had done so far, suddenly feel exhausted and also the pain hadn’t lessened at all. “Your rear end cant be comfortable in that chair. I also know you well enough to know that you are likely exhausted from your tears.” Snape’s voice was soft as he spoke. “Are my assumptions correct?” Harry closed his eyes, slowly nodding with a soft “Yeah..” “Being exhausted and in pain is not going to make for your work to be done properly.” Snape sighed softly. “My schedule is quite light tomorrow. I think perhaps I will teach my morning class at nine and then spend the rest of the day home with you.” He paused as he looked over to he child. “Finish Charms so that we can eat some supper and then I think you and I will have a bit of a talk out in the parlor.” Harry couldn’t help but feel relieved and also worried. He loved that Snape was going to stay, mostly, home with him. But in turn, he was worried about their talk. “About what?” He casted the man a glance, looking back down to his book. “You aren’t in any trouble, I promise you.” Snape turned his attention back to the papers that he was grading. “Finish your Charms work and think about what you would like for dinner.” "Shepherd pie." Came the teen's instant reply as he continued to work. He glanced up at Snape, giving a small grin. "It's been awhile since I've had that." “I believe that can be arranged,” Snape nodded. “Now finish your essay please.” He made several check marks on the essay that he was grading before setting it in his completed pile and moving on to the next one. Silence fell over the pair for nearly half an hour, Harry finally closing his book and pushing it away. He placed the parchment on top of it carefully. "Done." He murmured, resting his cheek back in his hand as he looked over at the man. Snape finished writing a few comments on the essay he was grading before he looked up at his child. He held a hand out. “Let me see your essay please.” He reached for it, carefully passing it over to the man. Snape began reading the essay, stopping after a moment to look up at his child. “Put your books away.” As the words left his mouth his eyes lowered once more as he continued reading. A moment later he held the essay out for Harry to take back. “Very good,” he nodded. “Very good indeed.” Harry did as he was asked, placing his bag back down and taking the essay with a small grin. "Thanks." He rolled it up and placed the parchment on top of his bag. Snape waved a hand causing the essays that he was working on to relocate themselves back to his desk in the parlor. A moment later he tapped the table causing their dinner of shepherds pie to appear. “Eat and then you have my word that we will relocate to the parlor so you can sit more comfortably.” Harry shifted, nodding at the words. He winced, rubbing under his right eye. The skin was still red and sore, but he lowered his hand back down to pick up his fork. "Thanks.." He muttered softly, taking a bite. “There is no need to thank me.” Snape picked up his own fork eating a bite. After he swallowed he opened his mouth once more. “I should not have told you that you had to complete all your work tonight. I apologize for that.” "I wanted to try." Harry sighed, taking several more bites before taking a long sip of water. “I know.” Snape nodded after swallowing

another bite of his meal. “I respect that but as I said, given your current state, it will not make for good work.” Snape held up a hand before Harry could reply. “Not that your essay was not good because it was but an hour or so from now you will be fighting to keep your eyes open.” Harry nodded, rubbing his left eye as he continued to eat in silence once more. It felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. He didn’t have to stress about getting everything done that night. Snape finished his meal in silence tapping the table once causing his plate to vanish when he was done. He looked over to Harry’s plate pleaded to see that despite his child claiming that he wasn’t hungry he had eaten more than half of his dinner so far. Harry took a few more bites before he pushed his plate away slowly and looked up to his guardian. Without any prompting, the teen stood up with a sigh. The pain his bum was in was still terrible, and being able to stand did help just slightly. Snape tapped the table once more causing Harry’s plate to vanish as well. A moment later the man stood. He walked over to Harry placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. He gave it a light squeeze as he cleared his throat. “Feed Bane his dinner and then come see me in the parlor.” Harry watched the man, nodding as he moved over to Bane’s dish. The dog stood up from his bed, tail wagging as he moved over to Harry and waited patiently for his food. Harry glanced over his shoulder to see Snape had already stepped into the parlor. With a slightly grin, Harry filled his pet’s food dish and reached into the dog’s treat jar. “Here boy..” Bane sniffed the treat before he carefully took it, eating it first before he moved to his food. Harry sighed, stepping around Bane and moving into the parlor. Snape looked up from his spot in his armchair as his son walked into the room. “Did you want to come sit with me or would you prefer to sit on the couch?” Harry stepped over to his guardian, suddenly feeling like a child. He paused, biting his lip. “I’m not too old?” He knew he had been sitting with his guardian several times this year, but he couldn’t help but wonder if Snape thought he shouldn’t be.. “Perhaps,” Snape nodded as he reached out and took a gentle hold of the boy’s hand pulling him the last two steps to him. “However I don’t particularly care.” Harry sighed as he sat on the man’s leg before he adjusted himself to lie down across his lap. He rested his head on Snape’s shoulder, stretching his legs out to rest across the arm of the chair. Snape half grinned at the action before he looked down at his child. “I think we need to have a bit of a talk about your schoolwork.” “I’ll get it all done..” Harry sighed, nestling his head into the man’s cloak. “I know that you will.” Snape nodded. “As I said I intend to come home before lunch tomorrow and spend the better part of the day seeing that it is completed. I was referring to future schoolwork. I think perhaps I have been wrong in allowing you to do it as you please throughout the week. I think that you need more structure.” Harry took in a breath at the words, pressing his head further against the man. “I don’t need like.. a schedule. I’ll get better though.” “I disagree,” Snape said softly. “I think that you absolutely need a schedule of sorts. At the very least I think my telling you which classes I expect completed each day would be helpful. I also intend to start checking your work every evening.” Harry couldn’t help the “Uugh..” that passed his lips, shifting into a more comfortable position. “I swear I’ll get better, Snape.” Snape could not help but raise an eyebrow at the teenagers sound of annoyance. “I am sure you could on your own as well but we are going to try my way first. I will write up a daily schedule for you. You can start following it next week.” Snape’s hand moved to rest on Harry’s knee. “Fine..” He uttered softly, closing his eyes after a moment. “Though I don’t need it.” “I’m sure you don’t however I would like to see if it is helpful at all. As I

said I will also be checking your work nightly,” Snape’s hand gently tapped the boy’s knee. “Don’t even think about falling asleep on me. You are heading up to bed momentarily.” Harry opened his eyes at the words, raising he left hand to rub at his eyes. “Sorry.” He whispered, instead keeping his gaze on his knees. He would of liked to stay where he was. But after such a punishment, the teen felt all argument leave him. Snape hummed softly. “I will allow the subject to be your choice but tomorrow morning when I return home from Hogwarts I expect at least one subject completed.” Harry nodded at the words, releasing a slow breath. “Okay.” He agreed. That could be done, easily as well. “Okay.” Snape nodded as well. “Is there anything you wish to discuss before you head up to bed?” Harry looked ready to say something, falling silent for several moments before he shook his head. “No..” He started to carefully push himself up from the man’s lap. Snape raised an eyebrow at the boy’s actions. “Honestly, Harry you act as though I do not know you at all. What is it that you were just about to say? Hmm?” “I just wanted to stay down here.” He stood, looking down as Bane entered the room. Harry smiled softly, leaning to rub at the dog’s ear. Snape hummed softly at the request. “Has Bane been outside recently?” “Was a couple of hours ago..” Harry remained in his spot, standing up straight as Bane moved over to his guardian. “Take him out and allow me time to consider your request. I am not sure that after your behavior you deserve to be allowed to sleep down here tonight.” Harry’s gaze remained down at the words, gently patting his leg. “C'mon boy..” He whispered softly, walking towards the back door with Bane trotting behind him. Opening the door, Bane trotted out happily as Harry leaned against the door. Snape raised an eyebrow as he watched his child leave the room. He nearly rolled his eyes at his dramatics. As if not being permitted to sleep on the couch would just destroy his entire night. Snape picked up the book that was sitting on his side table, opening to where he had left off as he waited for his child to return. After several minutes, Harry re-emerged into the parlor. Bane remained in the kitchen, going to his water bowl. Snape’s eyes remained on his book as he cleared his throat. “Go get your pillow and blanket.” A faint smile crossed the teen’s lips at that, taking a step backward before he went up the stairs. It didn’t take long for the teen to come back down, swallowing as he winced in pain. He placed his pillow down at the edge of the couch, tossing his blanket down beside he curled under it and laid on his side. Harry faced his guardian, his arm tucking under his pillow. “Thanks..” Snape nodded his eyes staying on his book as he finished the last sentence of the chapter he was reading. A moment later he closed his book, looking over to his child. “Okay?” He questioned softly. Harry nodded slightly, nestling his cheek against his pillow with a small smile. “Yeah..” He whispered, eyes closing after a moment. “‘M okay..” Snape hummed softly with a curious raised eyebrow. “That wince a moment ago told a different story.” Harry wrapped his arm tightly around his pillow. “Just hurts..” He whispered, rolling to lay more on his stomach. Snape cleared his throat slightly as he stood. “It must be hurting less by this point.” He moved across the room, taking hold of Harry’s blanket and pulling it up over his shoulder. “Hardly..” He muttered, using his free hand to hold onto the blanket and tuck it under his chin. Snape hummed softly as he sat on the edge of the couch. His hand moved, resting softly on the small of Harry’s back. “I sure that by the morning it will be long forgotten.” Harry kept his eyes closed as he felt the couch dip slightly. “Hope so..” He whispered, sleep instantly pulling at the teen’s mind. Snape’s hand moved to begin rubbing the teenager’s back softly. “I am certain it will be.”

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hopelikethemoon · 4 years

Text

maybe (Javier x Reader)

shoutout to @baar-ur who asked for this incredibly angsty prompt

Title: maybe Rating: PG-13 (language and allusions to sex) Warning: Lots of language, name-calling, miscommunication, everyone’s an asshole, ANGST, so much angst, pregnant!reader

You had been in a lot of difficult situations throughout the course of your career — shootouts, drug busts, asshole bosses paired with the government’s blind eye towards rampant sexism in the workplace. You had faced a lot of shit, but none of it had prepared you for the fallout of sleeping with your partner.

It all started the weekend after Escobar died. Murphy announced he was heading back to America now that the hunt for Escobar was finished taking both you and Javier by surprise. Escobar hadn’t been the only narcos on the DEA’s radar and you had both anticipated that he’d stay on to go after the next cartel. It was Javier’s idea to have a going away party for Steve, but in the end it was less about the party and more about you and Javi closing out the bar at two in the morning. Murphy and Connie left at a reasonable hour, leaving the two of you to drink your cares away.

Without Murphy there as a buffer, you and Javier were fucked. Literally.

As you stood in your bathroom, staring at your towel-clad reflection in the mirror, the irony wasn’t lost on you. This whole mess had started in a bathroom and now, as you stood with a pregnancy test sitting on your bathroom sink, it was becoming a reality in a bathroom too. Nothing good ever came to fruition in a bathroom.

Just last week, Javier had been bragging with one of the newer agents about having to bang another hooker-informant. What happened between the two of you had meant nothing and with each passing day of awkward glances and short conversations, you realized Murphy had been the glue holding your friendship together.

You and Javier were nothing but partners and fucking him had ruined any chance of being friends. Now a positive pregnancy test would ruin any chance of remaining partners with him.

For a week you debated whether or not you would even tell him. It was none of his business really — you’d be fine if the entire department thought some wayward one night stand had knocked you up. But the guilt of keeping him in the dark eventually ate at you. You had to tell him, regardless of his reaction.

The worst-case scenario would be that he wanted to get reassigned a new partner and given how awkward he’d made things since Murphy’s going away party — you wouldn’t actually be against it. A little distance would probably do you some good.

It was probably a mistake to tell him while he was driving.

He’d actually been in a decent mood as the pair of you set out to stake out the house of one of the cartel members. The whole morning had felt like you were walking through a vivid waking dream. Hell, you hardly even remembered a word your boss had said during the briefing.

You slid into the passenger seat beside Javier and stared at him as he pushed his aviator’s up the bridge of his nose, watching his mouth as he silently sang along to whatever was playing over the car’s grainy radio.

He’d been in a good mood right up until the moment you said—

“I’m pregnant.”

Javier’s foot hit the break a little too harshly at the next red light, his fingers curling tightly around the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white.

“Why are you telling me?”

You pushed your fingers through your hair and stared out the window to your right. “Why do you think I’m telling you?”

He slammed his fist into the center of the steering wheel, the car horn making you nearly jump out of your skin. “Goddammit.” He hissed out as he drove the car down an alley and put it into park.

“I’m keeping it.” You told him quietly. “With or without you.”

He pulled his aviators off and tossed them onto the dashboard. You watched as he dragged his hands over his face, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths, before he turned his anger in your direction. “Were you going to fucking tell me? It’s been three fucking months since Murphy fucked off back to the states.Three months!”

“I wanted to tell you sooner,” You started, keeping your voice steady. “But I didn’t know how you’d react.” Your brows rose upwards as you met his heated gaze. “You’ve been a real jackass ever since that night. This,” You gestured to the current situation. “is about what I expected.”

“No shit.” Javier snapped. “You should’ve fucking told me sooner.”

“So I could subject myself to this sooner?” You questioned, your own anger boiling to the surface. “I mean, I guess I could’ve pulled you aside last week after you got done telling Tom about the hooker you’d fucked. But that seemed like a bro moment and I didn’t want to interrupt.”

The color seemed to drain out of his face as he stared at you. The silence was more unnerving than his shouting. “You weren’t there when I woke up.”

You swallowed thickly as you held his gaze. “Did you want me to be there? I mean I know you, Javi. I know how you operate.” You shook your head. “I left to spare myself the awkward morning after.”

He sank back against his seat, hitting his head against the headrest twice before he finally found his words. “You can sit there and call me a jackass all you want, but you’ve been a bitch to me ever since that night. I tried. I fucking tried.”

“You tried?” You laughed harshly, shaking your head. “How the fuck did you try, Peña?”

“I brought you coffee.”

You stared at him, your mouth going dry. He had brought you coffee that Monday after. He’d left it sitting on your desk for you. He was already in meetings by the time you rolled into the office, but you had known it was from him. “I thought you were just… I don’t know.” Your shoulders sagged. “I thought it was like an olive branch.”

“I tried to get you to go out with me. You shot me down.”

“When?”

“A week after, maybe two. Fuck if I remember we were swamped with paperwork.” Javier dragged his fingers through his hair, staring out the driver’s side window. “It was late, eight or nine. I asked if you wanted to grab a drink and you laughed at me.”

Your heart clenched as you recalled that precise encounter. “Shit.” You breathed out and covered your face. “I had just puked my guts out in the bathroom. I was just trying to get you out of the office before I puked again.”

Javi let out a near-hysterical laugh as he turned his head to look at you. “I thought you were blowing me off. I gave up then. I figured you’d regretted that night and I had to stop chasing you like a dumbass.”

“I didn’t realize.” You chewed on your bottom lip, feeling a surge of raw emotion come over you. “I hate hormones.” You lamented as you covered your face to hide the tears that were now spilling from your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“No, baby. Don’t apologize.” Javier drawled out as he reached across the car and squeezed your leg. “I should’ve said something.”

You shook your head, wiping at your tears. “What were you going to say? What was I going to say? We’re both fucking idiots.”

“It’s all gone to shit without Murphy.”

“Yeah.” You said weakly as you sniffed, staring out your window.

Javier kept his hand on your thigh, his fingertips drawing little circles against your pant leg. It was kind of annoying, but you knew he was just trying to be comforting.

“I don’t expect you to be involved.” You finally spoke again. “I wouldn’t blame you. I don’t want or need your money.” You held up your hand when he started to interrupt you. “No one has to ever know who the baby’s father is.”

“Are you going back to the states?”

You shook your head. “I don’t plan to. I’m sure they’ll try to hassle me into going back, but I’m not. I’ll take desk duty if I have to.”

“So you’d just… What?” Javier’s grip on your thigh tightened. “Make me sit across the office from you, watching our kid grow and… pretend it’s not mine? I don’t know what kind of person you think I am, but—”

“You left your highschool sweetheart at the altar, Javi. You’re the kind of man who has one night stands and fucks hookers. You’re the perpetual bachelor and that’s fine.” New anger was brewing in your words. “I respect you enough to not want to ruin your M.O.”

“How many times are you going to throw who I fuck in my face?”

You laughed harshly.

“Are you jealous?” He continued.

“Am I jealous of the women you pay to fuck? No. I can’t say I am.” You stared at him pointedly.

“You broke my goddamn heart when I woke up and you weren’t there.” Javier admitted with a deadly serious tone. “I thought we’d finally figured this out. But instead I woke up alone and confused.”

“You have a heart?” Now you were just being mean for the sake of being mean.

“Fuck you.” He snapped, pulling his hand away from your thigh.

“That’s what got us into this situation.”

“This isn’t a fucking game.” Javier snarled. “I don’t want to just be some deadbeat dad. Do you get that?”

“So you want to be involved?”

“With you.” He raked his fingers over his face, pressing his palms against his eyes as he let out a frustrated sound. “I want to be involved with you. Not just ‘cause you’re knocked up either. You and me? We can figure this out.”

You stared at him like he was speaking a foreign language. You couldn’t believe Javier Peña was admitting that he wanted to be with you. You.

“You don’t have to say that.” You stated. “If this is just because I’m pregnant, if this is some white knight bullshit. I don’t want it, Javi. I don’t want to put myself through it and I damn well don’t want to put our kid through it.”

“For fuck’s sake.” He stared up at the roof of the car. “Am I not making sense? Have I not made it clear enough that I wanted you.”

“But I know how you are, Javi.” You frowned as you stared at him. “You have this whole little life of yours—”

“I’m lonely.” Javier confessed, his voice actually cracking. “So fucking lonely.” He slowly turned to look at you, his dark gaze full of emotion. “I’ve spent the last three months feeling like I’m going crazy. I lost Murphy and then I thought I was losing you.”

“Javi—”

“Don’t, ‘Javi’ me.” He snapped. “Do you want this?”

You stared at him, breathless, for what felt like a small eternity. “Yes.”

His seatbelt snapped against the side of the car as he hastily undid it, surging across the center console. He cupped your cheek, dragging you into a surprisingly gentle kiss that stood in stark contrast with the anger that had flared between you.

Maybe it was a mistake. You were both volatile people, you always had been. Maybe it would end in flames in a week or a month or twenty years down the line. But maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe it would work out. Maybe you and Javi were going to be alright.

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal x reader

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acciomalfoy · 4 years

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PRANK WARS (GEORGE WEASLEY X READER)

Warnings: none

“You have been chosen. Within this box contains hundreds, if not a thousand Weasley Wizard’s Wheezes products. This year, we have elected one wizard from the houses of Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin to assist us in popping the vein on Snape’s head. None of you know the others identities. Your job is pranking every house mate you have, and avoiding suspicion. If you are caught, you will become our number one target. Winner takes all, and the prize is worth more than it’s weight in gold. Good luck.” I breathed, reading the letter in the parcel. Luckily the package had had a note on the side warning the receiver to open in their room. I hadn’t been expecting anything, and I hadn’t seen if any owls had flown in with a matching parcel. I opened the package, and I grinned. It was bright, bursting with colours and tricks. My brain was already planning just how I was going to trick the rest of Slytherin house.

I walked silently, pondering about whether or not my plan would work. I hoped it did. I didn’t want to disappoint Fred or George, however annoying they were in classes. I wonder how they had chosen me, and then I wondered who else they had chosen. They didn’t choose anyone from Gryffindor I noticed, which meant they had big plans for their house. I hoped mine didn’t pale in comparison. The Great Hall was already open, as it opens before five on Monday, Wednesday, Friday and Sunday’s. Unsurprisingly, the room was empty of people.

I walked over to the Slytherin table, and fished my bag of tricks out of my pocket. I dropped a couple of Weasely’s Snaps into each goblet. Once the goblets were shaken, or even moved in some cases they would pop, causing the drink to explode in the drinkers face. In order to not arise suspicion, I put the Snaps in every goblet, so even I would fall victim. They were also charmed, so when I said the word “fumious” they would explode. Then I snuck back to the common room, and more importantly, my bed.

My roommate, Astoria, woke me up by shrieking into my ear, and I almost bit her nose off.

“Shove off, Tori.” I groaned, getting out of bed despite my protesting. She laughed and began getting changed. I turned my bisexual ass around and got changed facing the other direction. My wand was on my bedside table, and I accio’d it to me as we walked out the door. The common room was loud as usual, and it resembled my anticipation for breakfast.

“I’m starving. What did we have for dinner last night again?” Astoria walked like she was on a runway, and I laughed.

“What do you think you’re doing? Walking like you’re actually cool makes you look like you’ve got a stick up your ass.” She winked at me.

“Maybe I do.” I mimed vomiting.

“You’re gross! Go kiss Flint!” I laughed again at her reaction.

“Ew! I do not intend to touch that bastard, let alone- let alone- no, I can’t even say it.” We were still laughing as we entered the great hall. Everyone was chattering, and it seemed my Snaps hadn’t gone off yet. Just wait for it. We sat down, and piled our plates. I lifted my goblet, filled with water of course, and made sure as many people were holding their goblets as possible.

“Fumious.” The beautiful word was spoken by yours truly, and the Snaps flew into everyone’s faces. Pandemonium struck, and screams erupted from the Slytherin table. The water in my face was actually quite refreshing, but I feigned a look of shock. If only these bitches knew. I saw McGonagall stand up in surprise, followed by Snape. I snuck a look at George, and he was grinning at me. I grinned back proudly, and snickered at the rest of my house.

Later that day we had potions. Snape was assigning us our partners for the term, and it was shaping up to be a Slytherin-Gryffindor mix.

“Y/n L/n and Fred Weasley.” I looked up when someone sat beside me.

“George? Why are you here?” George winked at me, and I raised an eyebrow.

“Nice prank this morning. It was pretty cool. How did you get them all to go off at the same time?” He asked curiously. I assembled the potions ingredients and smiled mysteriously.

“Little trick I learnt. You didn’t actually think you two were the only ones who prank people at Hogwarts, did you?” One look at George’s face told me did. I laughed.

“Hey! How did you do it? It could drastically improve our performances!” He pleaded. I shook my head smugly.

“Sorry, Georgie. This spell is for my family only.” I laughed when he scowled, but I saw a looming presence headed our way.

“Ten points from Gryffindor for distracting Miss L/n.” Snape walked away as quickly as he arrived, and George’s classmates groaned. Fred grinned.

