Tumgik
#man i went through like 15 different versions of this before i finally settled on the posing
dariadraws · 2 years
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But then, apropos of nothing, Leorio asked, “D’you want to dance?”
Part of Kurapika descended into wordless screeching. Fortunately, the part that replied was not the one that melting down. “My idea of dancing, or yours?”
“Well, I was thinking mine,” Leorio huffed out, faux-annoyed. “But either works.”
Kurapika looked up at Leorio, at the way the sunset turned his skin to burnished gold and caught on the green and caramel in his eyes. He thought, this is a mistake. He thought, this is only going to make your decision harder.
He held out his hand. “Sure. We’ll try it your way.”
ok well i definitely thought this would take me much longer to finish and now i feel extra silly for not waiting to post the previous kurapika pic but i guess i just have to live with that. anyways once again this is from @thefledglingdm‘s glorious fic Light Of My Life, Pain In My Ass, which i read like a couple of months ago at this point and still it haunts me. it’s just so good.
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theravennest · 3 years
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Let’s Talk About Shang Chi...
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I just got back from seeing Shang Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings. I had a great time with it. Just a lovely experience.
The fights were dope. The music was rocking. The actors’ performances really sold me on everything. I loved all the Xianxia elements. Y’all know fantasy worlds are my JAM!
But it was the characters that really drew me in. Every one of them were pitch perfect for me. The final act got a little jumbled, imo, but the characters and their dynamics were so good that it was enough for me to completely forgive and overlook the somewhat messy final battle. 
The story had a lot of heart. It was so personal and so anchored in real emotions. I highkey fell in love with all the main characters. I love their journeys and their complex  and grounded relationships with each other. I really liked the movie’s examination of grief, loss, and pain and the lengths people will go to in the wake of being overwhelmed by those feelings.
Let’s dig into it! This is gonna be a whole discombobulated mess, I just know it. lmao
***Spoilers below the cut!***
I really felt for Shang Chi, Xialing, and Wenwu struggling to figure out how to be a family again after they were all broken in different ways by the loss of Mama Ying Li. And each one of them trying in their own way to heal from it, some to extremely destructive degrees. 
How Wenwu treated his kids after being consumed by grief and violence was so utterly messed up but in two completely different ways. 
He treated Xialing like she was anathema, like she was literally nothing. Even when they were older and she had grown into an adult, he barely spoke to her in the entirety of the movie, could hardly even look at her. Partially because she looked like her mom and he retreated utterly from the pain of that, and partially because he constantly underestimated her in favor of her brother. This, of course, seeded the resentful tension between Xialing and Shang Chi from the start.
I’m a real sucker for sibling dynamics, as you all know. They’re my favorite types of family-oriented stories. (Side note, I really love the way the MCU has dedicated several stories to sibling relationships. It’s like my favorite thing in the MCU as a whole.)
I completely ate up the harsh and tricky relationship between Xialing and Shang Chi. Shang Chi completely let her down when they were kids, for her POV. (Not really his fault, he was a scared and traumatized 15 year old. Totally understandable.) But there is something to be said about the fact that she was also a child. A child dealing with her mom’s death too AND her dad’s aloofness. Then she was utterly abandoned by her brother. It’s no wonder she never quite forgives him, even though they mostly team up in the movie. They still have a lot to work out between them.
I really loved that she took on leadership of the Ten Rings at the end. The moment Shang Chi said she was “dismantling” their dad’s empire, I knew what was up. Though, the softy in me does hope that eventually they can find true reconciliation between them. I’m excited to see what we’ll see from her in future movies as a potential enemy of Shang Chi. It’ll be really interesting to see how Shang Chi tackles having to go up against his little sister.
And Shang Chi!!! OMG! Let’s talk Shang Chi and Wenwu now. When Wenwu drop kicked him into the ground and started the blame game for Mama Ying Li’s death like bro!!! I was so heated. He was 7 years old. A whole baby! She died because your thousand years of violence and conquering shit finally came home to roost. 
But that one line when Wenwu said Shang Chi’s 7 year old self “just stood there and watched” while his mom was killed actually revealed so much about Wenwu’s character. (The cutting way Tony Leung, a literal legend, delivered that was masterful, btw.) 