“So, how did you choose the three people?” I asked, preparing the potion ingredients.

“Tell me how you did the spell and I will.” George tapped his nose.

“No way. I don’t care that much. I think I’ll go tell Snape that you’re in the wrong seat.” I went to stand up and George yanked me down.

“You do that and you’re dead. You’ll become the target of every prank we pull.” He glared at me and I laughed.

“Only kidding, George. Lighten up a little, anyone would think you’re related to Snape.” He scowled at me and I smiled, adding asphodel roots to the potion.

It was two days before my next prank. I had been practising this one like crazy, because levitation was hard enough when you weren’t levitating sixty plates at once. The other houses had done their first pranks throughout the two days, and meal times were the prime time. Every time we sat down for meals, students anticipated the prank, but never who it was for, and never what it was.

When we sat down for dinner, I fiddled with my wand under the table, practising that damn swish and flick. I piled some pasta onto my plate, and I scanned the table to make sure everyone had food on their plate.

“Wingardium Leviosa!” I muttered. The plates, sixty fucking plates, all flew up. The hall was filled with loud laughter and groans, and the Slytherins tried to reach theirs, which was settled above their heads. The plates only went higher, always just out of reach. Snape stood, and marched over to the table. The plates all moved towards Snape like he was a magnet. He was surrounded, and still out of reach from them. All we could see was a tornado of plates, no Snape.

“Oh my god!” Astoria squealed, and I gasped with her.

“Where did he go?” I laughed and tried to peer through the tornado.

“Is he dead?” Shit, I fucking hope not. I moved the plates away, and they settled back on the table, in completely different spots.

“Who the fuck eats meatloaf?” I stared at the lump in front of me. Hmm, that would be a good prank.

“Just get a roll and put it in there. Tastes slightly more bearable.” Astoria had a tuna salad, that stunk.

“Tuna smells, but it doesn’t taste that bad. No, I am not swapping for your meatloaf.” I groaned, and poked the meatball with the fork. Snape slunk back to the teachers table, and that was the end of that.

George caught my eye when Astoria and I were leaving the Great Hall. He winked, and I winked back.

Two days later I had a new plan. This one, like the plates, didn’t involve one of the twins products. This was just me and my words. With the help of the house elves, of course.

I made up an excuse to skip our free last period, telling Tori I had to talk a professor. I didn’t say which one, and she didn’t ask. I went to the kitchens, and with a tickle of a pear I entered. House elves were bustling about, and I stopped one.

“Hi!”

When I left, it was with a smug smile and chocolate around my lips.

We sat down, the food already appearing. It looked delicious, as always. I didn’t quite know what to grab, knowing it all tasted the same. I decided on my usual, delicious cheesy pizza. I put on my plate, and filled my goblet with juice before hearing the shouts.

I feigned shock on the off chance anyone was looking at me, and I craned my neck to see the commotion.

Astoria spat out the pizza she had just taken a bite of, and took a gulp of her goblet.

“What the fuck is wrong with this pizza?” She looked so disgusted, and I laughed.

“What do you mean? I know you’re picky but damn, did you have to come after pizza? It didn’t do anything wrong-” She shoved her slice in my mouth and I groaned, biting down. It tasted like shit. Personally, I’ve never eaten shit, but it tasted like the scent of Astoria after she ate baked beans. I spat it out into my napkin, and almost threw up.

“Ew!” I didn’t realise it would taste quite as bad as this. The house elves had truly outdone themselves. With a flick of my wand the taste of shit was vanished from the food, and I picked up my pizza.

“Let’s try mine.” I took a bite, and the cheesy goodness overwhelmed me. I sighed in happiness, and practically shoved the slice in Astoria’s mouth. She glared at me as she chewed, but it turned into a dreamy look. I picked up another slice and took a bite. Delicious.

“Hey, it tastes good now!” Millicent Bulstrode, a girl a couple years below us, belted out. Everyone hurriedly took another bite, collective sighs of relief filling the room. Astoria and I shared relieved grins, and I wondered what the hell I could do top my previous pranks.

We heard the next morning on our way to breakfast. Roger Davies had been caught by Filch trying to slip frogs into the Ravenclaw’s breakfast! Pansy, a girl in Millicent’s year, spilled the news excitedly.

“Apparently there’s been a competition, it’s not just pranks for fun. I heard that two people from each house were chosen by the Weasleys to battle it out it pranks. See you!” She whisked off to spread the news to others, while Tori and I shared a look.

“This does sound very, how will I put it, Weasley.” I said, and Astoria laughed.

“True. I wonder who the Slytherin students are.” We looked around at the group that was with us, trying to figure out who it was. Or, in my case, trying to act like it wasn’t me. We reached the Great Hall, to see the Weasely twins with Roger at the front, talking with Dumbledore. That couldn’t be good. Tori and I took our usual seats, when Malfoy sat on the other side of me.

“Hey L/n.” I eyed him suspiciously.

“Morning Malfoy.” He gave me a small smile before turning to his friend on his other side.

“That was weird.” I murmured to Tori, who shook her head.

“He likes you. Godric, Malfoy likes you!” I laughed hysterically, choking on my orange juice. Tori was funny.

“I’m serious-“

“Attention, please. Could the two students from Slytherin and Hufflepuff involved in the Weasley twins, ahem, contest, please make their way to the front.” The hall fell silent, and I eyed the Hufflepuff table. Who was going to stand up? When Cedric Diggory, the dreamy curly haired boy stood up, I gasped.

“Where’s Slytherin’s competitor?” Tori glanced around the table, and when I stood up, she gasped.

“You bitch!” I hid my smile as I walked up, my cheeks burning red. This was so embarrassing.

“In case students were unaware, these three students recently undertook a challenge set by the Weasley twins. Best pranks win until someone gets caught. To determine who’s pranks were the best, the loudest applause takes the title of Vice Pranker. Applause for Davies.” The Great Hall erupted in chatter and claps, and I knew that it would be silent when my name was called.

“Diggory.” Hufflepuffs are loud, I’ll give them that. The screaming that was heard was deafening, and I grinned at Diggory. I never would have guessed him.

“L/n.” The Great Hall shook, and I covered my mouth. For what must have been the first time in Hogwarts history, Slytherin and Gryffindor were on the same side. Who would have guessed?

“Y/n L/n, I now pronounce you Vice Pranker. Will you please step forward and close your eyes to claim your prize.” My eyes searched Tori’s in the crowd, but I couldn’t see her. I stepped forward hesitantly, closing my eyes. I heard shuffling, and when lips met mine, I opened my eyes. George stepped back and grinned.

“Vice Pranker. Pleasure to meet you.”

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #harry potter #gryffindor

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wifeofkimtaehyungofbts · 3 years

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Chapter 11

>> Pairing: Taehyung x Y/N, Taehyung x reader

>> Words: 2,379

>> Notes: I’m going to upload a new chapter whenever possible. Please bear with my hectic schedule! You may leave asks and let me know what you think of my writing (:

Synopsis: You run into a rather strange man one night. He seems terrified, as if fighting battles only he can see. He seems detached from the world, talking only to a voice inside his head. Oh, another strange fact: he keeps talking about angels. You discover later that you were the angel he was praying to.

>> Previous / Next

“Hey"

I jolted at the sudden voice echoing against the walls of the eerily quiet changing room of the McDonald’s.

Jungkook was leaning against the door. His apron was thrown over his shoulder and he cocked his head at me.

“Wanna go out tonight?”

“Huh?” I wasn’t quite sure I heard him right. Jeon Jungkook. The guy that hardly ever talks to anyone. The handsome guy who shies away from girls at the cashier trying to get his number. The guy who leaves work without sparing a second for an after-work chat with his colleagues. Wants to go out with me?

I continued to stare at him in shock. Instead of breaking the awkward silence between us, he stared back at me. His dark chocolate brown eyes looked deep. Not in the romantic sense. It almost seemed like there was an entirely different person behind them. If the person differed from the one who stood before me in a good way or a bad way, I couldn’t tell. But what I could tell was that if I didn’t reply fast, we'd be staring into each other for all of eternity.

“Don’t you have work?” I raised an eyebrow at him. “You are supposed to fill me in tonight because Felix had an emergency at his house and couldn’t make it”

“I got someone else to cover for me" he shrugged.

I wanted to know more but I figured it didn’t really matter as long as my shift was covered and he didn’t get into trouble either.

“Gimme a minute. I need to wash my face” I said turning my back on him.

As I busied myself removing my hair tie and gathering my hair in a bun, I felt someone lightly brush against my back. I wanted to turn but it felt too cold.

“You look beautiful Y/N" Jungkook whispers, his warm breath blowing the hair at the top of my head.

In reflexive panic, I grabbed my bag pack and dashed to the girl’s bathroom. I couldn’t calm my racing heart as I tried to shake off the eerie coldness I felt a few seconds ago.

Why did Jungkook come onto me so suddenly? And what’s with the compliment? I mean sure, thank you but it felt so off. He didn’t sound sweet or shy when he said it. He sounded stern, like he was stating a matter of fact I better believe else.... else?

Else what, Y/N? He was going to kill you??

I slapped myself for overthinking and washed my face before hurrying to the front. My colleagues were busy with customers so I couldn’t wave them goodbye. I stepped outside to the chilly air, spotting Jungkook standing by the road. I walked up to him and smiled warmly.

He looked down at me and smiled back. “Do you like pizza?”

“Who doesn’t!” I giggled, already drooling at the mere idea of pizza.

He laughed as we started walking towards the Arthur’s Pizzeria around the corner.

We were seated by the window across from each other. The table was too big for just us two, but we were glad no one else attempted to sit with us. It was fine, just the two of us.

We ordered our pizzas and spoke about ourselves as we waited for the food.

I found out Jungkook is from Busan and he was studying music at the campus. He was in fact a top graduate from Busan Arts School along with some guy whose name Jungkook doesn’t remember. He likes to play video games and tries new activities every weekend. Last week he had attempted fishing with a friend of his and they ended up catching no fish but a cold so bad, Jungkook requested for an extension on his vocal exam. Oh, and he hates reading.

I told him about the time I submitted the wrong thesis paper for my semester end assignment and had to retake the whole module all over again in the next semester. He asked my favourite colour, movie and book. He judged me for being a book worm and laughed when I pouted at him in annoyance.

Our food arrived soon and we didn’t talk as we devoured the delicious, thin, saucy pizza. I caught him watching me from the corner of my eye but I made no attempt to eat decently. It’s not like I want to impress him or anything anyways.

Three girls seated at the table next to us wooow’ed at the sight of Jungkook. They turned their attention to me and stared on with disgust.

“What’s someone like him doing with someone like her?”

“God knows! See this is why we never get to experience anything good. Because the good guys are always after someone so random”

“It must be true love if he actually chose someone like her. I mean, look at her hair!”

I could even hear their eye rolls as loud as I heard their words. It pricked and I found myself slowing my eating. I suddenly couldn’t chew anymore. I felt restrained. Like someone had put handcuffs and a leash on me and I had to strain against them to take a bite of my pizza.

Growing up, I haven’t had the most stable family. My fatherless life had involved trying to work odd jobs since I was 13 and missing out mile stones other girls got to experience during their teen years. My first kiss wasn’t under a starry night with my first love, it was rushed and filled with greed at the car park of the local book store. And he cheated on me a week later with the girl who sat next to me at chemistry. The man I first shared a bed with was not looking for a long-term relationship and left me when he found a full time, high wage job at his uncle’s company in New York. My mother was crippling, losing a bit of herself every passing day until one day she came down the stairs to have her tea and I couldn’t even recognize her anymore. My sisters were still too young to understand life and I didn’t want them to see the world as I saw it. I wanted them to have a happy childhood and experience life as any growing child should. They were sent away to my uncle’s and although they were more than willing to also let me stay, I needed away. I left my mother as she screamed indecent words at me one night and took the subway train that led me here. The letter of acceptance from the university was the only good thing that has ever happened to me. I soon became best friends with my room mate who is the polar opposite of me but somehow, we spoke to the same stars and saw life in the same light. My life has always been rushed, difficult to comprehend and there was no easy way through. Having to hear the body that pulled me through those sleepless nights of putting my scared sisters to sleep and locking their doors so my alcoholic mother couldn’t hurt them with her drunk violence, the same body that has cried itself to sleep after carrying stack after stack of recycle paper up 7 flight of stairs for very little pay and a terrible neck and back ache, the same body that is still living and breathing and pushing through, is not good enough, is less, is devastating. It makes me want to cry.

I didn’t ask for such a difficult life. Additionally, my face is the only remainder of who my mom used to be; I am the spitting image of her. The her that was over flowing with positivity and had a heart of gold. The her that lovingly brought my sisters and I into this world and took us cycling and cooked our favourite pasta for our birthdays. To think this face, this remainder of what she looked like, who she was, is less makes my heart crinkle around the edges and burn in the deepest pits of its centre.

“All good?”

I look up to see Jungkook looking at me worriedly.

“Oh yes! I just.... should stop eating else I’ll throw up" I laughed awkwardly.

Jungkook continued to munch on his pizza as he stared at me. He was trying to read the worry in my eyes, the sad drop of the corners of my lips. I couldn’t hide my emotions on my face even if the world depended on it, so I wouldn’t be surprised if any minute now Jungkook presses me for answers and stories. Stories I’d rather keep hidden like I have all this time.

“Okay" Jungkook hums as he takes another slice of pizza. I look at him, grateful he dropped the subject. I watched on as he ate. He didn’t once lift his eyes to mine. He busied himself finishing up his own pizza and the remainder of mine. I wasn’t shocked he ate so much given the fact that he was full of muscle and stamina.

I looked out the window at the busy street. People walked by, carrying the weight of their lives on their shoulders. The lights from cars and street lights looked like stars on Earth from where I was seated. I felt a sudden sense of closure knowing I could disappear into the night, walk mindlessly around these people and no one would know who I am. I’d have no one to explain or compare myself to. Nobody would know what’s going on inside my head. Frankly, nobody would care enough to know. And it felt nice. To not be alive and surviving. I wanted to be light, float over the Earth and find my purpose at my own pace without trying to catch up with the rest of the world only to fall short of breath and lost.

“I don’t know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours, but I’ll listen if you share” Jungkook wipes the corner of his mouth with a tissue. He has cleaned the trays of pizza without leaving behind even a trace of any food being there. I smiled kindly at his words.

“Thank you Jungkook. But I’m not thinking about anything that needs concerning attention”

My smile doesn’t reach my eyes and I know he noticed it. He pays the bill entirely despite me fussing about wanting to split the bill. We make our way back to my house, the breeze a little colder and stronger than yesterday, reminding us of the oncoming winter.

I pace the living room painfully slow, waiting.

Waiting for her to come back home.

Daffodil.

I have been practising what I wanted to say as I give her the present over and over again in my head. I had wrapped it neatly in a brown paper bag and tied with an orange ribbon I found on her study table. The wrapping was not at all attractive, but it was neat and I hoped she would see the value of the gift that’s wrapped rather than the wrapping itself.

I look at the time. 09.19pm.

She was supposed to be back a long time ago. I heard her making arrangements yesterday to leave early from work today. I had cleaned the entire house; sweeping the wooden floor boards, removing cobwebs and brushing off the dust that had collected on top of the cupboards and TV.

I did not have a phone on me and even if I did, its not like I had her number anyway. I sighed loudly and slumped on the cold floor. My eyes kept fluttering, threatening to close for hours. My shoulders felt heavy and I couldn’t pull myself up off the floor. I rested my head on the floor and allowed my eyes to close. The coldness from the floor piercing my right cheek was the last thing I was aware of before I drifted off to a sleep full of nightmares.

I saw it again.

The playground.

The swing.

The boy.

I was playing in the park around the corner from school. I had sand in my old, torn shoes and my school tie was hanging loosely around my neck. My hair was a mess and sweat dripped off the ends of my bangs. I was having too much fun running around to stop. I sat at one of the swings and turned to face the boy seated in the other.

“Hey!” I waved brightly.

He did not respond, his head bent low and slowly swinging. He had dark brown hair and a piercing in his left ear. I could not see his face because it was surprisingly too dark on the side of the swing he was on. It was almost as if a dark cloud was looming over him, night fallen on the side of the Earth he was on.

I turned away and focused on swinging as high up as I can. However, my merry only lasted for a short while because I had swung a little too high and as I swung back, I was thrown off the seat and face first onto the dirty sand. I got up spitting sand out of my mouth. Any average person would have shrieked in disgust and run straight home for a good shower at what just happened. But I just laughed, almost choking on my spit as I attempted to spit sand out of my mouth.

“Pathetic”

The boy suddenly spoke. His voice was soft, melodic and had a boyish charm to it.

He’d make a great singer if he could sing, I thought to myself.

I turned to look at him, mirth sparkling in my eyes.

“Ha! So you can speak! I thought-” I began but had to stop at the sight before me.

My eyes grew wide in terror as the boy lifted his head to reveal a face with no features except for a gaping hole where his mouth should be. A dark liquid oozed out of his ears, supposed-mouth and where his eyes should’ve been.

My breath caught in my throat as I tried to scream again and again, but no sounds came out.

Tag list: @tae-n-u

#bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #bts fan fic #bts fan fiction #kim taehyung #kim taheyung x reader #BTS v #bts v x reader #bts taehyung #bts tae x reader #park jimin #BTS jimin #BTS jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #taehyung x y/n #tae x y/n #bts v x y/n #Angels

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sparrowwritings · 3 years

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Final Fantasy 14 Writing Challenge Day Six: Champagne taste, Beer budget

Day Five -- Masterpost -- Day Seven

“Lara.”

“I know, I know. I was stupid and just said the first thing that came to mind.”

“Lara.”

“But like, boy did that shut him up when I asked. Did you see his face?? Priceless.”

“Lara.”

“I shouldn’t be this satisfied about it but oh my gods I’m so pumped I could fight another Lightwarden.”

“Lara, you invited Emet-Selch--you know, the Ascian that’s been bugging us on the First this whole time--to have dinner with us. If we don’t get murdered by him, we’re definitely going to be murdered by Alisaie. After everyone else lectures us to death. The Exarch might even cry. I know he’s all mysterious and such but I get the feeling he definitely would if he found out we invited an enemy to dinner.”

“It should be...well not fine but it should be okay. He keeps saying he won’t work against us and this will prove if he’s even a little bit trustworthy. We just...don’t have to tell anyone about it.”

“HOW? Everyone in the Crystarium knows everyone else and they’ll definitely say something to our friends when they see the Warriors of Darkness having dinner with a tall guy with black clothes, white-and-brown hair and an extra eye on his forehead. It won’t even take a day.”

“And that’s why we have dinner with him in our room. He can teleport anywhere, we can have a very awkward meal, no one finds out and we’re solid.”

“...Our room.”

“Yes.”

“Where the shades of Ardbert and Gwyneth hang out waiting for us when they’re not wandering because no one can see them except us and they can’t even see each other.”

“......look, you’re as aware of our record for good plans as I am. This isn’t even the worst one I’ve ever come up with.”

“That’s...sadly true.”

“...It’s okay you can say it’s a bad idea and I can try to come up with a way to say that we changed our mind without insulting him--”

“No, don’t.”

“Huh?”

“You’re right. For sure Emet-Selch’s not telling us everything, but...it’d be nice to know if he means it when he says he wants us to understand his point of view.”

“...Yeah. Even if it didn’t work out so well when we tried that with Emperor Varis.”

“Mmhm. Although, that reminds me...what are we even going to feed him? He used to be an Emperor, he’s probably used to super expensive foods. We’re not exactly flush with gil.”

“I’ll...think of something. Improvisation is key to being a great Culinarian, as Chef Lyngsath says.”

-----

“This is a horrible mistake.” Ardbert leaned against the wooden countertop of the small kitchen of the room that Lara and Roger shared. He really didn’t need to, being intangible to all but Lara herself, but it was one of the few things that made him feel like more than just a shade. Besides which, he needed to showcase just how upset he was.

Lara rolled her eyes as she uncovered a pot and checked on the food inside. “It’s not going to be any less of a mistake the twelfth time you mention it. We just have to see it through.”

“And if Emet-Selch decides, as Ascians are wont to do, to forget about any promises he’s made and just kill you both while you’re at your most vulnerable?”

“Well then we’ll see that through, too.” She set the lid back down, apparently satisfied with how it looked. “For now, though, I’m just going to focus on getting through dinner without any incidents. How’s the table looking, Roger?”

“It’s fine.” Roger muttered as he poked a finger into one of his ears. “Gwyn’s, uh, letting me know her opinion on our guest but everything’s set.”

Not for the first time, Ardbert felt a flare of emotion burst in his chest. A mixture of fierce pride and overwhelming sadness. For all that he couldn’t touch anything in this state, it seemed like any sort of feelings within himself was all the more intense. Particularly when they involved his sister, Gwyneth. The one other shade that was similarly denied the ability to move onward when his friends had gone where the Oracle of Light had led them.

The one other shade he couldn’t see much less detect, even while they stood in the same room.

Truly fate was set to reject anything close to happiness for him.

Whether it was in response to his expression or something else, Lara snapped her fingers in front of Ardbert’s face a couple of times to get his attention. “Look, just pay attention to what Emet-Selch does and let me know if you notice anything--well, odd’s not the right word because he’s all odd, but anything that might look like he’s about to kill us.” She then directed her voice in the general direction of the dinner table. “Same goes for you and Roger, Gwyneth! If he looks like he’s about to try something, be sure to scream or something.”

“She’s sulking on the desk chair on the platform, actually, but Gwyn says she heard you the first time.” A snort left Ardbert’s nose before he could stop himself.

His good humor died with the rapping at the chamber door.

Roger and Lara gave each other a look before he went to answer it. Against the advice of Ardbert (and from context clues, Gywneth too), both of the Warriors of Darkness were dressed in more casual clothing. As if they had set a time to sup with one of their Scion friends and not a being that was directly responsible for the chaos and misery plaguing all fourteen parallel worlds. He stomped over to a better vantage point as the door opened and Emet-Selch entered.

The man’s pale yellow eyes scanned the room, taking in every detail even as they slid over where the shades were located. They lingered briefly on the platform where the two beds were positioned at opposite corners with the desk set up between them before settling on Roger. A slimy smirk tugged at his lips that made Ardbert want to smack him. “I see you’ve made do with what the Crystarium could afford to spare.” Every word that dripped out of his mouth had the tang of sarcasm. “There’s nothing quite like what you can find on the Source.”