I actually think that it was the first time Wenwu has ever verbalized that he blamed Shang Chi for Ying Li’s death. Like maybe he’s always felt that way and all this time he was partially punishing Shang Chi for what he thinks of as a failure to protect or help the woman who meant so much to them.
Like, yes, he was training Shang Chi to take his place with him in the Ten Rings as an assassin but maybe he also wanted Shang Chi to kill his mom’s murderer as penance for letting her die in the first place.
Of course, it’s clear to see that Wenwu was absolutely shifting his own feelings of conflicting guilt onto his kids. Guilt that his past as a warlord is what got her killed. But also guilt that he put down the Ten Rings in the first place when if he had stayed a warlord, this never would have happened. But also the bone deep knowledge that if he hadn’t put down the Rings, Ying Li might never have stayed with him and loved him in the first place.
When Shang Chi threw it back at him that Ying Li probably wouldn’t love the person Wenwu had returned to, Wenwu looked so shook up. Phew! Perfect emoting from Tony Leung in that moment.
Honestly, Wenwu was having a very tragic and confusing time of it in this movie. Which is probably how that creature from beyond was able to find a crack in his psychic defenses and lure him to the gate. I had a lot of empathy for him even though I disagree so much with what he did to his kids, emotionally.
I really respect the fact that the movie never lost that sense of compassion for all of their feelings including Wenwu. I also respect that the movie really gave them space to grieve not just the loss of Ying Li but also the resulting dissolution of their happy family.
It’s just too bad that Wenwu’s grief made him push his kids away instead of pulling them closer. He completely emotionally abandoned them. A thousand years of power and supremacy yet he was broken because he never in that time fully learned how to process his emotions in a healthier way and his kids paid the price. They could’ve leaned on each other and on the love they found with Ying Li to help them get through but alas that’s the tragedy of the movie. 
I really wanted somehow for Shang Chi to make it through to his dad before he went too far to come back again. I genuinely did not want to see Wenwu die at the end. I wanted him to live and see Shang Chi’s changing dynamic with his father continue. I wanted to see him finally acknowledge his daughter as his true heir and see her accomplishments (dark though they will likely become considering the “softer” version of her is the one that ran an illegal fight club in Macao lmao).
Though I am happy Shang Chi got through to him enough at the end for Wenwu to save Shang Chi’s life, willingly pass the rings onto his son, and somewhat accept his own death after a thousand years of life. That was such a poignant moment between them. And I wonder if in that instant, Wenwu had the thought that in dying he’d at least see Ying Li again.
(Side note: I really hope his soul and the souls of everyone that got eaten were freed when Shang Chi killed the monster. I really want them to be able to move on to the next phase of existence. I really hope they weren’t destroyed after being eaten. I want Wenwu to reunite with Ying Li even in the afterlife, gotdamnit! Sue me, I’m a romantic.)
Let’s talk Simu Liu’s performance here for one second. He was incredible throughout. I completely bought into this strange but so real feeling that while he has a lot of anger towards his father, so much hurt, he also felt a lot of heartache and love for who Shang Chi wanted him to be. And the strange desire to want to help a man who emotionally scarred him so badly.
Simu really brought both sides of Shang Chi’s journey to life. Like, he was tying to find his own path, reconcile with the mistakes he’s made in the past (his sister, killing his mom’s murderer), and facing up against his father’s ideals and expectations. But there was also a side of Shang Chi’s journey that was about finally understand both his sister and his father’s point of views, and of learning/embracing his mother’s history. 
That moment by the lake when he revealed to Katy that he had actually killed the man who killed his mother. Whew boy! The emotions were so poignant. Simu Liu played it like *chef’s kiss* beautiful.
Speaking of character choices, I really rate this decision to have him actually go through with the assassination. It puts Shang Chi in an interesting position emotionally and somewhat morally. Instead of having his breaking point be him unable to kill as his father wishes, it’s instead the feeling of guilt and shame that he actually did kill the man.
I wonder if he felt a sense of satisfaction before the disgust and shame settled in. Because Shang Chi literally watched his mom die, he probably initially wanted to help his father hunt down the man because of that bit of dark need for vengeance. Until he got it, and felt ashamed to fully face his mother’s memory afterwards.
I’m interested to see how future Shang Chi movies and Simu will dig into and unpack that little bit of darkness these events instilled in the character.