Instead of taking the argument bait, Roger gave a one-shoulder shrug as he closed the door. “We take what we can get. It’s how adventurers work.” He walked back and offered Emet-Selch one of the actual chairs that had been provided to the Warriors of Darkness before making his way to a stool. The man sat and immediately slouched, crossing one leg over the other while folding his arms.

“So what you’re saying is that your invitation to dinner was more akin to asking if I’d enjoy whatever vaguely edible scraps you could whip together. Perhaps I should leave before you attempt to poison this body of mine.”

“Yes, please.” Ardbert called out. “And don’t let the door hit your arse on the way out.” Lara bit her lip and hard to keep herself from inappropriately laughing as she carefully plated the meal. Roger suddenly coughed, indicating that Gwyn had a similar comment.

“The invitation was a genuine thing, Emet-Selch.” She said lightly while balancing three dishes in her hands. “You said you wanted us to see your perspective, right? Well,” Lara set a plate in front of the man first. “In my experience, one of the better ways to discuss topics is over food.” She made her way over to the other side of the table and set the far more vegetable-laden plate in front of Roger before sitting down with her own meal.

“So.” She smiled, but Ardbert could tell it was the kind that merchants used with customers. “We’ll start with pleasantries and see where it goes from there, just like any other person at dinner. And no, nothing is poisoned.”

A tense quiet fell over the table. Instinct more than necessity had Ardbert holding his breath. Eventually, Emet-Selch sat forward in his chair and took a couple of the utensils set out for him. With the ease and grace of one who had broken bread among nobles for decades, he carefully cut a small bite’s worth of the meal and ate it. After chewing for a moment and swallowing, he declared, “Not poisoned indeed. It seems you do have some skill in something other than murder.”

Lara let out the breath that she’d been holding in something like a relieved sigh and her smile was somewhat more genuine this time. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

The rest of the dinner was just as awkward as expected. Emet-Selch spent far more time making verbal jabs at the lifestyle of the Warriors of Darkness and the quality of their friends than he did giving any useful information. He gestured quite a bit while he spoke, but nothing seemed to indicate that he planned to kill them with dark magics or summon sin eaters directly into the room to do it for him. Not that Ardbert ever stopped being alert to any potential danger.

When the meal was finished and he’d made to leave, Roger had the courage to ask why that was. He’d given a smirk and responded, “It’s far too much effort to explain a concept multiple times, particularly to those who wouldn’t understand it the first time.” He turned and gave a dramatic wave above his head as a violet portal opened ahead of him. “And for as novel as this dinner was, I’m afraid I must decline any future invitations. Until next we meet.”

Minutes later, the Crystal Exarch paid a visit and Ardbert had a much grander time watching the two stumble over themselves explaining what had happened as the older man chided them. They’d completely forgotten that he could see what Roger and Lara were up to through his mirror in the Crystal Tower.

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bookworm555 · 4 years

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*Reuploaded FOR THE THIRD TIME because I realized that this never showed up in any of this fandom’s tags the first two times I posted it :/ Now I am trying this as a text post with images instead of a typical art post because nothing is freaking working and I am so frustrated.

Because read-mores apparently make my post glitchy, I apologize in advance for the length of this post, and hopefully, it doesn’t clog your dashes/the tags too badly.*

Another CatCF/WWatCF sketchdump~

The top drawing is the characters from the 1971 adaptation ten years later (which was an excuse to draw 80′s fashion, haha).

Ten years later doodles (from left to right) Top row: Violet and Veruca Second row: Mike, Charlie, and Augustus

(I think Violet turned out to be the best of these doodles!)

Some headcanons for the ten years later drawings (this would have been the section under the read-more, if it worked :/ ):

I always headcanoned the characters in the ‘71 version to be thirteen, minus Mike, who I saw as eleven. So basically everyone in the drawing is twenty-three except for Mike, who is twenty-one.

Violet: For years after the nightmare that was the factory tour, Violet struggled with major body image issues, especially about her blue skin. (And is homeschooled because of this.) However, eventually, her mindset basically became ‘Wonka thought this was a punishment? Fuck that; I’m going to embrace it’, so she became more confident.

Once this confidence hits during her late teens, she uses her unusual appearance to her advantage (especially when it comes to attracting visitors/potential buyers to her dad’s car dealership).

She doesn’t go to college; instead, she works at her dad’s place, and basically learns how to be a mechanic.

She hasn’t chewed gum since the factory tour.

When Charlie contacts her and the others, she is hesitant to respond back, but ultimately does (to sass him, at the very least). During the group’s future meetups, she’s basically the glue that keeps them together.

Veruca: Unlike Violet, Veruca carries a lot of guilt about what happened during the factory tour, since her father was punished along with her. He fell wrong, and as a result, was paralyzed from the waist down, and is now in a wheelchair. Veruca was lucky; aside from a broken ankle, she did not suffer any worse injuries.

Because of this, Veruca becomes mute (her mouthing off and constantly asking for things is what led to her–pun not intended–downfall, so she decides that it would be for the best if she stops talking altogether.)

Despite the Salts being wealthy, Wonka paid all of their medical bills. Even though it would have made sense for them to take him to trial, they decided not to (Henry did not want anyone to see him in his new state, and Veruca’s anxiety spiked even thinking about the factory).

When Charlie contacts the four ‘rejects’ ten years after the tour, Violet starts to bring Veruca out of her shell. Though it is ultimately Augustus who helps her feel comfortable speaking again, due to his soft-spoken personality.)

Mike: Like the others, Mike was very traumatized by what happened to him during the tour. (Especially since he was younger than the rest of them.)

While Violet embraced her altered state, and Veruca withdrew from the world, Mike became bitter. Very bitter. Because, while sure, Wonka and co. were able to get him back to about normal size [after stretching him waaaay too tall and thin the first time; his mother fainted, then had plenty of choice words for everyone involved when she came to], the process was incredibly painful, and involved basically rubber-fying his bones and muscles temporarily (yeah, he still had no idea why Wonka would even create a candy that did that).

Because of that, he has scars all over his body–the most on his arms, legs, and torso–so he always wears long-sleeved shirts or jackets, and long pants.

He is pissed that his life was ruined at age eleven; sure, he was obnoxious, but he was a KID. Now he’s stuck with chronic pain, not to mention the occasional breakdown because he has no idea if he’s actually HIM, or just a copy that was beamed through Wonka’s television room that managed to keep his soul. (Yeah, he doesn’t like to dwell on that; he prefers to think that that would be impossible.) [A/N: That part comes from the fact that Wonka stated that the chocolate that appeared in the TV screen was a copy of the much larger chocolate bar that was beamed through the air, and not the original bar itself]

When Charlie contacts him, he almost sends a nasty letter back, but something in him pauses, and he ends up sending a civilized response. It wasn’t Charlie’s fault all this happened to him; Charlie was the nice one, and, though he would never admit it to anyone, on the tour, he thought Charlie was cool. Goody-two-shoes, but in the ‘Lovable TV Protagonist’ sort of way.

As the five of them start meeting/corresponding through letters, he lets Charlie past all the walls he put up, and is definitely the closest to him in the group.

Charlie: Happily becomes Wonka’s protege after the tour. He is ecstatic that he not only gets to live and learn to work in this magical place, but he and his family are finally out of poverty!

He goes to school during the day, then learns the tricks of the candy trade in the afternoons and evenings.

However, about ten years after winning the tour, Wonka just…vanishes. And that’s when Charlie finds the videos showcasing what happened to the other four Golden Ticket winners after their mishaps.

Charlie is appalled; looking back, they were all so young. Of course, they were bratty; that’s how kids ARE. (Sure, some of them were worse than others, but they didn’t deserve their fates! Essentially, the four ‘losers’, plus Mr. Salt, were toyed with and tortured, and their parents could not help them.) Mike’s was especially horrible, to him; it was the only tape he couldn’t finish.

This makes Charlie feel a little guilty; he got off easy, even though he also disobeyed the rules.

He is also torn; on the one hand, Wonka was a great mentor, and he was fond of the man–he made a good father-figure, for him. But on the other hand, this was a man who thought the way to get rid of a kid’s bad habits was to torture them.

Before he could think otherwise, Charlie writes letters to the other Golden Ticket winners. He doesn’t expect anything nice back, but is surprised to find that they are all willing to talk to him.

He is relieved; he wants to right the wrongs done to them.

Augustus: The poor guy falls into a deep depression after the tour. Sure, he was thinner, but he had no problem with how he looked before. Not to mention, even the smell of chocolate and other sugary sweets makes him very nauseous. Oh, and there’s the not-so-small fear of drowning that he picked up, as well as severe claustrophobia.

He felt like a part of him was lost, since he could no longer enjoy his favorite foods. Or food in general. He ate to not starve, but that was it.

He was already quiet, but after the tour, he withdrew into himself even more, preferring to spend time with the neighborhood cats rather than people. (Yes, he is definitely a cat person.)

But he still has his kind heart, so when Charlie Bucket sends him a letter, he responds right away (and is the first one to do so).

When they start writing more letters to each other, and eventually meeting, he helps the others through their trauma, while ignoring his own. He thinks he’ll always be stuck this way.

Veruca disagrees.

And in terms of schooling, only Augustus went to college. As for high school, Violet and Mike were homeschooled, Veruca went to an exclusive, posh academy, Charlie stuck with public school, and Augustus went to a private school.

Now, if anyone was interested, these are the outfits that inspired the ones I drew (though, obviously, I took artistic liberties with some of them). I wanted to give them each a different style: Violet’s is the outlandish fashion the 80s are famous for, Veruca’s is demure and preppy, Mike’s is pretty unassuming, but with a slight edge, Charlie’s is comfortable/casual, and Augustus’s is comfortable/slightly formal.

Left to right: Violet, Veruca, Mike, Charlie, Augustus

(And I imagine the back of Mike’s jacket looking like this, aka with a vent, which is why the back of the jacket isn’t visible in the gap of his legs):

WOW, that got so long (oops…), but those were just my ideas for how these characters would interact and act ten years later. Hopefully someone enjoys this, XD

#bookworm555 #charlie and the chocolate factory #willy wonka and the chocolate factory #mike teavee #charlie bucket #augustus gloop #veruca salt #augustus x veruca #charlie/mike if you squint #at the very least they become veeeeery close friends in this #violet ends up with hmmm...winkelmann?? idk?#-kidding-#unless XDD #my art #please please please show up in the tags

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capo-cedes · 3 years

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Fishy Business [2]

INVOLVED: Mercedes D’onofrio, Nicholas D’onofrio, & Al Mazomonie TIME FRAME: LOCATION: -; New York City, New York NOTES: Nicholas returns with Mercedes like he promised Al.

Mercedes sat in the living room, head tilted as she watched Freddie. Her mouth was stuffed with food, and she chewed hungrily as she measured the guy up. Something was off with him, the lack of eye contact showed her that. She shrugged and licked her lips stuffing more food into her mouth. A Cuban sandwich happened to be her craving of choice during her final stages of pregnancy and luckily for her there was an amazing spot that Freddie would not hesitate to retrieve it from. Shifting on the couch she adjusted the silk robe over her large bump and moved her eyes back to the massive tv. She wasn’t a woman for clothes before but pregnancy only added to her laziness.

Nicholas entered the mansion with the step and cadence of a man on a mission. He pushed the front closed, the slam rattling even the sturdiness of the home to its frame. The staff seem to have a sick sense of his mood and it’s target. They all were tight lipped as he walked toward the stairs, yet the quick glances and eye darts towards the living room made him switch course, moving through the house to the large room overlooking the waterfront. He made a beeline for the couch, reaching down he picked up the remote and shut the television off. His eyes slid absently over his wife’s bodyguard, then moved back to Red. “Babe, I need you to go get dressed. We have to make a run.” He tried to keep the command out of his voice, despite leaving little room for disobedience. Turning he looked to Freddie. “Get the cars ready. We leave in 15 minutes.”

Mercedes licked her full lips and she ate the last piece of her sandwich. When the tv turned off abruptly she looked up to see her husband and she furrowed her brows at his words. “Go where?” She questioned him taking him in and his demeanor. “What’s wrong?” She asked next. As Freddie moved without a second thought she looked at him in shock, observing his fast pace. Since when did he take direct orders from her husband without at least questioning it with her sublimely. She sat her plate aside watching one of the maids grab it and she used the couch's arm rest to slide to the edge of it and then pull herself up.

Nicholas turned back to face Mercedes, leaning down he sat the remote control on the coffee table. “We have to go talk to the Don.” He said, standing up straight. “I’ll send for some clothes if you would like. We can’t be late Red.”

“Why?” Mercedes asked her hand instinctively moving to her large rounded stomach. “What happened?” she asked him with wide eyes. They were on Al’s shit list right now and she knew that so anything involving him must be deadly serious. “Answer me” she growled, she’d blame her hormones for this one “what’s the issue?” she asked him as she slowly but surely moved towards some stairs so that she could change into actual clothes.

Nicholas hissed, shaking his head. “What do you mean why? You know why.” He said aggravation clearly in his voice. “The Don wants to see us. Period. Does there really need to be another reason. He spared me this long Mercedes do you really think that’s going to continue?” Nicholas eyed her as she bared her teeth, “You seem nervous? Did you have something you wanted to tell me?” He asked in a deadpan tone,

Mercedes tilted her head at Samuel and she looked down at his feet before she looked back up at his face. The statement he made was cryptic and she looked to see Freddie who returned to them both to announce that the car was ready. Mercedes looked at Nicholas again before she said “I have to change” excusing herself in the process and ignoring his last comment. When it hit her she turned back around and looked at Freddie, hand gripping her robe in her hand “you told him” she breathed angrily. Her features creased so much so she resembled a literal monster. “Freddie” she growled so loudly her voice echoed in the space. She looked at Nicholas, her chest rising and falling. “Nicky” she said trying to reason with him knowing it was too late as she dropped the robe down to the ground.

“Red, we don’t have time for this.” NIcholas said, as stubborn curiosity, ate away at the self imposed deadline he had given to Al. He nodded, his thanks to Freddie once he returned, still looking down at Mercedes, who had yet to move. His scowl deepened even after she’d agreed to dress, it wasn’t lost on him that she’d left his last question unanswered. Yeah, truth was a rare commodity in their line of business, but what was the purpose for keeping something this serious a secret. The accusations she threw at Freddie was a knife to his head. He stepped in front of the man almost protectively. “Nicky what?” he growled. “Why the fuck didn’t you say anything?” He barked, advancing on Mercedes. “A fucking 500K bounty?” He towered over her, “what is going on?”

Even as her husband obscured her line of vision, her dark eyes burned holes into him and right into Freddie. Nicholas advanced her, barking his disdain with every word that left him and it made her swallow a huge lump in her throat. She’d never get used to his iron fist no matter how many months turned into years for them. She always wanted him to be soft and gentle with her, more so now than ever, even if she didn’t always give him the same courtesy. “I had it under control” she lied to him, her eyes moving to his. “I can handle this. I don’t need you people getting into an uproar or trying to defend me. Why would you tell Al? I am Mercedes Francis” she said before she sighed “D’onofrio” she corrected. “No one can touch me, I just need to drop this precious cargo” she reasoned, her hands moving to her stomach. “And then I can march up and down the streets until someone dares…”

“Mercedes!” Nicholas yelled, wanting her stream of nonsense to end. “It was an afterthought, a shot in the dark. I need to smooth things over with him. And this just came up. What were you even thinking? Someone is threatening our family.” He shook with a tight held rage. “You and our son are at risk and you didn’t even trust me enough to come to me.” Nicholas drew back and exhaled, hard. “No, you’re right Francis.” He said in a dead tone. “Don’t change it up now. All that pride, you're safe because your daddy will protect you. Now go get dressed. The boss wants to see us ASAP”.

Mercedes' neck rolled back as he raised his voice at her. As he went on to express how he felt about the entire situation she was in she swallowed hard again. He was right, even if she didn’t admit it. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him, it was the fact that she truly didn’t want to explain to them what she’d done to cause this. As he commanded her to go get dressed for Al, she picked her long robe back up. A small pout sporting her face and she moved to leave Nicholas and Freddie alone. Despite wanting to fight back like she was known to do she opted for waddling away in silence.

Nicholas’ eyes followed Mercedes as she moved out of sight. Her request for a new different life ringing hollow in his ears. Actions. Do what you might, they always speak louder than words. And his wife’s actions were those of a Capo. She felt she was above it all. Nothing could touch her. She was Al’s protege. And he was her bitch. “Freddie… I appreciate your coming to me. She might not want to admit it, but you’ve most likely saved her life.” Nicholas turned to meet the man’s face, “It’s true. Even if she won’t show it.”

Freddie watched Red leave and he looked at Nicholas as he spoke to him directly now. The man looked down and then he looked up nodding his head at the man’s words. He betrayed the one person he was supposed to give all of his loyalty to. He might have saved her life, but his actions could’ve ended his. Perhaps convincing her later that it was out of concern for the child would sway her not to proceed with his inevitable demise.

XXX

Mercedes looked up at the large estate as they approached, cars moving in a single file between the massive gates and guards. Her heart thumped against her chest rapidly, both of her hands splayed against her stomach in the sink tight dress. She exhaled slowly, there was a tremble there rather Nicholas or anyone else noticed. As the car came to a stop she shuddered and leaned down picking up her massive Birkin bag.

Nicholas cracked his knuckles, eyes glued to the outside world as it slid by. His body was tense even in the confines of the armored cars. To many unknowns, to many variables. The utter chaos of the informationless vacuum, too much for him to process. As they came to a stop in front of Al’s estate he looked over at Mercedes, the light of the sunset setting about her. She would be beautiful if he wasn’t so damn upset with her. Who was he kidding. He reached over brushing her hair away from her face and ran his fingers down the nape of her neck. “Be honest with him so we can keep you both safe.” He said, seconds before the car door opened.

Mercedes blinked hard at Nicholas' words and she pulled away from him, offering Freddie her hand despite her disdain. Once she was on her feet, she stood before her father’s massive lawn. Like a child, she coward into a small lamb knowing that the man to be nothing less than a lion. She walked towards the door looking to the servants as they opened the front doors to her. She stepped inside and smiled thoughtfully to herself, gipping onto her purse for dear life as she waddled into the spot she knew of him to be in. “Don” she spoke to him in a more respectful manner.

Al watched as Mercedes was led to him, they were late by a literal minute so his face showed his rage. Never mind that, just seeing her in her current state made his blood boil. She was so heavily pregnant, that if she sneezed he was sure she could give birth that very second. However, she chose to live her life on the edge of an abyss and in the wake of that was tons of people that would still have to pay even if she fell in the dark pits. She acknowledged him in a manner that caused him to squint at her. “Sit” he commanded, she was a child of his but he in this moment didn’t see her as such. “Hand your purse over” he told her knowingly. She’d never kill him or try, he knew that but Al liked to play games every now and again.

Nicholas let his hand slip and fall to the seat as Red brushed him. The cold shoulder didn’t really bother him currently, it was to be expected. He stepped from the other door, buttoning his jacket, as he moved. Surveying everything and one sharp eye that gave off the appearance of calm, indifference when he felt anything but. He took the steps behind his wife, noting the well hidden tension in her back. There was nothing for it, she’d made a bed he couldn’t get her out of. Once in the house, he stopped and let her proceed taking up a potion, behind her chair, on her left. And looked on watching as Al took command of the situation.

Mercedes sat down lowering herself in a chair, the man’s next words made her brows rise. It was so insulting to say the least, in her opinion. However, she handed her bag over to one of his soldiers before she looked back at him.

“What did you do?” Al asked simply to her with a head tilt. He picked his glass up and took a sip before he sat it back down, growling to himself. “I just can’t understand why you can’t stay out of trouble?” he said, his voice booming. He ran his hands against his jet black hair as he walked around the room.

Mercedes watched Al and she licked her lips gently “I don’t know what I did” she told a bit of a lie it was, leaving her lips. She lowered her head as he began to pace the room and shrunk even more under his scrutiny. “Don, I try very hard to do whatever is necessary for the family’s sake. It is never my intentions to cause conflict, harm, or chaos” she spoke.

Nicholas’ eyes stayed focused and Al. He didn’t know who was the more unpredictable at this moment, however disconnecting his wife from her bag, swung the favor squarely over to Al. There was no subtly when he began his questions. Not that any was to be expected. There would be no cat and mouse like the Don had briefly performed with him early. His eyes moved to meet his wife’s face as she said she didn’t know what she’d done. He grimaced, how much could a person do to forget what heinous action would cause someone to want to retaliate against them? He pondered, seriously. He thought he knew what Red was capable of. Now it seemed as if he didn’t know the half.

“Bullshit” Al retorted and as she went along to kiss his ass he shook his head, growling again. “Who wants you dead and why Mercedes? What did you do and don’t tell me you don’t know. Each evil ass thing you’ve ever done in your life is etched into the stone wall that is your head” he breathed as he moved for her. “Speak!” he fussed harshly as he snatched her face up in his hand towering over her.

Mercedes looked up at her father again as he spoke, calling her bluff. He moved over to her as he continued to reign down his killer tongue. When he grabbed her face her bottom lip quivered only slightly “Russian Mafia” she cried to him, knowingly. “Stephen wasn’t who I thought he was. He was dangling gems in both our faces, me killing him cost a lot of people a lot of money” she spoke up her hands moving for the seats arm rest. “I am sorry, he would have stopped at nothing to harm Nicholas daddy” she said tears rolling down her face.

Al’s voice rolled like thunder. His words lighting strikes cutting a path through lies with ease. Nicholas stood firm, his right hand literally holding the left in place as Al’s finger dug into Mercedes' face. Wrong as she was for withholding this information, it took a force of pure will for him not to intervene. He hissed long and deep when she said the Russian Mafia. He didn’t fear them but they were a multi headed hydra that would prove hard to kill. “What?” tumbled from his mouth, taken by his inclusion. “Wait? Did you know he had ties to the Russian Mafia? Damnit. How long have you known about this bounty?” He asked, stepping into her field of vision.

Al gazed upon Mercedes as she finally revealed how much deep shit they were all in thanks to her. He shook his head angrily and lashed out the only way he knew how, wrapping his hand around her throat came to him second nature. He squeezed as he said “have you lost your damn mind?” loudly. “Aim” he commanded the men pointing at Nicholas knowingly as he tugged the woman forward by her neck. “When will you learn?” he shouted, voice echoing through the house.

Mercedes watched Al as his face grew increasingly monstrous, the older man wrapped his hand around her throat which was nothing she was unfamiliar with. However, she would never forwardly accept his need to abuse the people around him out of anger. As he gripped grew and he tugged her forehead her hands moved to his, her nails digging into his digits as she tried to inhale. “D-daddy” she said in a strangled cry as he slid her from her seat during their tussle.

In what seemed like a flash, Al’s hand slipped from Red’s face to her throat. Death would rule for any other man, woman or even child but this wasn’t anybody it was Boss Mazomonie, the click of guns didn’t really register, “Please.” Nicholas said, hand raised in surrender. “The baby Al please. Please let her go. Please.” He begged. Repeatedly.

“I am tired of cleaning up your messes” Al said to Mercedes even as she tried with all her might to release herself from him. Nicholas' words fell on deaf ears as he gazed upon her face, he could watch the life slip from her eyes and he wouldn’t lose a wake of sleep. Not in this case. However, the baby. Despite her face changing colors he squeezed a little harder before he released her, letting the marble ground be her security blanket. He ran his hands down his suit jacket and fixed his tie a bit before he looked at Nicholas.

Mercedes' eyes rolled to the back of her head as she tried to guide her fingers between her neck and his hand. That was useless however, Al was meaning to kill her today that was obvious. Even with a burning chest she figured she owed their child a fight, of some sorts. However Al did let her go and she hit the ground with a thumb, exhaling loudly as she groaned out. A loud sob left her as she rested on her side, perched up on one elbow she said “I am sorry” loud enough for the man to hear, loud sobs leaving her.

Nicholas waited, mumbled pleas leaving his mouth. Finally Al let Mercedes go. Hands still raised he went down to his knee, hand resting gently on her back. He pleas of please, gone drowned out by the sobs of sorry coming from Red. Bile rose in his chest, he was so angry he felt physically sick.

Al sighed heavily he hated seeing her there on the ground, however he ruled everything even his household with an iron fist. “Lower your weapons” he told the men, he ran his hand down his mouth and moved for his glass. “I think it best that you two go home and stay put until I can fix this and give you the go ahead you can move. Have I made myself clear?” he asked them both.

Despite knowing how the man operated on a daily basis, it truly broke Mercedes heart to know that he had chosen to be so violent with her. She guessed she deserved it, it wasn’t like she ever showed people mercy. She sniffled hard, cursing her hormones, she was such a big softy now. She heard his words and nodded her head at him “yes” she breathed as she pulled herself upright on the ground and wiped her soaked face with her hand, tears still falling.

Nicholas nodded, “Thank Boss.” He said, quietly moving to stand steadying Mercedes as they both rose. The same green eyes roamed the room. For the second time today, guns had been aimed at him. Only this time, it was worse. Helplessness was something he'd all but forgotten. Being unable to protect what was his, a distant memory. Or at least it had been. Counting off the face, he didn’t take his hands off Mercedes back, his step purposeful, his click of heels on the marble drowning out the sound of his wife’s sniffles.

Freddie grabbed Mercedes purse from one of Al’s men, he stood there and he watched on in horror. He assumed killing the man would not have been worth whatever came next but that didn’t mean he didn’t picture it. He glared at Al for a moment before he walked off towards the exit. Mercedes continued to dry her tears even as Nicholas helped her out of the man’s home, she continued to cry silently to herself. In her defense truly, she was protecting the man she was in love with. But she guessed that didn’t take away from the obvious. Once out of the door, she pat her face dry with her hands moving alongside Freddie as well towards the trucks.

The doors to the truck were immediately opened once the trio emerged from the mansion. Nicholas stepped off the curb, waited for Mercedes to be tucked away into the back of the Hummer. He reached for the oversized bag in Freddie’s hand and passed it into Mercedes, closing the as soon as she accepted the offering. He stood back faced the estate and looked at Freddie With his mouth barely moving, “How many times?” He asked, unbuttoning the front of his jacket.

Freddie assisted Mercedes into the truck easily before he stood back waiting for Nicholas to enter. He handed the bag over to the man and tucked his hands before him patiently. Mercedes sat down quietly accepting the purse from Nicholas and resting it on the floor near her feet. She sat with her hands at her side before she gently rubbed her neck with her red painted fingertips. Freddie looked at Nicholas and said “often since they were children, if you pushed him to that point there were consequences always. Unless the Mrs. had the opportunity to intervene” knowingly. It was no secret Al could put a beating on the children when they got in line and it had carried over into their adulthood. The man had a temper no matter the victim of the lashing.

Nicholas eyed the dark tent of the window behind which Red was seated. He felt helpless. A feeling that only made him more dangerous. His jaw clenched and he nodded stiffly to the bodyguard. “Thank you.” He said, swiftly moving, to the driver side, and sliding in beside his wife. He looked out the window as the car began to move. “Are-” He started to ask then let his voice fall away. He reached over and took her hand holding it tightly in his own.

Freddie nodded and climbed in up front after Nicholas. Mercedes didn’t look at the man as he moved in the car with her. When he grabbed her hand, she finally turned her head, dropping her other from her neck. “I’m okay” she lied to him as the cars began to move.

Nicholas squeezed her hand, “No you’re not.” He countered, face still watching the New York landscape change. “You should have told me.” He exhaled, rubbing his hand over his face.

“Ignoring it was working for a time” Mercedes confessed sadly. “I want the baby safe, I don’t really care about me” she let slip.

What she said made no sense. Nicholas turned to face her. He watched her in the almost darkness for a few moments, then moved close to her, placing one arm around her form and his other hand on her stomach. “Okay…” He said, the desire to discuss this further could wait for a moment. So he swallowed her destructive comment, under a deep sigh.

“I mean it Nicholas. I have a bunch of SD cards with videos of me I’ve made for him just in case” she pointed out to the man. She practically eulogized her life to the unborn child over a dozen times in secret. “I just wanted to pretend that everything was okay and stay in this blissful moment for a while longer. I’m sure after I have the baby they’ll find me to do their job. I’ve accepted that. I just need him safe” she breathed. “I still have work to do, his nursery isn’t done and I have to get him here safely” she listed off. “If they want me bad enough they’ll come get me and there’s nothing anyone can do, you know how this goes, promise me he comes first for you too” she breathed out softly, her eyes looking straight ahead the entire time.

Nicholas tried to console his wife, but she opened her mouth. Handing out details better left unspoken. .He slithered away from her and corded into himself, arms folded over his chest. He looked like a king cobra ready to strike. Wave after wave of anger, hatred and hurt a mass rolled into a mase of emotions, he didn’t have words to utter. Most of the imes in this state of mind, he’d end up with it’s target at his feet. Al’s daughter… “You’ve planted yourself in my life. And for what? To dig a damn hole and crawl into it as soon as possible. I could have just stayed with Sara for this shit.” He growled. Turning away from her bodily, the tastiest of groveling still bitter on his tongue. “Don’t worry. My son does mean more to me than anything. Apparently he’s all I have.” He said scornfully.

At Nicholas' words Mercedes turned her head and looked at him, his words were both shocking and appalling however to show that would be what was expected, right? She licked her red painted lips and her fingertips brushed against her neck again. The men in her life, all three of then, were starting to really really piss her off. She looked away as the man concluded his very disgusting response and she nodded her head at him. “Right” she said simply in response to him as she shifted in her seat, eyes moving to the back of Freddie’s head.

Pure angry heat and icy cold met in the space between Nicholas and Red. The two fronts wiped into a thunderstorm of raw emotional turmoil. He snorted harshly at her dry tone. “Right?” He barked back, whipping his head around to look at her again. “That pissed you off?” He questioned, mock in his tone. “Oh… that shit made you feel a way? You are fucking incredibale you know that. Do you know how many…” He asked, gritting his teeth painfully. He couldn’t even finish his words. “You didn’t say shit? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“You should’ve stayed with Sara?” Mercedes replies back to him eyes blazing red as she gazed at him hard. “Who the fuck says that?” She argued. “You heartless bastard… I’d do anything to stay with you, to be here!” She argued. “I am hoping for the best and preparing for the worst, why can’t you see that?” She growled, both hurt and upset. “Nicholas…” she said shaking her head as she looked away from him. “I didn’t know how to admit my fuck up to you, to Al, to the family… okay” she breathed truthfully.

“Oh that upset you.” Nicholas argued, “I am here. You’re not! Why? With your plans, you shouldn’t be here in a few weeks anyway. You’re running -taking the cowards way out. I hate this defeatist attitude of yours. I pegged you for a lot of things but someone who just shows your soft underbelly isn’t one of them.” He looked at her wildly, “You fucking made videos for my son? Nah, you need to come up with a better answer for the shit you're telling me right now. You act like you haven’t fucked up before. Bull to the shit.”

Mercedes rolled her eyes looking away from Nicholas. “You aren’t understanding me…” she said to him simply. “Just in case, yes, because I need him to know the real woman that I was if something happens” she said, getting teary eyed. “You don’t know how it feels you aren’t his mother!” She stressed. “You haven’t carried him. This isn’t easy for me! I’m scared!” She barked angrily at him. “I didn’t know what else to do” she said as she wiped a stray tear away.

“It didn’t sound like you were saying just in case to me.” Nicholas stressed. “So make this make sense to me!” Her tears didn’t register with him. He was too heated to hear or really see her. “You open your mouth. You talk to me. You tell me what the fuck is going on. That’s what you do. You know what… nevermind.” Nicholas said, sitting back hard against the seat.

Mercedes didn’t even know what he was saying at this point of time. She laid it all on the table bare with her soul for him. What didn’t he get? She inhaled sharply at him and released a loud breath of air, cheeks puffed out as more tears streamed down. She was so damn tired, she thought to herself as she looked out the window bitterly.

#thread.#samcedes rp #thread: fishy business 2

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mauserfrau · 4 years

Text

Rough Excerpt of Sampaguita, Chapter 3 - Bordertober

I had someone who clearly needed a full, tagged scene with OC Catter, so here you be!

Here is the story so far. LSS: Tyreen and Troy have a brief stint as mercs not that long after arriving on Pandora. NOTE THE TAGS. Black comedy. On slow mode for Reasons. Tyreen PoV.

This excerpt contains Tyreen being gross, a lot of food, drinking, snot, Troy torment and, a really crass joke about the Troyreen in this ‘verse.

Also Catter. I stinking love Catter.

...I’m not sorry.

Troy sat under a smokey overhang by the kitchen trailer. Three other people had planted their asses there first, all bumming cigarettes off of each other and sneezing a lot— Biscuits (his biscuitiness accented by lop-mouthed smoking stance), Vincent (tall, dark, handsome and gesturing ashes all over with his silver cigarette holder) and somebody who went by Lotty (more of a human pony bead and spray tan accident).

There was beef jerky. Sort of. Not enough of it to justify more than a page of the Exceptional Exotics’ employment contracts.

Lotty was saying, holding a tin stickered with a happy cowboy up to Troy, “Now, the correct way to eat beef snuff…”

“Also known as machaca, if you’re feeling fancy,” Vincent interrupted.

And Troy nodded.

This pattern repeated: “Is to, well, snuff it. You put a little on your finger.”

“The middle, if you’re feeling fancy.”

Though Troy’s nod came on the tentative side that time. Wrinkles showed in the corners of his eyes as he pondered whether he was fancy or not.

Biscuits leaned in, pressing an encouraging hand to Troy’s back, Troy being too lost in thought to protest more than leaning maybe an inch to the side. “It’s not like doing cocaine at all. And you really have to really suck it in…” A wet snort accompanied this assertion. “… from deeeeep in your chest.”

“The trick’s in where you put the back of your tongue.” Lotty said, their voice tilting towards some sort of conclusion.

This being stolen from them by Vincent, “But oh, the joy of meat sinuses.”

“You would say that.”

“You know you love me.”

“I love you like the parched earth loves spilled beer.”

“So, not at all today. Boo.”

It was at this point Tyreen tossed up the hood of her jacket and stamped across the puddles pissing down through the leaky rain shield. “Troy!”

Troy having meanwhile swept his middle finger through the shredded jerky and right up to his nostrils. Deftly, he pressed his thumb to the left side. The shredded meat disappeared.

Tyreen was too late. Troy doubled over, sneeze-coughing goopy, brown snot. “I can taste that in my ears,” he wheezed.

“Really?” remarked Lotty. “That’s a new one. Are you sure, ‘cause I mean, if you really wanna taste with your ears…” This sentiment unfinished, they lifted both of their hands, beckoning to Vincent and Biscuits. The two men had already grumblingly taken out actual paper cash, what with the ECHONet still being toast.

And Troy, still hacking.

Tyreen shooed off Biscuits and beat Troy about the back until he showed some semblance of sense— namely, horking with purpose until he was king of breathing again.

“If you’re going to squeal to the boss,” Vincent said, sucking on his cigarette, “Get us some more jerky while you’re in there? I don’t want what he sneezed on.”

“On no planet was that a sneeze. You don’t get it, man!” Troy protested.

“That’s a lie. Lotty got him twice,” said Biscuits.

Well, that had to be embarrassing for somebody.

Unlike her brother, Tyreen did not stop to ponder and definitely not anything about snorting beef jerky. “He brought this on himself. That’s plenty for me. C’mon. They opened the beer taps.” One more thwack and she turned her hand around, grabbing Troy by the back of his jacket and hauling.

He pinwheeled half a step in front of her. “I don’t even like beer and neither do you,” he muttered, then discharged more snot into his hand.

Besides, there was a line for said beer. Someone had written on the tarp overhanging the taps: Welcome! No names though, just like nobody announced that food was served in some way that didn’t involve anybody’s noses. At a certain point, Colonel Admusik stepped out of her trailer and made her way to a ktichen trailer window where a plate of something greasy, steaming and flickering oversized bones appeared. She took her pick of seats at one of the rickety picnic tables, tucked a cloth napkin into her collar and sat down. Two of the face-tattooed howitzer operators dived to offer her their beers before fighting their way back into line.

Tyreen wouldn’t have said she’d wanted announced, but the company seemed like a place that announced people. Besides, an excuse to shoot something else would have wrung more laughter out of this crowd, maybe gotten her offered a beer. Not that she could have drunk said beer. Anyway, she got the angle now. There were two ranks here: the colonel and all the other mercs.

So, apparently she and Troy were other mercs now. Tyreen had not been aware that mercs served short ribs for food. She was also unclear on exactly what a ‘short rib’ might entail. Which ribs counted as short? Why not eat the long ribs first since they must contain more delicious meat? Was it absolutely necessary to stop an entire company of mercs in the middle of a downpour to set up a kitchen trailer and make a welcome dinner which was now doomed to get damp while the people who ate it veered into a risk of missing… something. Whatever the hell job this “gentleperson’s operation” was on or headed for or somewhat towards.

Tyreen didn’t know about that either. She also hadn’t bothered to ask. Closer to the urge worked for her. She swung up to the window ahead of Troy. “I heard something about rum rations.”

“Rum and short ribs?” The cookie gave her a squint, but shrugged and ponied up a quarter split with an orange slice and some soda machine ice. “How many?”

“Ah, yeah, pass on that. I don’t do bones.” Casting her hand up briefly, she removed herself from the window before facing anymore of an argument. This dinner was going to suck hard enough without a plate of dead thing under her nose, teasing her with it’s infernal pre-deadedness. Tyreen’s belly had already started to do the gurgling, twisty thing where the part of her that ate gathered there and tried to peek out of her navel. At least she had rum and the urge to distract her until nightfall and the Skågåsbord that would bring. They were still out there. She could sense them flickering about the hills.

Then of course her brother had to go and acquire an overflowing plate of bones, his mashed potatoes relegated to a mug which he carried balanced on his elbow. Tyreen got to the table first, cracking open her rum and slugging it right out of the bottle. Sweet stuff, super dark. Probably wouldn’t make her retch. Her orange slice went on her brother’s potatoes once he’d gotten everything onto the table without incident. He shrugged and ate it anyway, greasy garlic butter and skin and all, smiling at her with the rind pressed over his teeth.

Tyreen glowered at him. She then flicked his nose and slid back to her drink, twisting it over and over as he chewed and more people got food and the shields leaked and the beer line got loud.

Idly, she wondered what anybody would do if she gnawed on a bone. Not that she was going to. Bones made a fine justification for not eating this thing or that other thing, so no way she would. She had that urge of her own though, sometimes after sunset and skimming on her tongue.

And Colonel Admusik only carried picnic tables that seated three to a side. The far one of their table? Still empty when Hypothetical Third Person planted her ass beside Troy. She made a chirp when she did, as though she had a squeaker in her ass.

Tyreen peered around Troy.

And the person waved, fork on her lips. She was smallish, fairish, made-up-ish, wearing a Dahl army coat three sizes too big for her. Peroxide blond hair dragged in her eyes, themselves the color of moss. The Terran kind that never accidentally made teeth like the stuff on Nekrotafeyo.

Troy managed to pull himself away from his plate long enough to tilt his head her way and jostle his occupied shoulder at her. Like— hello, I am eating, other person who had at least ten other places to sit.

This one craned over her own plate and she stared out at him through his magazine cover kind of smile. Finally, she gestured with one gloved hand, flicking her finger close enough to Troy’s left eye that she got a jolt out of him. “So, who does your work?” she asked, words somersaulting over each other.

Troy’s fork froze in mid-air. “This? Oh, uum a few people.” Rather than look her quite in the face, or stop eating, he wiggled his hand and dripped gravy. “They didn’t come out so great the first time.”

“It wasn’t Miss Moju on Rigil 7, was it? ‘cause she’s getting hella sued and if you want in on that, I got the contact stuff for the lawyer on my ECHO.”

“Oh. No, not her. I didn’t even think about her.” Troy ended that on half a snort.

One Tyreen could have joined him for.

Except this person acted like she thought he’d laughed. She tittered back.

And she totally cut Tyreen off, but that was another story. With titters.

“Really? You must be pretty hardcore.” She held her hand out, slower than she’d talked, her hips wiggling in her seat. Tyreen could hear her boots swishing under the table besides. “I didn’t think about her either. I’m Catter. Colonel said you were Troy?”

Troy nodded. He dipped his fork into his potatoes, leaving it there. He had to twist his whole self sideways to offer her his wrong hand, but his joints were hyperflexible garbage and he only had the one hand to offer anybody, so he managed OK, tilted his head up too, not that he exactly made eye-contact. “Yes. It’s nice to meet you. This is…”

Catter’s head, then her shoulders, tipped to the side. She looked like she was trying to shed some part of herself, and in fact she kind of did. The sleeve of her too-big coat nonetheless rode up about an inch on her left wrist.

Glinting geometric swirls poked out.

”Oopsie,” she said, holding her other hand almost to her mouth.

Tyreen made a face. To cover that, she also stuck her rum in said face. Smacking off of her bottle, she added, “You did that on purpose. Just say you’re a fangirl next time, shit. You think we care?” Anyway, she’d heard whispers in the alleys of the ECHONet, about how “pirate AU fanfiction isn’t valid, you weirdos” and also “my sister’s Siren fangirl for cosplays and it’s kind of fucked up”.

Well, Tyreen knew what fangirl and cosplay (an associated term) meant in the same way she knew what short ribs meant. The terms raised more questions than answers. But there was Catter. Quod erat demonstrandum. Also, no way this person was a Siren. She smelled like some kind of plant and not a primeval space magic at all.

“I thought we were having fun,” said Catter, finally breaking the shake with Troy and pressing a finger to her infernally perfect dimple. “Is she always so grumpy?”

Troy’s back tensed as he answered, despite the evenness of his tone. “Are you always so effervescent?”

One of those words earned him a confused blink, and another titter. “ I… What? Hee! I should have known you were different. A guy with Siren ink. That’s just so… I’m sorry. I’ve never actually seen one! Or a Siren. But I’m gonna fix that.” Catter turned a look of determination, first to the sky, and then to Troy.

“Ah, me neither. And now you have.”

“So! So! I drew mine myself and I got a whole set, see?” Her coat went onto the table. Two other mercs steered away, off to less occupied shores. Underneath, she wore a sleeveless collar top and no bra. Tyreen wasn’t wearing a bra either, so whatever on that, but the loopy tattoo business liberally slathered onto Catter’s person proved to be the single most gruesome shade of magenta that Tyreen had ever seen. Like exploded printer magenta.

“And I see you like pink,” Troy offered, congenially.

Catter wiggled and drew closer once more. She still did not touch, but her eyes traced over Troy’s own markings with a precision. “Did you draw yours too? I know some places that’s a thing, but some other places you let your artist do…”

“I drew them,” said Tyreen.

A sound of distress followed. “You didn’t give him a whole set?”

“Like you said. He’s a guy. Maybe he doesn’t get a whole set. Maybe he has to earn them.”

“Wow, you two have like LORE worked out? Are you on SirenSona.net?”

“We like to keep it to ourselves. It’s, umm our stuff,” Troy said, attempting to turn away, hand in his hair this time.

“Oh, am I intruding? I’m sorry it’s just I love your eye mark and she…” Catter’s hand once more intruded, but this time she at least had the sense to apply to to her fork after she thought better. It was with her off-hand that she gestured between her table mates. “Actually, what are you two?”

Tyreen snorted.

And Troy said: “Oh, we’re cousins.” His grin flashed even in the corner of his silhouette. He tried just that hard.

So no wonder Tyreen had to fish him the rest of the way out of the proverbial ditch. “And we’re married.”

“What?” Catter’s eyes were now the size of SAT-V hubcaps. “Really? That’s wild.”

“Cousins are made for cousins, that’s what they said back at the old commune,” Troy laughed. Wow, he almost sounded convincing.

To Catter, anyway. “So you like grew up together?”

“Yeah.”

“And now you do it?”

“Yes, Catter,” snergled Tyreen. “That’s part of being married. Do you wanna come mop up our bed tonight when we get done doing it?” She layered on the sincerity, as if plying for her personal dinner. This had gotten old about five absurdities ago.

“Nooo.” As for how much no, Catter pressed one (still-gloved) finger to her lips. “But anytime you wanna fanperson, we can do that. Like you’re part of the team now and I want you to feel welcome and I’ve got that limited edition gravure with the Lilith buttshot. The one where. You know. You can see.”

Tyreen and her brother both nodded, though Tyreen could only imagine what was on display. If she’d had a human appetite, this might have been detrimental to it.

[Catter actually exists as an explanation for why the twins were managed to run around without covering their markings for APPARENT YEARS. She is not a criticism of any Siren OC. I love and feed Siren OCs ficlets.]