Let’s talk Ying Li for a second here. This woman was incredible. An incredible martial artist, for sure, a mystical guardian and warrior...but she was also just an incredible person in general. Mama Ying Li was so self-assured, so steadfast in her convictions. She struck me as someone who knows exactly what she wants and is never afraid to reach for it.
Fala Chen portrayed her with such grace, warmth, and strength of character. It was extremely easy to see why Wenwu fell in love with her. She met Wenwu, a literal thousand year old warlord, and through shear strength of character led him to put down his weapons and his empire to make a home with her.
This man threw away his entire shadow army of assassins, threw away his whole plan to literally demolish her village in the pursuit of power...in order to play Dance Dance Revolution with her and their kids. (The highlight of their romance and the family flashbacks, for me, tbh.) 
And I know it’s not necessarily...positive BUT there is something...hmmmm, crunchy in the fact that Ying Li so completely altered Wenwu’s life by simply loving him that when she died he was willing to raze the whole world to get her back, damn the consequences.
Trying to properly explore toxic and negative turns in previously loving family dynamics is such a difficult task to take on. I really liked the complexity of the Xu family. All the actors really sold the family side of things. It was an almost tangible thing how much you could see how the love they felt had turned bitter and painful over the years.
The final battle was epic and mind blowing (There was a fucking DRAGON flying around for gods’ sake!) but I do wish it had stayed a little more grounded for longer in the beginning of it when the Ten Rings were fighting the Ta Lo warriors. I wanted to see more of that fight before they had the turn to becoming temporary allies against the soul suckers. It became a little too much of a CGI mash, for me, in some parts of it.
Still, the emotional beats held and the core of the story of this grieving family trying to hold on to the tatters of their world stayed consistent even through the final battle. I can forgive a lot because of the strong sense of character and connection there.
Plus, it’s a comic book movie. Spectacle is the name of the game and at least this one had cool fantasy beasts and dope fight choreo. 
Anyway, I’ve rambled enough. Let’s wrap it up here. Suffice it to say, I had a wonderful time with this movie. I’m ready for the next one!
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the mad hatter — g. w. (chapter 4)
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Summary: Due to your direct relations with George Weasley, you were prohibited from leading the case anymore. But you were given a chance to interrogate him, and the tension between the married couple thickens. 
Words: 2,861 words
Warnings ⚠: TW murder, TW blood, TW injuries, angst, thriller, husband!george, sadistic!george, fem!reader, arguments, mentions of sadism
Disclaimer: hey yall <3 welcome back to another chapter of ‘syaf simping for sadistic george!’, I haven’t been able to be active in this site because of work, so I’m really sorry! I’m making it up for yall though, I have some fics ready in no time so wait for it! Reblogs and Comments are highly Appreciated! Enjoy!
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“... What do you mean?” Your voice was slow, yet it was menacing. “You heard me,” He said, sighing. “So you’re saying I can’t have this case anymore?” Your tone was quivering, trying your hardest to control your anger. The man in front of you, Remus Lupin is the A. D. A of the case. He’s going to be the one to put The Mad Hatter— no, George Weasley to jail.
But he’s pulling on your strings at the moment. Tightly.
“It’s inevitable, Y/N—” “Bullshit!” You slammed your hands on your desk, the pain of your palms didn’t sting, the adrenaline coursing through your veins were much stronger. You’re now breathing through your mouth, huffing slowly like a predator towards its prey. You’re angry, very angry. 
He’s telling you to back off from your own case. 
“You recommended me for this case to the higher ups. And now you want to take it back?” You scoffed, glaring at Remus with the deadliest look you can muster, “Who the fuck do you think you are?” 
“This is my case. I’ve spent a month of my time and my co-workers’ time investigating this prick,” You spat, huffing a cynical smile, “You have no right to take away this case from me.”
“As this case’s attorney, I actually do, in fact, have the right to take this case away from you, Weasley,” Remus spat out as venomously, “Need I remind you that prick is your own husband. You have direct relations to the suspect, therefore you are now ineligible to either investigate him or take any part of this case.”
You two were in your office at the headquarters, door closed shut yet everyone dares not to knock on the room containing two wolves. 
“I don’t bloody care that he’s my husband, he’s a mass murderer and should be treated as such, therefore your reasoning to kick me out of this case is utter bollocks!” 