#bordertober #border-tober #fanfic #fanfiction #excerpt #Troy Calypso #Tyreen Calypso #Tyreen Calypso PoV #crassly implied Troyreen #backstory #snot #spot #don't snort jerky kids #black comedy #oc: Catter #drinking #idk the short ribs are probably food porn to someone

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obscuniverse · 4 years

Text

Obscu listens to: The Magnus Archives - Episode 1 ‘Angler Fish’

@derinthescarletpescatarian has been ranting at me about this series for what feels like a million years so here I am. Also apparently I’m the world’s biggest stereotype. Let’s roll, shall we?

Oooh, I do like spooky violin. Can’t have a horror anything without spooky violin.

Okay can we pause and talk about the symbolism of having ‘Angler Fish’ be your first episode title? Fun Fact! As you may recall, the angler fish is what happens when you ask any child to draw any animal that they imagine has teeth, and the teeth come out all different sizes and directions but they’re definitely spikes, and then they get so caught up with the teeth that they rush the rest of the body so it looks like a particularly carnivorous poop? That’s the one. The part that’s particularly relevant is the the bit where they’re a bunch of glowing knobheads; that is, they have a fleshy forehead appendage where the end is colonised by bioluminescent bacteria, which they use as a lure for smaller, less coprotype prey. So we’ve got some strong lure imagery, and it’s the first episode, so on one hand this is literally the lure that the series is using to draw us, the readers, into consuming (or, if you know @derinthescarletpescatarian, being consumed by) the series. Of course, it’s almost certainly referring to the content of the episode as well so I anticipate a protagonist (and possibly diverse other victims) to be _lured _into something bad for them.

Secondary Fun Fact! Anglerfish mating involve the male biting into the belly of the (several times larger in size) female and hanging on until their skin and blood vessels literally fuse together, with the anglerfish male being fed directly by nutrients from the blood of the female through their shared circulatory system. Will our protagonist bite off more than they can chew and become hopelessly, permanently enmeshed in something larger and more dangerous than they, so interwoven with it that they are unable to extricate themselves from it but also being given by it the means to survive? Will we the listeners? I guess we’ll just have to hit play because I’m only 36 seconds in. I do like the narrator’s voice though.

More spooky violin, can’t go wrong with that. Ooooh a crescendo. Hot fucking damn. Oh snap there was some sad tunelessness there!

Ohshit it’s a recorded diary! Every horror game I’ve ever played has prepared me for this moment.

Nothing spooky happens at a research institute named for strength or might in both Latin and Norse. Certainly not one that deals in esoterica. Okay, let’s see what Johnathan Sims (Simms?) gets up to at Swole Hogwarts.

What’s that? The previous Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher Archivist is dead and you’ve been hired by Spooky French Dumbledore who is almost certainly a monster because of course he is to replace them? This will end only well and definitely not with a spiral into a mental breakdown culminating in some Here’s Johnny! shenanigans.

“There are very few genuine cases” and now that you’ve jinxed yourself every single genuine case in the world is going to be crawling out of the walls to say hello. You’d think after 4 years you would’ve learned not to say such things. It’s like watching D-Class personnel at the SCP foundation.

“When an investigation has gone as far as it can it goes to the archives” (emphasis mine). So you’re gonna be digging into a 200 years’ of spoopy cold cases that are gonna get real hot real quick. I’m down.

Ahahahaha. Oh academia. Even in Swole Hogwarts you can’t get away from theorists vs practicalists.

86-91-G/H is definitely going to come up again. I can vividly picture the wild strewn-about room of someone driven mad by the haunting nature of their job. Or of my own office because of who I am as a person. I wonder which file ate Gertrude. I also wonder if the lack of use of modern electronics is a safety measure that Old Mate Johnny has unknowingly violated.

“I have secured the services of two redshirts, and you can tell because they’re unnamed researchers” “I don’t expect Martin to secretly be the highly skilled wizard/creature manipulating events form their apparent background doddering disguised as a silly fool in keeping with long fairy-tale tradition contribute anything except delays” Martin is definitely Snape. OOOooooOOOooooOOH, attempting to digitise T̵̨̛͚͉̫̩̰͍̓̽̽̍̓͑̓̾͌͗̂̈́̉ḫ̸͈̪̉̆̓̀͌̓͒̈̋̐͝ĕ̵͉̻̻ ̷̜͙̤͎͈̝̮̘̄̅̓̆̿̕͝R̴̪͑̍̒̍̾̅̐́͘͠͠ę̸̞̪͕̠͍͉̝̀̈́́͌̽ͅc̴̟̱͈̦̎̅̋̏͆̌̇͘͠͠o̶͚̞͕̲͒̋r̷̲̟̭͚̠̾͑́͋̓̈́̎͒̾̚d̴̩͓́͑̀͊̂̿͛i̴̗͈̣̟̻̯̼̘̞͕̋͜ͅņ̶̡͍͚͙̩͇̟̝̩̬͍͖̳̓g̷̯̬̙̱͚̏͂̔͐̉̇̾̋̓̎̈́͘s̷̢̫̗͙̱̻̳̞̩̐͛͂̍̑̐̊̚ have been met with significant spooky magical fuckery distortion. Fancy that.

The redshirts are named Tim and Sasha, and they will be doing some supplementary investigation suicidal monster hunting to fill in Blanks That No Man Was Meant To Fill. Maybe they’ll survive now that they have names, but they really should’ve saved the name for when one of them is mortally injured and the audience has to care enough about them for them to survive so you can reveal that they are in fact a person.

“I apologise to my eventual replacement after I am horribly eaten by/transformed into whatever is in 86-91-G/H any future researcher.”

Johnathan Sims is Niles Crane from Frasier and I will accept no word to the contrary.

Ah yes, the most esoteric and terrifying of eldritch phenomena; someone trying to bum a ciggy off you when you’re 80% scotch and 60% regret.

Ah, so “can I have a cigarette” with a human form ‘asking’ is the glowy knob on this ghost’s forehead. Completely without intonation because it’s just playing back a noise that attracts hammered people at night rather than understanding words that attract hammered people at night. Pretty sure I’ve seen this in an anime.

Apparently totally sloshed British students make better horror/urban fantasy protagonists than most movies would credit.

I take it back.

At least the spooky poopfish got some dinner.

I wonder if the missing student’s name also been John is a bit of tongue in cheek.

Oooh he’s created a “this is all bullshit” category into which he clearly intends to consign most of these. STOP PLAYING CHICKEN WITH THE UNFATHOMABLE HORRORS OF THE VOID BETWEEN THE STARS. Or, y’know, keep at it. This will not be hilarious and/or traumatic at all.

“Check out this photo of a spooky ghost if you run it through a sixth sense filter” That’s right Johnny, get beckoned.

I’m actually not 100% on this format but I’ll give it a few more tries.

#tma #the magnus archives #Swole Hogwarts #Spooky poopfish #86-91-G/H

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heartfeltheart · 4 years

Text

Alchemy: Magic Vs. Science

Chapters: 19/25 Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist/Harry Potter Rating: T Relationships: Edward/Winry, Lan Fan/Ling, and May/Alphonse. Primary Characters: Edward Elric, Severus Snape Additional Tags: Crossover, Teacher!Edward, BrOtp Edward/Severus. Sassy beyond measure. Series: Part 1 of 9. Summary: Magic and Science, are they the same or are they completely different? It just takes one person to point out all up and downs. Along with breaking the stereotypes that come up with being a wizard, alchemist and most of all being human. Thank you, @amynchan! D/C: I do not own Harry Potter or Fullmetal Alchemist. Discord: La Red(Mesh Mash of… stuff.): https://discord.gg/KYjmVAb Alchemy Series: https://discord.gg/DejEYNJ

“English and Edward’s accented voice.” “Amestrian or another foreign language.” “Written notes.” ‘Thoughts.’ First Name: Informal Last Name: Formal (Or used to annoy others)

"And this is... Alchemy in one of its finest points..."

The sound of hands clapping together reverberated around the room, an electric discharge the color of blue came from the hands onto a pile of metal, wires and other random items. The moment the light dispersed to reveal a functioning Cuckoo clock. The clock struck a new hour and out came the... what appears to be a young version Mr. Elric batting around a bat.

"Really...? Really...?" Edward deadpanned, he resisted the urge to facepalm at his superior's creation. Was it necessary to create the mini version of him swinging around a bat? No. Did the presentation show one of the many possibilities of Alchemy? Yes. Yes, it did. With a chuckle, remembering how he would add his own touch whenever he created something to his past creations. "Questions?"

"How the bloody hell did he create that?"

"This...this is...unbelievable."

"How does it work?"

"Remember what Mr. Elric taught us. The proper application requires a full understanding of chemistry and ancient alchemical theory, including to have a talent towards recognizing and manipulating the physical objects with energy, which require uncommon levels of intelligence and aptitude."

"... Could we do that?"

"Maybe one day... In the far distant future." Edward waved off the looks of amazement. He walked over at the front of the room and stood next to Roy. He reached over to pick up the clock that was on top of a slab of wood which rested on top of a table and rested it next to it. Now he picked up the slab of wood to show it to the class. The slab of wood contained a Transmutation Circle burned into it. "This is a Transmutation circle, the coming semester, something that is needed to create everything with...Alchemy."

"Are you going to teach us that?"

"No. None of you are at the level required to even start learning Transmutation Circles. Once classes start once more, the main topic I am going to teach all of you is...Rebound..." The way Edward said that the last word sent an ominous shiver down all his students spines. "The forces that are being manipulated when using Alchemy...are not human in origin the consequences for attempting to bypass the Law of Equivalent Exchange in transmutation are not merely a failure. When too much is attempted out of too little, a Rebound occurs. The alchemical forces are thrown out of balance on their side of the equation fluctuate wildly of their own accord in order stabilize themselves-taking or giving more than interned in often unpredictable and catastrophic ways such as... accidental mutation, serious injury or even death. Terrence? Question?"

"Sir... have you ever seen any of that happen before...?"

Edward put the clock back on the table with a heavy sigh. He reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose wondering how he could answer that. There are many ways he could answer that question or he could sweep it under the rug completely. No, they needed to see the result of trying to do something completely stupid. "...What I am going to show you must not leave this room. Understood?"

Edward thanked Truth for the fact Rolanda and Quirinus are not in the room.

Roy watched Edward with watchful eyes, suspicion filled within him seeing that familiar look in the younger man's eyes. "You sure about this?"

"I'm just going to show them my automail. Telling them the story behind it... maybe at a later time."

-.-

Silence fell over them, they ate their lunch slowly and methodically. Chewing on their food while they thought over what they saw earlier and the new tidbit of information on their teacher. Their teacher did something that was against the Law of Alchemy and he is living with that consequences every day. Are they still going to study alchemy? Yes, of course, they are. They came this far and they are not going to back out any time soon. The only problem they have is... how in Merlin's beard does that legwork? They never saw anything like it before and it wasn't like any other kind of prosthetics they've seen before.

"How do you think it works?"

"It has to be connected to his nervous system. It moves around as an actual leg does."

"The nervo what?"

"It's like this..."

With that, everything went back to a sense of normalcy.

-.-

"GET AWAY FROM MEEEEEEEEEEE!"

"Come Now, Edward!"

"I don't need a hug from you of all people!"

"Can't we ever have a day without this happening?" Mustang facepalm into his gloved hand, he peeked through his fingers to see a shirtless Major Armstrong trying to hug the screaming Colonel Elric. He glanced over his shoulder to see Elric's class and fellow instructors to see them watching the scene with mixed expressions. The fact that a lot of them looked bored and not bothered about the scene before them... Amestris is already getting to them. "Major Armstrong! Colonel Elric!"

Elric did not stop running away from Armstrong, he changed his course to run over towards the General and hid behind him. "Get him away from me!"

Fortunately for Elric, Armstrong stopped chasing after him and saluted, sparkles surrounding him still. "It just brings me great joy to see Edward Elric being a teacher!"

"Please tell him to stop chasing me...? Please?" Elric asked with mass hysteria in his eyes, he kept tugging on Mustang's uniform pleadingly. "Please?"

"Why am I here again?" Mustang muttered under his breath, resisting the urge to facepalm. This was something he was so not looking forward to.

"You and Major Armstrong are supposed to give a live demonstration to my class..."

"...Truth..."

-.-

Flame Alchemist vs Strong Arm Alchemist

A fight that is of epic proportions to the students and two magical instructors. They have never seen anything like it, nothing compared to what is occurring in front of their eyes. Some could feel the heat emitting from the flames or the rush of air from the soaring rocks that flew towards the fire. How both combatants are able to use alchemy in such a way has their minds boggling at all the possibilities and possible future for them.

Snap.

Punch.

Snap.

Blast!

Repeat.

"Amestris State Alchemists, all candidates undergo an extensive examination process involving a written test proving a high level of aptitude in the field, a psychological evaluation to determine whether the candidate is of sound enough mind to serve in such a specialized branch of the military and a practical examination in which the candidate proves to a military board whether or not his or her skills can be used in real-world situations." Edward explained to his students the procedure of becoming a State Alchemists. He stuffed a hand into his head and gripped his silver pocket watch, remembering the time he had taken such test. "Upon acceptance into the program, they are awarded a certificate of achievement marked with a symbolic title decided upon by the Fuhrer based on the newly accepted State Alchemist unique alchemical skills as well as their personal and dispositional traits."

"Flame Alchemist?"

"General Mustang, the Flame Alchemist, is versed in standard physical transmutation, experimental theory, and biological alchemy. Fire-based combat style of alchemy, see those gloves he's wearing?" After quick nods and mummers of yes, Edward continued. "They help him manipulate the air to do what he is doing right now. If you ask him, he might answer a few questions. Don't push him about it."

"Strong Arm Alchemist?"

".... Major Armstrong, Strong Arm Alchemist, utilizes a combat alchemy that has apparently been passed down the Armstrong line for generations and mixes alchemical skill with physical prowess. He uses those metal gauntlets strapped to his fists to transmute objects by punching them. If you want to know more but end up losing your mind in the process, go ask him. I will not be held responsible if such event occurs..."

"...What is wrong with him?"

"I have been asking that question myself for years. If you think that is bad, you should meet his eldest sister, that woman is one of the most terrifying women in Amestris. Better yet...the entire world."

Pause.

"One of...?"

"The others are Captain Hawkeye and Teacher..."

"Captain Hawkeye? She did not appear to be that terrifying."

"Stick around longer then you will see."

-.-

Edward munched on his dinner as he watched his students mob, Roy and Alex, asking them question after question about the performance they did earlier. Both Alchemist soaked in the attention and answered bit and pieces. They, after all, needed to hide away the secrets of their alchemy. The experience of them watching Alchemy being done in such manner opened their minds and see what they are studying first hand.

"Mr. Elric."

Edward glanced over to see Rolanda taking a seat next to him, she kept her gaze over the students. "Yeah?"

"You said you were a former State Alchemist, could you do what they did earlier?" Rolanda asked, turning her heard to look at Edward with her hawk-like eyes.

"...I... It is a very long story. The result is me not being able to do alchemy anymore." Edward stated lightly, smiling slightly at the reason behind him no longer being able to do alchemy anymore. It was worth the exchange.

"You don't have to answer if it is too personal, what did you exchange for you to no longer being capable of using alchemy?"

"...Again...long story and this one is...a personal one."

"My Alchemy has been passed down the Armstrong Family for several generations!"

Pause.

"How in Merlin's beard did he became a State Alchemist?"

"Shhh! Not so loud, do you want him to hear you? He will go on about the Armstrong Family Line for ages."

-.-

"I'll come back and visit again before I return back to work." Edward swung Elicia around in circles around the train station platform. Mrs. Hughes stood a couple steps away holding a cloth-covered basket, watching the scene with a small smile. "Be good, stay in school and if anyone picks on you...tell your Uncle Roy or Auntie Riza. They'll take care of it."

"Don't encourage her, Ed." Mrs. Hughes shook her head at Edward's words.

"What? I won't be in the country, and I can't get any phone calls there." Edward explained as if what he said was nothing out of the norm. "Otherwise I would take care of the problem."

Mrs. Hughes only shook her head. "Of course."

The woman smiled at the young man and extended the basket out to him. "For the trip, down to Resembool."

Edward places Elicia back down on the ground, the girl giggles as she keeps a grasp on her brother's pants to no fall. The Golden Blonde reached over and took the basket and he smelled that familiar scent of apple pies filled his nose. Such a pleasant scent. "Thank you, they smell amazing!"

"Are you ready to go, Fullmetal?"

Edward, Mrs. Hughes, and Elicia turned to see Roy and his unit standing in front of them. The Sandy Blonde girl smiled brightly and ran over to Roy and hugged him. "Uncle Roy!"

Roy smiled hugely at the girl and patted her on the head. "There's my favorite Squirrel Scout."

Elicia's cheeks puff out. "It's Lion Scout! Lion Scout!"

"Gasp-Of course it is! How could I forget such detail~" Roy chastised himself for forgetting such detail. He glanced over at Riza and gave her a silent command. "Hawkeye, Havoc, why don't you two take Gracia and Elicia home. It's getting late."

"Of course, Sir!"

Both soldiers gave Edward either a salute or nod before they escorted the Hughes family back to their home.

"Bye Little Brother!" Elicia called out, waving at Edward.

Edward waved back with a small smile, the smile disappeared once she was out of sight. Glancing over at his shoulder to give his superior a bored look, the Golden Blonde could only wonder what the man is about to inform him. "What?"

"I have people stationed along the tracks, try not to get into trouble."

-.-

The train ride from Central to Resembool was filled with random games, eating pies, homework, eating pies, sleeping and once more... eating pies. This time around, Mr. Elric had fallen asleep clutching onto his suitcase. It is worth mentioning he kept muttering under his breath something about...wrench of doom...? Interesting.

"Does he live out in the country?"

"Naw, he has to live in a city or something."

"In a mansion?"

"Castle?"

"I think he lives in a small cottage in the middle of a forest and you could hear a bubbling creek nearby."

"Maybe by a river!"

"Or by a volcano."

"No. He lives in a laboratory or some sorts, him working on his alchemy."

"Mr. Elric told us he lives down the road from his fiancé, and we'll be switching our time between both homes. If not...mostly in future Mrs. Elric's home."

"I still can't believe he's getting married, he's still young!"

"...In the Magical Community... It is rather common to see a student from the more... restricted pureblood families... get married off the moment they leave Hogwarts. Do you believe that could be happening here?"

"Naw, from what Mr. Elric told us, he'd know his fiancé almost his entire life and said that she's his mechanic. Whatever that means."

"A mechanic fixes muggle machinery and everything else of that sort. Remember Mr. Elric's leg? That's a piece of machinery."

"...A mechanic? Hm..."

"What?"

"Mechanics are uneducated, dishonest, uncaring, dirty, and would purposely break parts to get more work or bulling their customers into unneeded services individuals. A mechanic...hah!" One of the students, a muggle-born Ravenclaw, huffed out in disgust. "My parents dealt with many mechanics over the years, they are all the sa-"

-.-

"Hello~" A very attractive female in her late teens waved at a group of strangely dressed schoolchildren, for Resembool, getting off a train. She has long light blonde hair tied in a high pony-tail, with long locks of hair on either side of her face and bangs, blue eyes and is wearing a short-sleeved sundress. "Hogvarts?"

The Hogwarts students and two professors wonder if this is the Alchemy Teacher's fiancé. The way said man described her to be... is not what they are seeing. She seemed...delicate, polite, and a grease monkey. Her voice is heavily accented to the point they could hardly tell what she was telling them to a point.

Suddenly, the young woman's eyes brightened at whatever was behind the group. "Edward!"

"Winry!"

Everyone turned around to see Edward stepping out of the train, grinning at the Blue-Eyed Blonde. He only took a couple of steps towards her when he was almost flung backward in a bone-wrenching hug, dropping his suitcase in the process. Edward braced himself to prevent himself to prevent himself to fall backward with Winry in his arms. Once he regained his balance, the Golden Blonde swung the Blue-Eyed Blonde around laughingly. "I thought you were going to wait at home, Winry."

"I couldn't wait, I had to see you as soon as possible. Don't worry, Granny is taking care of the pies." Winry said once Edward stopped swinging her around. "So...introduce me. I want to meet these...students of yours."

"...Don't tell me... You have no faith in me being a teacher?" Edward deadpanned.

"Hahaha. Oh, Edward... I'm just surprised you haven't killed anyone yet." Winry laughed, waving off Edward's look of despair. She reached up and grabbed hold of Edward's coat to pull him down enough to kiss him on the lips.

At that moment, everything went blank for Edward... everything just felt... perfect.

-.-

"How much longer now?"

"I can't feel my legs anymore..."

"This goes many of our ideas of his possible home..."

"At least it isn't freezing!"

"It's winter....it supposed to snow..."

"Sh! Remember, we are supposed to be camping. Camping in the snow isn't fun! Believe me... it's not fun..."

Walking up ahead of the group, Edward and Winry whispered to silently to themselves. Both all giggles and smiles but that was just a front. Pay closer attention, you could see Winry if gripping Edward's arm far too tightly and said male purposely kept his face forward to not show anyone his tears.

"Who exactly is at your house again...?" Edward asked through teary eyes.

"Your brother, Mei, Lan Fan and Ling...."

Edward stopped at a fork of a road. One road leads to the Rockbell's Residence and the other lead to his own residence. He turned over to face Winry, shoulder's tense and expression unreadable. "Who else is there?"

"You think I'm hiding something from you?" Winry questioned Edward with a frown, crossing her arms over her chest. She glared at the Golden Blonde, no once did she waver.

"It's Teacher, isn't it?"

"... I invited her and Sig. After you told me you told them we got engaged."

"How is she?"

"She's helping me with the wedding."

"Define helping...?"

-.-

Bang!

Slam!

Screams of pain!

Break!

Shouting!

The two Hogwarts professors and eight students stood in front of a two-story home with a sign in the front. It appeared to be a simple home if it weren't for the fact that Mr. Elric and Miss. Rockbell entered the home and the moment he closed the door behind himself... chaos. He had told everyone else to stay outside until he cleared whatever was inside the Rockbell residence. Apparently whatever it was... it wasn't pretty.

There was a debate about whether or not to go inside to check on the Alchemy Professor. That idea was shot down when the sounds of pain reverberated throughout the entire home.

Wait... is that silence?

SLAM!

The door was slammed open and both Mr. Elric's were thrown out of the Rockbell residence with shouts of surprise. Everyone kept their eyes on the doorway, not able to look away. It was either from fright or morbid curiosity.

Then... they saw... her?

Tag List Below:

Permanent Tag List: @runestarchild @princesskitomi @fanfictionpromptsblog @souleateralicestein @vixen-uchiha @okami-knight @legendaryneckjudgestudent @weird-homosapien @justafanwarrior @vivilakitty @ravennightingaleandavatempus @if-you-give-a-chat-a-cookie @moonwatcher04 @darkshadowguardian @two-faced-biatch @kris-pines04 @mewwitch @edwardhatori @kuroko26 @tall-and-angry @bloody-no-kissu @crazylittlemunchkin @tbehartoo @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @melicmusicmagic

#Alchemy Series #Magic vs Science #FMA #HP #HP/FMA #Crossover #Fanfic #Au #Chapter 19

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mittensmorgul · 5 years

Note

Any thoughts on the differences between ghosts and demons, since Hell has been busted open but it's pretty much just ghosts topside (except Belphie). It can't just be time in Hell as the deciding factor - unless Jack the Ripper's been haunting people for awhile and just recently got his soul sent to Hell. Crowley's the only demon we really have a timeline for... I wonder if souls "choose", like Dean's "choice" to get off the rack and take up the knife when he was in Hell...

So... I don’t honestly have more than random guesses to go on here, but this is one of those cosmological things I tend to obsess over at 3 am, so I decided to take this directly to grey’s chattybubbles, and we had an interesting chat about it. I’ll just put it here because our rambling entertained me, and heck, maybe someone else has something to add...

Warnings for incredibly dubious math below the cut :’D

mittensmorgulI gotta say, your ask message is something I've been thinking about since last week, but jack the ripper's ghost has made it 100000x worse >.>I'm just gonna... ramble a bit in your general direction and see if we can come up with an answer either of us finds reasonable >.>Maybe it's a frogs and toads situation. All toads are frogs, but not all frogs are toads?i.e. all demons once were human souls, but not all human souls can or will become demons

mittensmorgulI don't know if it's their choice as to whether they become demons or not, or some other unrelated metaphysical process. But I've wondered this for a while about how crossroads demons develop red eyes while "regular demons" don't. So what makes a crossroads demon vs a run of the mill demon?

grey2510right

mittensmorgulI know it's not the same question, but it's in the same family of questions :'D

grey2510one of the things I was considering was what made them go to Hell in the first placelike someone who made a deal - for whatever reason - is someone who knows to look for loopholes and ways out of a shit situationand if your options are "be tortured" or "not be tortured"...

grey2510could also explain how crossroads demons are made... maybe the crossroads demons all made deals as humansit's a self perpetuating systemwhereas some psychopath serial killer would get sent to hell, but might not have the deal-making acumenif that makes any kind of sense

mittensmorgulI always had assumed that the torture was part of the process, and that happening in Hell was what turned a soul into a demon, you know? But if Hell is mostly just ghosts being tortured for their sins for eternity, rather than being tortured into demons within a relatively short span of time (one would think 140 earth years should do it...) maybe only some souls are even able to become demonsor there may be a specific process involved to turn them-- like witches who pledge themselves to a demon like RubyAnd Crowley, who made a deal and then ended up a crossroads demon

grey2510yeah

mittensmorgullike maybe there had to be a bit of something supernatural already staining the soul to make them eligible :'D

grey2510because we know it must have been a relatively short turn around for Crowley - in earth years, he died 300 years ago, but he was turned demon in enough time to know Naomi and refer to Mesopotamia (which doesn't sound modern) and to establish himself as King of the Crossroads

mittensmorgulBecause if it was just a matter of a choice, I don't think very many people would choose "torture" over "do this and you can become a demon which is bad but heck it's not torture"

grey2510yeahunless they truly believed they were guilty (but that's more of Lucifer the show's version of Hell)I don't have an answer but I thought Spiders George might have a few thoughtslol*georg

mittensmorgulyeah, and Crowley has STUDIED STUFF. I mean, he knows Enochian, knows all the major players, knows tons of unrelated lore and weapons and all sorts of stuff (including magic he presumably learned as a human)So he's been a demon (or at least not just some poor tortured soul in Hell) for a very, very long time to have been "King of the Crossroads" in a leadership position even at the beginning of the serieshe didn't spend 140 of those years languishing as a soul in Hell

grey2510yeahand he had it in with Lilith

mittensmorgulyeah, this is all just random thoughts, but I don't know if canon will ever make a statement on it one way or another.

grey2510I'd be surprised if they did

mittensmorguland Jack the Ripper was I believe Eugenie's pet Evil Thing in this episode, so I don't know that this wasn't just a random "I'm gonna use this because it sounds cool! Screw canon!" moment for her or what

grey2510especially since we have BL canon acrobatics

mittensmorgulyeah

grey2510yeah - I could really care less about Jack the Ripper but if that's her current chew toy, have fun

mittensmorgulI think Ketch is her current chew toy

grey2510well him too

mittensmorgulwhich I'll take over Lucifer or Nick any day:P

grey2510haha I was just about to say that

mittensmorgulbut yeah, as far as understanding the cosmology and metaphysics, if it's just BL canon I tend to ignore it as much as possible unless we get secondary confirmation of a thing from another writer

grey2510yeah - although we do have a little bit of outside of BL since it was introduced in 15x01but that could have just been the other writers tossing a shiny object to her

mittensmorgulwell the oldest of those other souls from hell that we saw was 15 earth years, the Woman in White.Which... I could buy she wouldn't have been "demonized" yet.

grey2510yeahalso - Lizzie Borden we don't know for sure because our Lizzie ep wasn't actually Lizzie right?

mittensmorgulShe was a deeply traumatized ghost for decades before being sent to Hell in 1.01yeah, it was a fake haunting, and Amara eating people's souls

grey2510rightbeen awhile since I've seen that season

mittensmorgulBut nothing in canon clarified if it was lizzie borden with the ax anyway, we just assume it was

grey2510truebut yeah - Constance still being a soul and not a demon makes sense

mittensmorgulAnd if it was, we don't know if that was scripted, or something someone thought would look cool and costumed that way

grey2510yeah

mittensmorgulBUT! I do think it's likely that most souls don't become demons, otherwise there would've been a heck of a lot more of them. And like we've been running out of angels, Hell was running low on demons by s13even by s11, after amara ate her way through a lot of them

grey2510trueit still does make you wonder what it is that makes some souls "special" enough to become demons

mittensmorgulI've always found it weird we don't really see a lot of "brand new demons"

grey2510....still waiting for Bela to show up and be like fuck all y'all

mittensmorgulBela should be queen of the crossroads. She made a deal, dealt with the supernatural, and deserved better.

grey2510seriouslyshe'd be the natural successor - she was pretty much the human equivalent before she got dragged away

mittensmorgulyep

grey2510i know this is also just early season weirdness, but there was never anything else about different types of demons like the shadowy things that Meg called

mittensmorgulthough I'm 99% sure the show can't afford Lauren Cohan, and I'm not sure they'd bring back Bela without her. Though as a demon she would by necessity be wearing a different meatsuit...

grey2510yeah - they could put her in anyone

mittensmorgulYeah, the Daevasand the Acheri demon we saw exactly once in 2.21 >..

grey2510or why wispy the pilot was doing his thingoh yeah that was the girl looking thing right?

mittensmorguland good old Specky from 1.04 with his airplane fetishyeah

grey2510i'm just going to assume that they were things that other hunters/lore called "demons" because they didn't have another name for them

mittensmorgulyeah

grey2510anyway, it would be fascinating to know what exactly the soul to demon process is all about

mittensmorgulbut human souls, twisted into demons, seems to happen by a very specific process. Like it must be done TO the soulit's probably all on the demon tablet >.>

grey2510haha probably

mittensmorgulbut they mentioned there were several BILLION souls in Hell, which seems... rather a lot... I just looked it up... about 55 million people die every year.

grey2510that's a lot of big numbers

mittensmorgulso about 20 years for a billion people to die

grey2510so not my area lol

mittensmorguland I assume the vast majority of them do not go to Hell

grey2510lol ok - i'm glad you did the math (i've been grading freshman papers all day so my brain is kinda fried)do you watch the Good Place?

mittensmorgulI mean if even Ken Lay gets into Heaven, then we have to assume the VAST majority of people who die won't go to Hell

grey2510yeah

mittensmorgulno I haven't seen it, but I've watched through tumblr :'D

grey2510the rules seem pretty laxah gotchai was going to make a reference to something that happened last season but didn't want to ruin it for you

mittensmorgulso if even 1/10 people who die end up in Hell, it would still take like 200 years for a billion souls to accumulate. Or 2000 years if only 1 /100 people go to Hell

grey2510so assume a few centuries to get a billion

mittensmorgul(and the death rate has not always been as high as it is now, with 8 billion people on the planet, compared to 2000 years ago, you know? so that's more math than I'm actually willing to do :P)

grey2510lolyeah spn's hell rules seem to be "made a deal" and "totally evil person"murders, rapists, etc.not much in the middle

mittensmorgulyeahbut the population of the earth even 200 years ago was less than 1/10 what it is today, so the death rate would've also dropped by that much, making it take that much longer for hell souls to accumulate.Point being, if there are that many SOULS in Hell, and not just demons, then apparently not every soul DOES become a demonand I REALLY NEED TO KNOW WHY NOW

grey2510haha

mittensmorgulGAH

grey2510it's been bugging me too, so i guess we can suffer together

mittensmorgulokay, I really wanna copy/paste this as the reply to your message, because I feel like my non-answer is a good answer

grey2510fine by me

mittensmorguland maybe we can have other people pitch in ideas :PI'm pretty sure this is the sort of thing Canon will never explain in detail, but it's exactly the sort of thing I personally wonder about the most.

grey2510so where did we land? something done specifically to the soul that turns them, but then also the question of whether there's something about the soul that makes them a viable candidate for the transformation?

mittensmorgulyeah, that's succinct. :'D

grey2510and then if crossroads demons are former deal makers

mittensmorgulalso if they've made a deal either with a crossroads demon, or as a "borrower witch," as they've been called by other witches in canon

grey2510or something else about them that determines what kind of demon they'll be come*become

mittensmorgulyeah

#heaven hell purgatory and the empty #angels and souls #because i don't just have a 'human souls' tag and i gotta stick this somewhere :'D #grey2510

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luckyspike · 5 years

Text

You really dungeon my dragons babey - a Good Omens fanfic about D&D

Here’s the AO3 link if you want to read it there instead.

Basically, Newt wants to start a D&D group. Anathema recruits two players: one is a being of neutral good, and the other chaotic evil. Roll initiative.

They’ve lived in Jasmine Cottage for about two years when Anathema started to worry about Newt a little. Not much, but a little. Oh, he wasn’t sick, there was nothing wrong with him per se, but, well. She thought about Tadfield, and the cottage, and Newt.

He worked in the village, doing grant writing for a non-profit. It was a wonderful job for him, and he fell into it shortly after the Nahpocalypse - Adam said Pepper’s mom was looking for someone to help her out with the business, and things had just gone from there. Anathema still harbored some suspicion that Adam had had perhaps a little more to do with it than just overhearing Pepper’s mom talking shop, but he swore innocence (not that she believed him, but he was such a good kid she let it slide) and Newt loved the job, flourished in it even, and Anathema had been content. She herself earned a living doing telephone psychic readings*, and made herself a fixture in the village. After all, what quaint little village doesn’t love having a witch in this modern age? She did her readings, and helped out at the primary school when they needed it, and coordinated the community garden. Eight months into her residency, a bashful RP Tyler approached her and apologized, actually apologized for accusing her of smoking fatty spliffers (which she and Crowley had adopted as the de facto term for anything involving marijuana at all), and thanked her for coming to town and her service to the community, even if she was a witch. She had ingrained herself into the little village of Tadfield, and she made friends, and in spite of not having a road map for her life any longer, she was happy.

And Newt, she thought, seemed very happy too. He said he was happy. He went to work and returned home and fussed over Dick Turpin and meddled with computers in the office (he had not improved, but he had a good time, so that was what counted). He played with The Them when they asked him, and helped them with homework, and always was on Anathema’s arm whenever she went out. He took her on lovely dates, and made her laugh every day, and was so wonderfully Newt that she couldn’t imagine life without him. Agnes, blast her, had been very right about that one.

But even in light of all that - in light of the perfect life they seemed to have settled into in Tadfield - she worried. She thought about her life and his, and contrasted the two, and thought about how she had friends in the village and long-distance that she liked to call, visit, do things with. And she thought about Newt, and considered that most of his activities were solitary. She mulled it over for months. He was much more introverted than she was, true, and valued his personal time, but unless he was doing something with her, or with The Them, he entertained himself exclusively.

She wondered if that would be his choice.

She brought it up in the fall, two years in, over lunch at the pub in the village. He paused, sandwich in hand, chewing thoughtfully. He swallowed and then said, “I’m not really sure I follow what you mean.”

“I mean,” Anathema went on, stealing a few chips from his plate, “that I just want to make sure your needs are being met. Are your hobbies okay, or is there something that you want to do but haven’t been able to because you don’t have anybody to do it with?” She raised her eyebrows. He frowned. “I mean, I know some people in the village, at the air base, so maybe I could introduce you if you want to like, take up, oh, I don’t know, horseshoes or something.”

“Horseshoes?” He laughed. “Why horseshoes?”

“It was just an example.” She shrugged and stole a few more chips. “I’m just asking, no pressure. But you know, you work on computers by yourself, and take care of Dick Turpin by yourself -”

“Sometimes Brian helps.”

“Mostly by yourself,” she amended, “and you don’t do pub quiz nights or a book club or anything, not that you should want to do those things, of course, but, you know, do you?”

Newt took another bite, and smiled at her, which managed to be charming even with a cheekful of roast beef. “Never really been one for pub quiz or reading. Well, except the newspaper.” He swallowed. “Thanks for asking but, you know I really am very happy.”

“Good.” She returned his smile, and stole another three chips. At this point, Newt had resolved himself to simply not getting any, and didn’t say anything. “Just making sure.”

They ate in silence for a few minutes, Newt idly watching the cricket match on the pub TV and Anathema checking in with a cat she’d spoken to a few weeks ago who had been very disgruntled and wanted to be sure her owner knew to stop giving her a certain brand of food. The cat assured her that all was well, and thank you for checking, and Anathema was just about to return her attention to her boyfriend when he spoke. “You know, there is something I haven’t done in years, used to do it as a kid, but it might be fun if we can find a few more people to do it with.”

“Oh?”

“You ever played Dungeons and Dragons?”

Anathema kept her face carefully blank. “Is that … like, Dungeons and Dragons, where you roll dice and pretend to be a wizard?”

“Yeah, the roleplaying game. Have you ever played?”

“No.”

“It’s pretty fun if you have a good group,” Newt went on happily. “I used to play with a few people when I was in sixth form. We got together twice every month and the one guy - his name was Martin, I think - would run the sessions. I was a barbarian.”

“A barbarian?” Anathema laughed. “Seriously?”

“Yeah! Named ‘Urgular’.” He sighed. “He died about four months into the campaign, got killed by some harpies, but Martin let him get resurrected by magic so I could keep playing.” A thoughtful look crossed his face. “Wish I could remember his last name … I really should have kept in touch with him. Maybe my mum’ll remember.”

Anathema shifted in her seat, sitting on her hands and thinking it over. “How many people do you need to play?”

“Oh? Oh, at least four. Three players and one dungeon master. That’s the person that runs the game session,” he clarified, when Anathema raised an eyebrow and smirked. “It’s better if you have four players though, so a group of five is better. That’s how many we had.”

Anathema thought about it, chewing her lip. “So say we could get three other people.”

“Who?”

She held up a hand. “Say we can get three other people. Would you want to play? You’d probably have to run the game, unless we find someone who’s played before.”

Newt looked surprised. “You’d play?”

“Of course.” She shrugged. “I’ve never done it before, but I listen to that podcast you like where they play, and it seems like fun.” She raised her eyebrows. “You want me to ask around?”

“I can ask around too,” he said, eagerly. “You know what, yeah. Yeah! Let’s see if we can get some people together for a session, just a one-shot session, and see how it goes. If it’s fun, we can make it a regular thing!”

Anathema laid her hands on the table. “Alright, that’s settled. I’ll ask some people, you ask some people, we can see if we can make it work. And you’re sure you’ll still have fun if you’re in charge?”

“Might even be more fun,” he replied, with a glint in his eye. “Yeah, let’s do it. You know, I can think of a few people to ask, let me know if you find anybody too.”

It proved harder than she thought. First of all, while she was sure The Them would be more than willing to play, she wanted to try to keep the group to adults. She asked a few friends from the air base, but they all turned her down for various reasons (one sergeant had been very eager and accepted initially, but called her a few days later with the news that she was being transferred back to America, and wouldn’t be able to join). She asked around at the school, too, but in most cases they cited problems finding childcare or reluctance to play. Newt had somewhat better luck, and managed to find one person to join - Pepper’s mother, his boss - but he, too, struck out after pooling his group of coworkers. Days turned into weeks, and the issue gradually slid from both of their minds, although Pepper’s mom would ask Newt about it sometimes, checking for any developments.

Anathema had completely forgotten about it, actually, until one evening about a month after their lunch at the pub, when she was on one of her sporadic but always-pleasant phone calls with Aziraphale. They were talking - just social chat, nothing serious - and he asked after Newt, as usual. “He’s good,” she said, lounged back on the sofa, legs crossed and free hand tucked into her sweatshirt pocket against the early winter chill. “No big developments. He likes work, he’s still awful with computers, and he still loves his car.” She adjusted her glasses, and sighed. “We were trying to get together a group to play Dungeons and Dragons - he used to play in school and he liked it a lot - but we’ve been having trouble organizing it, so, you know, holding pattern on that.”

She was surprised when the angel said, “Oh, the roleplaying game with the dice?”

It was so out-of-the-ordinary for Aziraphale, perpetually stuck 100 years in the past, to know anything modern that she needed a second to recover. “Yeah,” she said, eventually. “You know it?”

“There’s a group that meets in the bookshop once a month to play. I make them tea.” Of course he did. “It seems interesting, I suppose.”

Anathema blinked. Should she … ? Oh, why not? she figured. You stop the apocalypse with someone, playing some roleplaying game was hardly a marriage proposal**. “We have room in the group - Newt was hoping to get five people, but right now we only have three, and he said we could play with four.”

She heard him humming as he thought. “Why not? I’ll have the group in the shop give me a lesson.”

She laughed, and tried to imagine that conversation. “I don’t know how to play at all, so I’m assuming it’s fine if you don’t know anything.”

“Well, perhaps just a brief overview. You said a group of five would be preferable?”

“Yeah, but we’ve had so much trouble just finding four. And Newt and Marion - that’s Pepper’s mom - are really eager to start playing, so if you really want to join we can -”

“I’ll bring Crowley.”

That gave her pause. Crowley was … he was a demon of many talents and a colorful and varied history, but somehow she was having difficulty imagining him playing D&D. “Has he … played?”

“Not that I know of.” She almost cut in, but something in Aziraphale’s tone of voice - yes, yes, it was mischief, that was it, Anathema had learned that early on because for an angel, Aziraphale did like to stir it up every once in a while - stopped her. “I’m sure he’ll take right to it.”

“You think?”

“At the very least it will be extremely entertaining. He doesn’t do anything by halves.” A tinge of concern broke in. “It can be a blessing and a curse.”

“No, no he doesn’t.” She smiled, already imagining various ways Newt’s game could go with the introduction of an actual being of chaotic evil. “Will he say yes?”

“What’s he going to claim, work conflict? He’ll say yes.” He sounded smug. “I’ll tell him about it later tonight. Do you have a date established for this?”

“Not yet - we’ll have to talk to Marion and make sure it works for everybody. If you tell Crowley tonight, can I text him the possibilities?”

“Certainly. I look forward to it.” The amusement dropped, and he changed the subject, “Which, speaking of Crowley, did I tell you he’s set on having an exhibit at Chelsea Flower Show next year? He’s got so many plants in the house I’m starting to think we’re going to have to start breathing just to make sure they get enough carbon dioxide …” He went on, and Anathema listened, but she was also thinking. She couldn’t wait to tell Newt.

She sent a text with a few Saturdays to Crowley two days later, after she told Newt, he had time to freak out about it slightly***, and Newt had spoken with Marion about her schedule. If the demon was unhappy about it, she couldn’t tell, although he was usually not particularly emotive in text message format. They exchanged a few more messages, setting a final date and confirming, and that was that as far as she was concerned. Two days before the chosen Saturday, she decided to start working on her character. Newt had been working on the game session furiously since she’d told him she’d found two more players, and she suspected he was diligently trying to engineer a way that Crowley’s character could not die. Either that, or he was writing a really brilliant story. As she flipped through the player manual, chapter 1, and read about classes and races and abilities and points, she smiled and considered, knowing Newt, it was probably both.

She did get a little stuck, unfamiliar with the mechanics of the game, and on Friday night she and Newt sat down with a bottle of wine to go over both her character (he had already checked Marion’s at work earlier that day just to be sure everything was as it should be) and allow him to express any anxiety he continued to have about the game. She assured him that she felt he would do a great job - he would, there were no computers involved at all and Newt really was a very good storyteller - and that Crowley certainly wouldn’t kill him with both Aziraphale and Marion, an outsider, present, and therefore Newt had nothing to be concerned about. He clearly disagreed, but it did seem to calm him down somewhat, and he only tossed and turned for about 30 minutes before drifting off to his usual dead-to-the-world slumber that night.

Saturday dawned gray and rainy. Perfect, Anathema thought, for staying in. She dressed in her most comfortable flannel dress, and set to making bread for the afternoon. Newt had picked up a variety of cheeses, dried fruit, nuts, and jams yesterday as well, and she was planning on serving the bread with it, which would allow everybody to eat whatever they liked and as much as they liked. Aziraphale had kindly offered to bring something sweet to compliment the savory, as well as a bottle of wine (which Anathema knew would amount to several bottles of very nice wine, per his usual), so rather than getting any wine out she pulled down a bottle of whisky from the cabinet, as well as the usually-unused espresso machine. Around nine-thirty, she heard Newt upstairs, moving around and getting ready, eventually padding into the office, presumably to make any last-minute adjustments. Anathema, with the bread in the oven and everything as ready as she could think to make it for whatever might happen that afternoon, went to the living room to make a few scheduled phone calls - there was a horse in Surrey who wouldn’t go in its stall, and a dog in Indiana that kept eating chair legs, and two owners who were very concerned about their respective pets - while she waited.