“You’re a fucking witness now, Y/N! You’re his wife!” Remus finally matched the tone of your voice, the veins bulging on his neck showed the severe control he had on himself to not explode. He sighed heavily, slightly massaging his temples, “How do I make this clear so you can understand, Y/N,” He muttered loud enough for you to hear, before looking at you straight to the eye.
“You have feelings for your suspect. You married him for seven bloody years so don’t give me that bullshit that it doesn’t matter and you won’t get emotional in that room!” He shouted, hand flinging to the direction of the investigation room, where George was waiting. 
Patiently.
“You know this would happen the moment you put him in cuffs. You know already. What do you even want to ask him anyway?” Remus’s tone deflated as his shoulders dropped. You clenched your jaw, hard enough to feel the veins at your temple to bulge. Remus was right, what do you even want to ask him anyway? Why would he do this to you? Why would he lie to you? Why would he play you like this?
Does he even love you?
‘Get a grip on yourself, woman. He’s no longer your husband, he’s The Mad Hatter,’ the voice in your head sternly said, snapping you out from your train of thoughts. You took a deep breath, calming down your temper as you spoke, “I want to ask him why would he target former sexual assaulters, and record himself talking about them.”
Remus shrugged his eyebrows, “Good questions indeed, but what makes you think he’s going to tell you?” 
You huffed a smirk, “What makes you think he won’t? I’m his wife, like you said and the mother of his child. I have the leverage that he doesn’t,” You said, feeling your confidence coming back and your professionalism finally resurfacing after what seems like hours of self-wallowing of ‘where did it all go wrong?’
Remus mirrored your smirk, “He fooled you blind for 7 years. What makes you think he won’t try again for the next 30 minutes?” He questioned, and you nonchalantly shrugged with a lazy smile on your lips, “Guess you just have to sit back and watch me do my job.”
The smile on your lips vanished, your grim expression had slightly intimidated Remus, “Let me in that room, and I’ll get him to confess that he’s The Mad Hatter.”
---
He knew you would come.
George smiled as he watched you walk in the room with the case’s file. “I knew you would come,” he watched as you slightly froze at his voice, before a hard look settled on your face, “Yeah, well, I need answers.”
George painted a small smile on his lips, “I’ll try my best to answer you then, my love.” “Don’t call me that.”  He tilted his head  to you,not quiet catching what you said, “Hm?”
You couldn’t look at him in the eye before, but now you’re standing in front of him, hands placed on the glass table, your fiery gaze straight into his somber ones, “Don’t call me ‘my love’. Or Darling, or Love, or anything. You call me Chief Detective, you hear me?” Your voice was low and dangerous, yet George only smiled at your attempt of intimidating him.
“Now why should I do that?” He asked, and you gave him a cynical smile as you sat across him, “You have no reason not to.”
“Why, haven’t you changed,” George muttered slowly, a smile on his lips. You looked different, and he likes it. Not that he doesn’t like you before, but this version of you; it impressed him. 
It excites him.
“Listen, Weasley,” You leaned forward, glancing at the shackles that held George’s hand on the table, “You’re in my house now. So you better start talking before I force words out of that deceitful mouth,” You said slowly, looking at him straight in the eye, smirking in amusement at his lack of fear.
“How funny,” He leaned forward as well, slightly shaking his cuffed hands to hear the rattle of the iron, a playful smile on his lips, “Was I not in your house this whole entire time?” His smirk widened at the clenched jaw you did, amused at how easy he had you wrapped around his finger.
“Keep talking like that and I’ll have your tongue strangling your own neck,” You spat, leaning back on the chair to get away from him for a moment. The man in front of you isn’t the George you knew. It’s not the real George. Or, it is the real George, only he fooled you all this time.
Only thinking about it made your heart boil.
George chuckled coldly, his chuckles echoed through the room. “I’d love to see you try,” His voice was delightful, yet there was something poisonous about it as he smiled at you, “I want to share that thrill with my wife too.”
“The thrill of what?” You asked, and George chuckled again, “Now, my love, you know I’m not as gullible as you think I am to fall for that. Nice try, though,” he winked. You sighed, getting irritated by his play of words, “Let’s cut off the bullshit now, shall we? Let’s start the investigation.”
He shrugged, “I gave you my word. Let’s start then.”