Marion arrived first, promptly at two. Anathema welcomed her in, hung up her raincoat - “it’s awful out there, cold and coming down like anything, glad Pep and the others were happy to stay in rather than try to go to that chalk pit in this weather” - and led the way to the living room. “We’re expecting two more,” she explained, raising her voice a little as she went to the kitchen to get the other woman a glass of water. “They’ll be fashionably late, as usual.”

“Friends of yours?” Marion asked when Anathema returned. “The bread smells delicious, by the way, thank you for baking.”

“No trouble, my pleasure. And yeah, we met them a couple of years ago when I was new in town. I had … some trouble with my bike (In that Crowley hit it with his car, she thought) and they gave me a ride home. Of course I forgot some stuff in their car, so we had to meet again so I could get that back, and we just sort of stayed in touch ever since.”

Marion beamed. “How nice. I’m very excited - I’ve always wanted to play this, but I could never convince anyone in the commune to play with me.” She laughed. “Much more interested in guitar circles, that group. Anyway, after I left, I went straight back to school and it was just me and Pep and I got so busy raising her and working and all that I sort of forgot about it. Funny how it worked out though!”

“Yeah,” Anathema laughed. “I’ve always been a big believer in things working out the way they’re supposed to. Can I get you anything else to drink? Newt should be down in a minute.”

“Oh some tea would be lovely, thank you, Anathema.” She pulled out a character sheet and a notebook, and smiled encouragingly. “I need a minute to look over this anyway.”

“Yeah,” she laughed, standing. “Newt helped me last night with that. I think I have about a tenth of what I’m going to need to know handled.”

Marion looked relieved. “Thank goodness someone feels the same way. I was afraid I was missing something.”

“No, not at all. Newt’s the only one that’s played before, although Mister, um Mr. Fell, that will be joining us, he owns a bookshop in Soho and said there’s a group that plays there once a month, so he’s picked up a little from them.”

“Oh, interesting!” She nodded, and then returned to her notebook, double-checking the scribbled numbers and items against the player manual. Anathema excused herself and headed into the kitchen to put the kettle on - Newt was on his way downstairs anyway, if the creaking of the floorboards was any indication, and Crowley and Aziraphale probably weren’t long off.

The kettle had just clicked off and Anathema had poured three cups of tea - Newt, Marion, Aziraphale - as well as made one espresso - Crowley - when the knock came at the door. Fashionably late, as usual. She left the tea to steep, and answered it. The duo were on the step, Aziraphale with two notebooks tucked under his arm and a bag of what Anathema assumed to be dice in his hand, and Crowley holding two bottles of wine and balancing a plate of biscuits, possibly nominally happy. It was pouring, they did not have any semblance of raingear, and they were perfectly dry. Typical.

“Come in!” She stepped aside to allow both entry - the horseshoe above the door sizzled in the rain as it heated and cooled - and exchanged a hug with Aziraphale before taking the wine and plate from Crowley. “Can I take any coats? I made tea. And coffee. It’s extremely hot.”

“You’re a lifesaver.” Crowley stayed hunched in his jacket. “It’s freezing. How is it not snowing?”

Aziraphale patted his shoulder. “Because it’s not actually freezing, dear, it’s just winter. And I told you to bring the heated coat.”

Anathema blinked. “Heated coat?”

“S’got batteries in, stays really warm,” the Serpent of Eden replied. “I’ll be fine in twenty.”

“I’ll get the coffee. Newt and Marion - that’s Pepper’s mother - are already in the living room. If you want, I’m sure Newt can double-check everything for you before we get started. He helped me last night, and I think he’s just making sure things are alright with Marion now.”

Aziraphale looked relieved. “Oh, good. I’m fairly certain I have the right of it at this point, but the group at the shop cancelled this month because of exams so I couldn’t have anybody check it beforehand.”

“Mine’s fine,” Crowley said. Anathema tried not to think too much about the grin that accompanied that. “Got it all figured out.”

“Right. I’ll, uh. I’ll be right in then.” By the time she finished setting the drinks on a tray and joined everyone, introductions had been made and papers and notebooks and dice were laid out on the table. Newt had laid her place for her, to his right, while he had a little cardboard screen set up. Aziraphale and Marion were chatting and Crowley was studying what Anathema could only assume was his character sheet, holding it so it was concealed from the other players, and he was positively beaming. It couldn’t be good. She knew that look. Aziraphale was, resolutely, ignoring him.

“Okay,” Newt said, nervousness apparent in his voice but determination on his face. “Now we’re all settled uh, why don’t we kind of go through everyone’s character together, just basics to sort of clarify who your character is and why they might be going on an adventure. Anathema, do you want to start?”

She nodded and picked her sheet up. “Ok. I’ll be playing Tovi, a halfling sorcerer. She was initially raised by a close family, but the homebody lifestyle was not exciting enough for her, so she decided to strike out on her own.”

“Great! Awesome. And we checked your sheet already, so that’s fine. Marion?”

Marion sat forward, hands on her character sheets, reading carefully. “I’ll be playing Brandeen, a human warlock. She comes from a very religious family who shunned her when she formed a pact with Ghaunadar.”

“Good name, Ghaunadar,” Crowley said. “Very spooky.”

“I thought so, too,” Marion agreed, folding her hands in her lap. “Anyway, that’s me.” She looked to Aziraphale, to her right, who set his tea down carefully.

“Ah, so this character is called, ah, Aldriel Lightmace, and he’s an elf paladin. He was initially in the army, but on completion of his service he chose to continue traveling rather than return home.”

Newt nodded. “Sounds great, and your sheet looked fine.” He swallowed, and looked to the demon, grinning like a jackal to his left. “I’m almost afraid to ask.” Aziraphale sighed, Marion giggled, and Anathema propped her chin in her hand. “Crowley?”

“I,” he said, every single indicator being that he was delighted with himself as he slapped the notebook down on the table, “will be Chastity the tiefling bard. I was forced to leave town for 1) being a demon and 2) being annoying.”

Aziraphale scowled. “A bit on the nose, don’t you think?”

“Play what you feel comfortable with, the book said. Anyway you’re one to talk.”

Anathema covered her eyes. “Are you going to sing?” She had heard Crowley sing before, either after many drinks or a particularly potent fatty spliffer, and it had made her second-guess all of the things she’d heard about the beautiful harmonious choirs of angels. Of course, Crowley was not technically an angel anymore, so maybe he’d lost that at some point. If not, then she’d considered that the beauty of the Heavenly Choir had probably been greatly over-exaggerated.

“Of course I am.”

Newt grimaced. “Great. So that’s … that’s actually an okay party in terms of balance. Should be fine for today, anyway. Can I see your character sheet, please? Just to … just to check?” Crowley handed it over, the big reveal done with, and Newt duly checked it for accuracy. “Right. Fine. You don’t need many intelligence points anyway, I guess.” He handed the sheet back, and visibly steeled himself. “Okay. So … that’s everyone. Is everyone ready?” He took a breath. “Right, so we start in an inn, at the bar. The inn isn’t crowded, there’s a group of three adventurers talking to a grizzled old dwarf in one corner, he appears to be giving them a job, and there’s a few other patrons at the bar. There barkeep is cleaning a glass. What do you do?”

Anathema considered it. “I think Tovi is at the bar ordering a drink.”

“Brandeen is sitting quietly in a corner by herself, watching.”

“Aldriel is going to approach the elf sitting alone at the end of the bar and -”

“Chastity is going to hit on Aldriel immediately.”

Marion and Anathema laughed. Aziraphale looked at Crowley, exasperated. “Really?”

“Yes.”

Marion held up a hand. “How long have you two known each other?”

“Too long,” Aziraphale answered peevishly, while Crowley sat back, still grinning, arms crossed over his chest. “Alright, so if you’re going to do that, Aldriel will -”

“You don’t want to hear the pick-up line?”

“I do not.”

Anathema and Newt shared a look. Newt, under the nerves, was smiling a little. “I do,” she said.

Crowley leaned back in. “So anyway, Chastity walks up to Aldriel and says ‘glad I brought my library card, because I’m checking you out’.”

“That’s awful,” Aziraphale groaned. Marion and Anathema laughed. Newt’s smile broadened. “Truly horrible.”

“Innit, though?”

“Brandeen is definitely watching this with interest,” Marion added, still laughing.

“I think Tovi heard what might be the world’s worst pickup line and turned around, too.”

Aziraphale considered this. “Aldriel punches Chastity in the face.”

“Okay - what?” Newt stopped. “Uh, I, what? You’re serious?”

“Yes.”

Newt tapped the table. “Because I think technically you have to be lawful good and -”

Aziraphale corrected, “Actually, Aldriel took the Oath of the Ancients, therefore he is able to be neutral good.” He squared his shoulders. “This demon has sullied my purity, and I won’t have it. I punch her.”

Newt blinked, and then sighed. “Alright. Fine. Both of you roll initiative, I guess.”

The game rolled on from there. Luckily, Newt thought on his feet quickly enough to stop the barroom brawl between what would be the party’s two healers before either of them killed the other. Anathema reflected that it was actually quite good Crowley had started off with that, because it lightened the mood considerably and made everyone feel more comfortable with the game. Not that she would ever tell him that.

Gradually, Newt managed to coax Marion’s character into talking to the NPC he needed them to in order to get their quest, and they set out on a relatively straightforward mission to deliver a package to the neighboring town. Anathema quickly learned, however, that in Dungeons and Dragons, a straightforward quest usually leads to four hours’ worth of bickering, irrelevant tangents (“Aldriel wants to investigate the interesting rock formation you mentioned.” “But it’s on the other side of the woods -” “Yes?”), further attempts at pick-up lines, Crowley singing five absolutely terrible “songs” (discernable as songs only because the gameplay implied it, and a clear attempt at singing was made, without any actual success), Marion’s character also singing a song to her patron to try to gain an extra spell slot (she did get a point of inspiration, and Anathema rather suspected that it was because unlike Crowley, Marion was actually quite a nice singer), Anathema’s character getting attacked by a coyote for trying to follow Aldriel, an actual planned encounter with highway bandits, and, eventually, success at delivering the package, although it should be noted that this was only because Newt, having exhausted his reserves of patience, acceded that someone had probably remembered to pick the package back up after Tovi and Chastity threw it into a ditch to better loot the dead bodies of the bandits.

Later, Newt would tell her that all things considered, that was a very normal session, and it had gone well. She’d breathed a sigh of relief and then wondered what a chaotic session would look like. Probably best not to ask.

They had switched to wine halfway through, when the biscuits came out, and Marion was cradling her glass in both hands. “What fun, hm? We’ll have to do it again sometime. That is, if it’s alright with everyone.”

Newt shot Anathema a desperate look, and she shrugged. “I’d be in, but maybe not for at least a month. The holidays are coming up and everything, I’ll probably be visiting America.”

Marion nodded. “Oh yes, certainly. No, I definitely won’t have time until after the new year.”

“Yeah, definitely have to do it again.” Crowley elbowed Newt, who clutched his wineglass more tightly, in a protective stance. “Great idea, Newt.”

Anathema didn’t miss the subtext to Aziraphale’s question of “Do you think we’ll use the same characters again?”

Newt considered it. “I guess it’s up to you all. You’re still low enough in level that I can write a scenario either way, and we can do whatever everybody would prefer.”

“I’d like to play Brandeen some more, at least while I get comfortable with the game,” said Marion. She took a sip of wine, and then looked at her watch. “Oh, look how late it is! Pep was expecting me half an hour ago.” She downed the rest of the wine and looked outside. “Still miserable outside as well.” She stood and shook hands around the table while they said goodbyes, exchanged a hug and a kiss on each cheek with Anathema, and then waved, for good measure. “Lovely meeting you. You said you live in South Downs?”

Aziraphale nodded. “Right along the coast, yes.”

“Well, drive safely. And thank you both,” she said, turning to Anathema and Newt, “for the hospitality. It really was very lovely.”

“Let me get your coat.” Newt followed her to the door, leaving Anathema alone with the pair of supernatural entities, who were debating the quality of the wine Aziraphale had brought. When they heard Marion exchange her final goodbyes with Newt, and the front door closed, Aziraphale turned to Crowley.

“Really? A demon who was kicked out of town for being annoying? And where did you learn those dreadful pick-up lines?”

Crowley laughed. “Play what you know, angel. Anyway, not like you really mixed it up with the whole holy warrior bit. At least I was a bard.”

“Yes, we’ll address that later, possibly on the drive home.” He looked to Anathema, trying to be apologetic while simultaneously trying not to laugh. “I’m so sorry, Anathema, you really can’t take him anywhere.”

She chuckled. “You’re always welcome here. Both of you. If you want to stay, I was going to make spaghetti for Newt and I tonight, and there’s more than enough …” She trailed off, and looked to the kitchen. “There’s still half a bottle of wine in there.”

“We’d hate to impose,” said Aziraphale. “You’re certainly welcome to the wine. It’s the least we can do for the lovely afternoon.”

“Seriously, don’t worry about it.” She moved to the kitchen, picked up the wine, and topped both glasses off. The bottle did not feel any lighter afterwards. “Stay awhile, wait to see if the weather clears up. They way it’s been raining people’ll be hydroplaning and who knows what.”

“Half the fun of driving in the rain,” Crowley suggested, earning him a disapproving look from Aziraphale. He sighed. “Listen, you don’t have to invite me twice - the less I have to go out in this weather the better.”

“If you’re very sure, Anathema.”

“I am very sure.” She sat down on the couch and nursed her wine a little as Newt came back in. “They’re staying for dinner.”

“Oh. Okay.” He scooped his own glass up from the table before joining her on the couch. “Should I get it started then?”

“Not just yet.” She elbowed him in the side, gently. “So that was fun. How about you, dungeon master? Did you have fun?”

“I …” he thought about it. “Yeah, I did. I have a lot more respect for Martin, too. He was the dungeon master when I learned to play,” he added, for Crowley and Aziraphale’s benefit.

“Is it really called a dungeon master?” Crowley asked, raising an eyebrow. “Sounds kinky.” Anathema snorted.

“Or game master,” Newt said, hurriedly.

“Eh, slightly better. Not much.”

“Would you want to do it again?” Anathema asked. “Like, be in charge again? I’m sure it wouldn’t be as good but if you want a break, someone else could take the reins next time. We could trade it around, even.”

Newt waved a hand. “No, no I’ll do it again. I kind of have an idea for a longer story, if everyone is willing and able to do more than one session at a time.”

Aziraphale looked to Crowley. “We don’t have anywhere to be in the near future that can’t be re-scheduled. I’d like to hear the story out, as well.” He tilted his glass to Newt. “You ought to write a book, you know, you’re very good.”

“Oh. Oh, uh. Thanks,” Newt mumbled, suddenly studying his wine very closely indeed, a red flush overtaking his ears and cheeks. “That’s … that means a lot, coming from you.”

Crowley scoffed. “No it doesn’t, just because he reads every waking minute doesn’t negate that he’s a being of eternal love and light and goodwill and whatever. He’s always nice.” Newt blinked at the demon, who, at length, shrugged. “I’ve heard worse stories.”

“Crowley,” the angel admonished.

“Fine, I’ll go so far as to say you’re alright even, but you’re on thin ice, Pulsifer.” Newt blushed again - on the Crowley scale that was probably a solid 7/10 rating at least. The demon swallowed a gulp of wine. “Still, I’ll hear you out for another round. We’ll see.”

“It’ll need more work, first. I’ve only just got a rough idea.”

Anathema shrugged, and leaned into him. “You have at least a month. Probably more, the way scheduling always works. You can take your time.” She smiled. “And, you know, maybe a rough outline is okay, since you never know what everyone’s going to do.”

“That’s my motto,” said Crowley. “Set up the big picture and after that just wing it. Er, in a manner of speaking, anyway.”

Newt considered it. “I was thinking … for authenticity, it might help if some of the characters actually spoke another language? Is there really like, a real-life^ equivalent of Infernal?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Could you -”

Aziraphale was already shaking his head ‘no’ when Crowley answered. “Not unless you fancy bleeding out of all your orifices and throwing up maggots, no, I can’t.” He brightened up. “I do speak Russian though, is that different enough? 98% less chance of cursing you to eternal damnation.”

Newt nodded. “That’s fine.” His eyes narrowed. “Why only 98%?” Aziraphale was studying Crowley too, a faint smile on his lips.

“Yes, dear, that sounds like you have … experience.”

Crowley looked offended. “Not me personally, no. Not my style. Ages ago, though, Hastur -”

“Ah, Hastur. That explains it.”

“Right, it’s actually kind of a funny story, mostly because Hastur looked like an idiot at the end …”

And so it went, past the time Anathema decided to finally make the spaghetti and found a pot of water miraculously on the stove and boiling, next to a saucepan of what smelled like an absolutely amazing Bolognese sauce, past the meal itself and the subsequent cleanup, and well into the night. The wine bottle did eventually get lighter - eventually - after Newt fell asleep with his head on her shoulder. Aziraphale finished it off, while Crowley sobered up - she still wasn’t used to that - and they stood. “Don’t get up.” Aziraphale waved a hand in her direction as he collected the notebooks, dice, and biscuit plate. “We can find our way to the front door, my dear, I promise.” He wobbled a little. Crowley sighed.

“I can, anyway. Come on, angel.” He slid his arm around Azirphale’s waist, half supporting him and half guiding him, and spared a wave. “Thanks again. Text when you want to do it again.”

“We will.” She blinked, suddenly sleepy, the soft cotton-candy of sweet dreams induced by good red wine already drifting in at the edges of her thinking+. “Hey, sorry, uh, would you mind getting the lights on your way out?”

There was a click of a switch and darkness, followed the distinct sound of Aziraphale stumbling over the mat in the front hall and Crowley catching him. Then the front door, opening, closing, locking (she’d never given them they key, but then again, why bother?). She listened, or tried to stay awake to listen anyway, for the grumble of the Bentley as it pulled out into the night, but she was already asleep against Newt, her fingers laced through his.

* Actual psychic readings - Madame Tracy wished she had been as good as Anathema. Never mind that the bulk of Anathema’s clients were people who wanted to speak with their pets, rather than their relatives.

** Which Crowley and Aziraphale were still skirting, although neither of them would admit it. At least they were finally admitting they were ‘more than best friends’. “Probably even super best friends,” Crowley had told her about a year ago, as he passed her a fatty spliffer.

*** “What if they take it too seriously? What if there’s actual flaming swords again? What if I have to kill Crowley’s character and he banishes me to The Pit?” to which she had responded, “He’s not on speaking terms with Hell anymore, Newt, I doubt he would do much more than curse you or burn Dick Turpin up with Hellfire.” It was a bit mean, but the wailing it had prompted was choice entertainment.

^ Anathema had to consider the gravity of that statement give all they’ve learned in the past 2 years, as well as what it said about her and Newt that neither of them questioned it.

+ The hangover would not be terrible, either, she knew, which made it even better. Not that the wine was so good that you couldn’t get hungover off of it, but, well, she’d been drinking with the angel for a while now. She had in inkling of how it would go.

#good omens #aziraphale #crowley #anathema device #newton pulsifer #dungeons and dragons #i wish i didn't enjoy fanfiction so much #good omens fanfiction

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lightsandlostbells · 5 years

Text

Druck season 2, episode 4 reaction

I want to thank turtleneck boy because I truly miss the fandom running wild with every detail and coming up with theories, I mean that sincerely. God bless you, sweater man.

Episode 4

Clip 1 - Motto selection

We have the graduating class looking at mottos. Amira and Leonie are leading the meeting. Leonie sure likes to lead school activities. We also have Mia, Hanna, Jonas, and Matteo in attendance. I really like seeing more school activities, especially since the hero party thing wrapped up last season, and this seems like a particularly German tradition from what I can tell, so it’s a cool thing to include.

Jonas is wearing a fedora today and like, he’s rocking it and twirling it around and stuff, but baby, you gotta be aware of the implications.

They’re picking out a motto, but as Leonie emphasizes with finger quotes, these are “the best” and Amira says none of them are great. “Photoshop-Philipp” put together some examples of the logos. His name is Markus. He’s the theater kid from the first season, with his hair tied back and I never would have recognized him if fandom hadn’t pointed him out.

That dude in the black turtleneck sent us all into conspiracy mode. Initially he was giving me German Even vibes, too. Was this their version of kosegruppa? He smiles when Matteo starts laughing at Photoshop Philipp, and his body language is angled toward Matteo, kinda, could that be a clue??? Why would they give us a random close-up of that guy when Jonas starts talking about CannABIs, when he doesn’t have a line at that moment or anything? Why was he tying his shoe for so long? Surely Druck is trying to tell us something!

Yet apparently it has been confirmed that he is not German Even, but is some random extra who’s been popping up in school scenes. That was a fun few days of speculation, though.

When the cannabis-themed logo pops up, Jonas says that there are some students in this school who are critical of the dangers of smoking weed, and he’s definitely directing that toward Hanna (he looks at her at the end, and Hanna looks over her shoulders and rolls her eyes). Nice bit of passive-aggressiveness there.

Another one is a parody of the alt-right Germany party (AFD) logo. Jonas likes that direction. Some random girl doesn’t like it and doesn’t want to give more attention to the party, but Amira and Mia think it’s funny. You know, kinda cool that these random students are getting a voice this season - like in the classroom debate, or the discussion here. It’s not just the main characters having all the dialogue in these scenes, it makes it feel a little more like an actual school, if that makes sense. (ETA: @randomfinny and @hyperfictional pointed out that she’s actually German Sara. Lol, I never would have recognized her, so thank you!)

I laughed at Jonas and Matteo being lazy in the back of the class. and them both putting their heads down. They’re in sync!

Suddenly there’s Axel walking in! Good thing Kiki isn’t part of this meeting. Did he join just to hang out with Mia?

I will say this, I am not complimentary toward Alex, but we’ve seen more of a personality from him thus far than with William, imo. He’s been shown to have some political opinions, and this shows a little bit of creativity/initiative on his part. He seems pretty pleased with his design/logo. He thinks it’s pretty gangster.

His logo is Abi Chaker Clan 2019, which is a reference to a family in Berlin with ties to organized crime? It doesn’t mean much to me as a non-German, but I’m going to take that it’s clever. Most of the group seems to like it. Jonas and Matteo approve. Markus doesn’t understand it. He’s like the only one other than Mia who’s not on board, lol. They take a vote, everyone puts their hands up except Mia. Hanna tells her that it’s better than others, so Mia reluctantly raises her hand. Even when she does so, she’s pointedly looking away from Alex.

As they leave, Jonas sticks his fedora on Matteo’s head. Be still my heart.

They’re going to have another meeting on Friday, Alex offers his place. Mia isn’t gonna be happy about that!

I will say this, this is what I wanted for Noorhelm remakes - give them something to work on that isn’t them dating, like a school project or whatever. Although now I’m like … they could have started with this stuff, the graduation committee, and not gotten into the whole renewed Kiki/Alex angle which makes this all messier and more complicated and harder to be on team Alex or team Winterberg. And I get that’s probably what they were going for, throwing more obstacles into the story so Mia still has doubts about being with Alex, but it also means I need that I need certain aspects addressed before I can fully get on board with this ship, and I’m afraid they won’t do that. Or I’m afraid that Mia’s flaws will be addressed but Alex’s will be excused.

That being said, I’m on team Amira with the decision to let Alex into the group. Sometimes you have to put personal feelings aside, and Alex’s involvement will benefit everyone else in the class by making the yearbooks cheaper. And tbh I don’t think it’s right to exclude someone from participating in a school group like this unless they’re actively disrupting the group itself, regardless of how much that person may have wronged me or my friends romantically.

When Mia starts to argue, Amira says that she knows the cost isn’t a big deal to Mia and some others, but other students came to her and said they couldn’t afford it. I wonder if Kiki was one of them… she probably wouldn’t tell that to Amira, though. Not in those words.

This isn’t Amira’s big secret, though, is it? Like Pawel isn’t some dude at the printing company, and she was just trying to keep it under wraps so Mia didn’t find out? I feel like her secret has to be bigger and more personal than that.

The question is, did Alex do this to get on Mia’s good side or to hang out with her? Or is he trying to engage and do something nice without expectations? Because I respect that second one more, obviously.

Amira is so lovely, I truly hope we get her season.

Clip 2 - Alex is hyped for Game of Thrones to return

Mia runs into Alex. She says they need to talk. He smirks and says, “Winter is coming,” and GOD FUCKING DAMMIT that made me laugh out loud. It’s so obvious but I laughed.

You know, Mia looks a tiny bit like Daenerys Targaryen.

There’s a shot of them walking down the path thing with the divider in the middle, oooo, ~symbolic. They meet at the end.

Mia tells him to stop grinning, and he says yes, sergeant Winter, and salutes. FUCK OFF that’s the second time I’ve laughed in this clip at this dude. I hate myself.

She chews him out for becoming a “committing patron” and he’s all “??? I wanted to help??” And I will give this to him, he did actually help out the group regardless of intentions, so maybe let that one slide, Mia, in the spirit of utilitarianism. Then she mentions NYE and the midnight voice message, which he does deserve to be chewed out for.

SOMEONE IS WATCHING THEM. It’s Sam??? Oh shit, she saw them talking! Hopefully she assumes Mia is just yelling at Alex. But she’s going to know Mia and Alex are in cahoots. Will she end up using this against Mia, or will she go to Mia and offer her support when Mia feels like she can’t tell anyone what’s happening?

Clip 3 - Ironing soothes the soul

Mia checks her phone and sees a bunch of messages from people praising Alex’s motto and hyping him up as the man. She gets off the bed, puts on a Chopin record and we are treated to a slow-montage scene of Mia ironing her clothes, including stuff like pajamas and socks, things that do not really need to be ironed if you asked me.

But I like the purpose of this scene! Mia feels out of control and frustrated and helpless with Alex’s inclusion in the group and everybody praising him and talking him up, and on top of it she doesn’t feel in control of her own feelings, so she has this ritual where she puts on music and makes her clothes neat and orderly. She uses order as a coping mechanism. Even the way this is shot makes it feel very precise and serene, the way she goes about this ritual so calmly, the way she smooths down her ironed items, the way the camera moves upward at the end, like all Mia’s anxieties are just floating away. You can just sink into this moment and realize how Mia clears her head.

Also that it’s classical music - something that also feels very orderly. And as we learn later in the episode, Mia can play piano including classical pieces so perhaps she has a strong history with it.

This was something indicated with Noora - for example, she was throwing out and getting rid of stuff once William had left her, and tidying up her room before she was supposed to meet with William prior to him going to London. She was thrown out of balance when Eskild ate her fish cakes. So I like that they’re going into it with Mia, and as others have mentioned it might be another sign of Mia’s ED. (Perfectionism is a common trait in people with eating disorders, and excessive tidiness/need for order is a sign of perfectionism).

Ironing complete, Mia searches for Alexander Hardenberg online. She considers following Alex on IG - too far, girl, he’s gonna take that as a marriage proposal.

Mia’s phone background includes Hans, awww.

She finds various links including one talking about his sister Sophie, who was two years older than he was. There are theories that Sophie will take over the Niko role, but I don’t buy that. For one, Alexander got very defensive over people talking about his “sister” in the classroom debate, and I don’t think he’d care if his sister was a creep. Second, it would be in EXTREMELY poor taste to have the biggest wlw rep on this show be a woman preying on and assaulting another woman, especially as a counter to Mia and Alex’s heterosexual relationship that’s probably going to be True Love. Just. The worst. I wrote this speculation post, but I think Sophie’s probably dead or something bad happened to her. Björn is some dude who was involved in what happened to her.

I don’t know what song this is as Mia is falling into the Alex Hardenberg rabbit hole, but it sounds like classical to me, and it’s like her coping mechanism/mental safe space is getting conflated with this guy.

Hans bursts into the room saying the Mia needs to look at his dick, because he thinks he has an STD, specifically tripper (gonorrhea) and he needs her to compare with some picture online. OK, I have to say, I have never ever heard that term for gonorrhea before. I’ve only heard it called the clap. Did Druck just teach me something? Yes, it did.

I have to praise Milena’s reactions here, they are restrained but suitably horrified.

Hans exposes his junk to Mia and she notes that yeah, it looks similar to the picture. He storms out and yells his fury to the heavens. When Mia asks if she should go to the pharmacy for him, he says he needs a chamomile tea first. LMAO. I feel like it was implied Mia would make the tea, right?

Clip 4 - Dingalings

Matteo’s just hanging with the girls as they talk about Hans’ clap, I guess. This child is not in a good state. He doesn’t seem very engaged in this conversation, but then again … would you want to hear about someone’s gonorrhea?

The girls are like HERE LOOK AT THESE GONORRHEA PICS and Matteo is just sitting there shooting them looks of WTF.

Sam calls it a “dingaling”. It’s nice to know she uses the same euphemism as my mom. She wants to know what a “gay penis” looks like, compared to a straight penis, I guess. Babe, you can go onto the Internet and find that out with a few clicks.

I laughed again at Matteo giving this side-eye to the girls while he looks at something on his phone. Or him nervously looking at them while they talk about what gay penis looks like.

Matteo picks up a banana as Sam asks about his dingaling. Druck going for that subtle symbolism, I see.

Sam asks Matteo how he measures dingalings, and he’s like, “...what?” There’s a nice moment where Hanna and Mia react and Mia tries to change the subject and divert attention from Matteo, in case this gets into uncomfortable territory for him. I liked that! Different from Eva and Noora having a fun time with Isak’s mysterious sexuality.

However, Sam really wants to know. Matteo mumbles that you do it with a ruler and Sam immediately gets out that ruler like she’s prepared to put this into practice. Not at the table, darling. Matteo isn’t even looking at them as he explains the rest.

Sam writes down “only when it’s hard” and underlines it, like she’s taking notes and this will be on the final exam for Dingalings 101.

Matteo sees Jonas walk in, and Matteo waves him over, probably thinking OH GOD SAVE ME, but Jonas just backtracks out of the room. NOOOOOO. I saw people think he was mad at Matteo, but I thought he was trying to avoid Hanna, which was confirmed in a text. If he and Matteo had a tiff, Matteo probably wouldn’t be waving him over so chill, unless he didn’t know Jonas was mad at him.

Matteo is not even looking at Hanna when she asks if Jonas has someone, just at his phone. What is he so engrossed with on his phone? Is it something specific or just generic sad teenage disengagement? Is it just him being one of The Youths?

Matteo waited until Sam left to tell Hanna that Jonas waits for her to post stuff on IG, IDK if there was a reason he waited. And there wasn’t any real reason Sam had to get up and leave during this scene, so is it at all important? Unless they just wanted the three sadsacks at the table together for the end of this clip, and Sam is not sufficiently angsty about her love life right now.

But Matteo tells Hanna that Jonas doesn’t have a new girl, he waits around for her to post new IG stories. Hanna is confused why, and Matteo is like, why does someone spend an entire evening stalking someone? Ohhh, damn. Mia is gonna feel that comment resonate uncomfortably.

Also, nice of Matteo to help out Hanna and Jonas’ relationship instead of snaking on her. As far as we know. (I think he’s being nice, not a snake this time.)

In case we didn’t get the connection, Axel texts Mia if she prefers wine or beer, for the yearbook meeting tomorrow, I guess. Checking in to see what she likes, her preferences.

We see Mia, Matteo, and Hanna at the table, all of them a little out of sorts. Mia thinking about Axel, Hanna thinking about Jonas, Matteo thinking about … something ... or someone … dude is very busy on his phone.

Clip 5 - After party at Axel’s

Mia brushes her teeth before going over to Alex’s - I guess that’s supposed to be her showing interest in him? A sign that she wants to be at her best? Or, you know, a sign that she practices good oral hygiene.

Hanna texts her and hopes she’s coming soon, because Hanna doesn’t want to be there alone because of Jonas. Damn, kids, you’re really tearing my heart out about this. Get back together already!

Axel texts Mia that she doesn’t need to bring a toothbrush because he has a new one ready for her. Well, that’s rather presumptuous. Mia seems a little amused, though.

She locks herself out of the apartment and texts Hans about it. Hans will be back at midnight to let Mia in. Also the tripper situation is still causing him pain and he stole money from his sick aunt to pay for medicine? Hans is so much more of a mess than Eskild was, like he’s going to have to evolve fast if he’s going to adopt Matteo.

This next part is beautiful, as we cut between Mia getting on the bus and traveling to Alex’s house, and shots of the characters looking into the camera as someone reads the comments about them. Isn’t this kinda like those character descriptions from pre-season? That promo stuff? So maybe it wasn’t just for promo, but an overall theme of the season, about the labels we stick on people or the shallow ways we perceive them.

Hanna - Gets bitch, red devil, arrogant. Who called Hanna a bitch?? Red devil?? Get the fuck out. Ex-BFF is from Leonie. Someone calls Hanna the “best decision of my life” and I think that was probably Jonas, please take that dagger out of my heart, oh my God.

Amira - Gets “hijab” like 8 times. So sad that this is all people know about her or think about her. They see the hijab and think that’s the sum total of who she is, rather than part of it. And it’s also othering, because the hijab stands out, it’s different from everyone else. I feel like Amira is used to it, too, like she probably expected that response. She also gets called ISIS. Man, fuck that edgy piece of shit person who wrote that. At least she gets some other comments like how she’s cool, like the people who actually know her and don’t stereotype her or judge her think she’s the best.

Matteo - Basically he’s a chill bro and fades into the background, although one person thinks he’s a good kisser. Hmmm, has he been going around smooching girls like Isak did?

Alex - gets almost all negative comments about how arrogant or jerkish he is, or his car compensating for his lack of dong size, except for some comments about how he’s hot. Look, if you want me to feel sorry about that, how people are just judging him unfairly, you’ve gotta show me more proof that he hasn’t been a major asshole throughout his high school career and this isn’t an accurate assessment of how he’s treated people or behaved this whole time, even if he’s supposed to be a nice guy underneath.

Mia - gets lots of comments on how hot she is, with some about her feminism or being boring. Habibi comes from Amira. Lesbian? Final one is “prettiest woman on earth” which probably was from Alex, honestly, and she seems kinda OK hearing him read that one out loud. (Although my kingdom for those “lesbian?” and “prettiest woman on earth” comments to have both come from like, Kiki.)

Matteo is once again lying on the couch on his phone, checked out. Someone send that kid an Even to bring him to life.

They talk about whether everyone should be able to cross out comments and that they don’t have time to chase everyone down, but I agree with Mia that everyone should be able to censor theirs, not just the committee. Alex agrees with Mia and gives a sensible option, that people have two weeks to contact the staff if they want to censor their comments. He says he doesn’t want to censor his comments because in twenty years he wants to remember what an arrogant ass he was, and everyone laughs, and you can take that as a sign of character growth that he wants to evolve past being an ass, or him thinking it was a fun time rather than something he regrets.

There’s turtleneck boy again. Who isn’t Even, but maybe could be German Julian Dahl.

Alex ordered pizza and beer, and the meeting gets more like a party. Hanna and Matteo throw pizza at each other and Hanna gives him the finger, cute! Alex arm wrestles Markus the theater photoshop kid. All throughout the evening, Mia seems attuned to Alex’s presence and keeps looking his way. I know that kind of feeling, I’ve been to parties where I was Mia and someone’s presence was like a magnet.

Hanna and Matteo talk in the kitchen about Jonas. Hanna asks where Jonas is, seeing as he’s not at the meeting, and Matteo says he doesn’t know, Jonas wanted to come. Which is a lie seeing as Jonas told Matteo he wasn’t going in a text message that we saw. At least Matteo is trying to spare Hanna’s feelings.

Mia is in Alex’s bathroom, looking at the stuff on the counter. I guess she’s just inspecting his stuff? She opens a jar and it’s overflowing with condoms, lol. I guess Alex got over his “latex allergy” at some point or learned his lesson about not wrapping it up. Maybe he had his own adventure with tripper. (I’m imagining him in his own version of the scene with Hans, wailing and opening his robe to a befuddled Toilet Sam.)

Hans texts her that now he won’t be home until 1. When Mia comes out of the bathroom, everyone else is leaving. Now Mia’s first option is that she could totally leave with her friends and chill with them, and if she’s locked out, she could crash at Hanna’s. But Amira has to study, Leonie has a date, and Hanna is going to the cinema with her dad. (What if Hanna was going to Jonas’ instead ... no, I won’t get entertain that happy delusion.) Anyway, Hanna suggests that Mia just kill time at Alex’s until she can go home.

Mia and Alex look at each other across the room. There is some nice nonverbal tension. The toilet flushes and Markus comes out of the bathroom. Now there are three of them, I like this shot of them in a triangle. Lol, Markus is so drunk he doesn’t know if he puked on himself. He doesn’t know how he broke up the Mia/Alex staring contest.

Alex and Mia look at each other and laugh after Markus leaves, which is a genuinely nice moment. Mia explains her situation and says she’ll go to the cinema or hang out in the park until then. Alex says she could stay and he’ll drive her home later. There’s a funny bit where Mia says he’s not allowed to drive, and Alex says he’ll call his chauffeur, and then does an imitation of Mia’s inner monologue - “Is he that rich? No … or maybe he is?” I do like that they’ve given Alex so much more of a sense of humor.

Lmao, Alex jumping on the random skateboard and gliding across the floor, I have to say if I lived in a big empty place like that, I’d be doing shit like that a lot. Speaking of, that is one big, spacious apartment, like there’s some art on the walls and stuff but it still gives off that cold lonely rich kid vibe.

I like Mia walking around examining the place as he makes her rosehip tea. Alex mentions that his sister used to live here - again, we don’t get more details than that, like whether she moved or died, what happened to her. It seems like he might have cut off that line of inquiry when he asks Mia if she wants honey in her tea - either a coincidence or a deliberate attempt to change the subject.

However, that does throw into context Björn’s appearance in the next clip, because Björn was showing up to the sister’s old apartment. Why was he messing around in there? I think that dude might be the sister’s boyfriend or ex.

There’s a piano. In that same room are a lot of moving boxes; either because Alex was moving in, or because the sister was moving out. Or maybe they were packing up Sophie’s things because she died?

Mia asks him whether he plays or whether it’s there to impress girls. Alex says no, so I’m betting it was the sister’s piano. He also asked whether they should go sit in the other room to drink the tea, I think that he didn’t want to answer questions about the piano or be near it, like it probably reminds him of whatever happened to the sister.

Gold star to Mia for not playing without payment and for not negotiating. I love her.

Was that the theme music from Titanic she was playing and acting like she was really into?? Lmao.

Finally, she plays something legit, “Montagues and Capulets” (or “Dance of the Knights”) from the ballet Romeo and Juliet by Prokofiev. HMMM could there be any connection to star-crossed lovers with this subject matter? Hey, it’s subtler than a banana.

At first I was wondering why her playing seemed out of sync and was like ... did they get a body double to play for her or something? Because I think Milena can really play. But then we see that it’s intentionally out of sync, as we see them eating and talking over the music. Perhaps to symbolize things being out of sorts; earlier this clip we had Mia using classical music as a way to restore order in her life, and here that order is rapidly dissolving, so the music isn’t really soothing, and the images aren’t neatly in line with it.

When Alex asks what song that was, Mia says it’s Drake. L M A O I adore her.

Hans texts Mia that he’s not coming home tonight as he’s met some other dude with gonorrhea and they’re going to hook up. Er, have fun with that, Mr. Currently Peeing Shards of Glass. Anyway, he asks if she can stay at Hanna’s. Alex says Mia can just stay there, she can take the bed and he’ll take the sleeping mat. Mia asks why doesn’t he just sleep on the couch and he says the fridge is too loud. We are treated to the sounds of the thunderous fridge. Actually, it is pretty loud for a fridge, if you’re sensitive to that kind of thing I can see it being a problem.

He says she can rent his bed for the night, like in a hotel. Which is what seems to convince her, him framing it not like a benevolent gesture but a transaction. So Alexander sets up the bed for Mia. He gives the new toothbrush that he had mentioned, and she pays him back what he gave her.

Mia climbs into bed and smells the fresh linen. She checks her phone and Hans says that Emilio finished fast so he’s coming home, and Hanna says Mia can come over. But Mia pulls an Isak, telling Hanna that Hans is home and Hans that she’s with Hanna. Wow, there is no chance of that backfiring, not with these two people who appear to be on friendly terms.

They don’t share a bed as Noorhelm did; true to his word, Alex sleeps on the floor, and she gets the bed. I think that’s indicative of where they’re at with each other right now; they still have distance between them, but they’ve developed a state of comfort and can let down their guard to a degree.

They wish each other good night, and she calls him Axel. That makes him smile. And then he asks that that wasn’t really Drake, was it? Which makes her smile. Let him go to his grave thinking it was Drake, Mia.

Social Media/General Comments

I’ll say this, Chris Veres is doing well as Alex, performance-wise. Previously he was my least favorite William, and I thought he was very flat in S1, which I guess was intentional, since I heard he tried to play Alex as very cold and unfeeling. Now we’ve seen him showing more personality and especially glimpses of humor and levity. So regardless on my thoughts of the character overall, I think the actor is doing a fine job.

A lot of people seem to have hopped on board with Alex after this episode, even people who hated William, and I think that largely has to do with the performance. I’m not sure I would say I’m completely on board with Alex as a character - he still has a lot of stuff to account for, and there are things that I really need Druck to redeem about him in order for me to like him. I especially need apologies - or at least some sense of regret and humility over his specific mistakes, rather than him trying to defend himself and Mia falling for it. But I get why fandom is starting to like him, he’s showing more charisma here. There are things I certainly like about him compared to William, for instance that he seems to have more interests and opinions on things that don’t have to do with his love interest. He had some genuinely funny lines in this episode.

Also, I’ve said it before, but I wasn’t sold on Mia entirely in S1, but Milena Tscharntke is really winning me over this season. Mia feels like her own character, certainly one with traits in common as Noora, but also not a Noora clone.

Kiki was totally absent this episode, and I wonder if that was to lull us into forgetting the Kiki/Alex drama so we, like Mia, could start to fall for him. In putting Kiki aside for an episode, it’s kind of like we don’t have this reminder of what Alex and Mia have done to her, something that I’m sure will come crashing back and causing conflict in the next episode. It also makes you wonder what Kiki has been doing since we last saw her. How is she coping? Breaking more hearts?

The music needs to be used more sparingly. This episode had some good selections but basically it’s falling into a pattern that’s plagued some of the remakes, where the music always gets used the same way: a song at the start of the clip, a song at the end of it, so that it starts to lessen the impact of the music because we can predict when it will appear. I think it happens in some remakes, like Skam France or Druck, because they run some previews/production credits at the end, and they want music to go over it instead of silence. But last season I think they did have some clips that ended with silence over the credits, or things like Hanna sighing, or random banter, and that didn’t bother me, that helped to retain the atmosphere of the clip.

There’s a theory that S3 and/or S4 have been running in the background of this season, and while I can see evidence for that, I really hope it’s not the case. Especially after this last clip - I thought it was great, the pacing worked and there were some inspired directing choices, so imagine what we could get with Matteo or Amira’s seasons with that kind of style. It would work so well with one of the long Evak or Yousana clips, something like Mekke øl or The Best of Islam.

Mia is like, “Won’t we get in copyright trouble for this?” as a feeble attempt in the committee chat not to pick Alex’s motto, lol. Give her credit for fighting a losing battle to the end.

Hans had like three text messages about his clap. First he accuses a dude of infecting him with the clap, while the dude is like, nah, just went to the doctor yesterday, I’m good, and Hans is like … oops … embarrassing. Then he goes after the next dude he banged, who reciprocates his electronic shouting match. Finally messages Michi, who’s like, thank God, I thought you were breaking up with me again. Dude. Hans. I know you find Michi a bore, I guess, but some dude whose reaction to hearing he has the clap is “at least you didn’t break up with me” to the dude who gave it to him, is someone you might wanna hang on to. And not in a boomerang way, in a “this is a keeper” way.

Matteo and Jonas text and apparently Jonas planned to skip the yearbook meeting/party because of Hanna. So that’s probably why he ran away in the dingaling clip, because he saw Hanna there. I’m wondering if they’re going to get back together this season or if they’ll string us along for a few more.

According to Matteo’s IG stories, that was the first time Photoshop Philipp/Markus got drunk, and Matteo made sure to document the highs, followed by the inevitable lows.

I’m not German, so feel free to correct me if I missed anything.

If you got this far, thank you for reading!

#druck reactions #druck

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