You took a deep breath, closing your eyes. No matter what you do, you can’t help but to feel flutters in your heart when he smiles, or call you ‘my love’. The flutters felt like knives, though. 
“Lights out,” you suddenly said. George tilted his head, “What?” “Shut up, I wasn’t talking to you,” You quickly cut him, you faced the one way mirror, “Lights out.”
“You have 15 minutes before Lupin knows, so make it quick,” Zabini’s voice rang out from the speaker, and the lights went out. A while later, the emergency light was on, a red glow looms the entire room, giving the space an eerier vibe.
George looked at you curiously, “What is this, Y/N?” You sat silent. You hated it that you had to plan a secret mission with your team just to have time to talk to your husband. You need answers. No matter what.
So, it was no wonder that you looked up to him with your lips quivering and your eyes weak, “Why did you lie to me?” Baffled with your sudden change of demeanor, George furrowed his eyebrows, “Wha—” “I got Blaise to cut off the electricity here for a few minutes, so the surveillance camera won’t work,” You explained. 
“Not even Blaise can hear us, so tell me,” you looked at him again, “Why did you lie to me?” 
Watching the vulnerability in your expression, George’s smug facade faltered. He knew you like the back of his hand, you were telling the truth. Yet, George wasn’t stupid. He didn’t know how you act in your work, so he had to be cautious. He put up his wall again as he smirked, “But I didn’t. I didn’t lie about anything.”
His smirk washed off as you closed your eyes, “George, please…” He watched as you wiped away the tears welling in your eyes, this was the Y/N that he knew, the Y/N that he protected for the past 7 years from his truth.  
George clenched his jaw, “What do you even want me to say, Y/N?”  His voice now lacked the tinge of amusement, you realized he’s serious now. You looked at him, “What happened to you?”
“Whatever do you mean?” He said, and you gritted your teeth, “What happened to you, George? What caused you to be like this?” “This?” He repeated your words. He scoffed, “I’ve always been this, Y/N. I’m just good at hiding it from you and Rafa.”
“Don’t lie to me. You’ve been lying to me for 7 years straight, I deserve the truth,” You voiced out, and George shook his head, “No, you deserve to be away from me. The truth will only make you resent me more.”
“What fucking difference does it make now, George?! You lied to me! You hide yourself from me! Do you even love me?!” You were standing now, slamming your hands on the table. George clenched his jaw, fighting to stay silent. 
“Tell me the truth! Do you even love me?!”
“You want the truth? Here is my truth,” he snarled, “I am that sick bastard you always talk about. I am The Mad Hatter!” 
“Of course I fucking do!” He stood up abruptly, startling you. The handcuffs rattled more as he tried to yank his wrists away from the table. “If I don’t love you, then I would have drowned you that night we met! I wouldn’t have Rafael with you! I would have killed you!” His voice was loud and clear, yet his feelings inside couldn't exactly say the same thing.
George Weasley had lost control of his composure.
“No, no…” You muttered, shaking your head slowly, “But you’re an angel to me! You’re an angel to me and Rafa, George!” You said, desperation clinging onto your voice tightly. 
“If I am one,” He breathed heavily, “If I am an angel, then let me rip off my wings and break apart my halo because I have killed!” He shouted, “And I don’t fucking resent it! Not one fucking bit.”
You were silent in shock from his outburst, while George huffed heavily. His heart was racing with adrenaline, but he hated this one. He looked at you who was still in shock, “Is that what an angel is to you?” he asked cynically.
“Someone that kills for the thrill? If I wanted to, I would have killed you that day you walked into the shop, Y/N,” he said. “But I’d rather kill someone else then kill you and Rafa,” He continued with a small voice. You furrowed your eyebrows, “What?”
You snapped out from your state of shock and began to shake your head in confusion, “What the fuck are you talking about, George? You mean to tell me that you killed 7 people because you didn’t want to kill us?”
“Yes, Y/N, that’s exactly what I meant,” He spat, looking at you with a snarl, “Who do you think killed my whole family except Fred?” George started to laugh maniacally, “And I’ve only spared him all this time because he’s my twin brother and I need a partner for my business.”
“You… You killed your family?” You breathed out, horrified. George looked at you and smiled eerily, “Who else?” His expression grimmed. “I’ve always been this, Y/N. A monster; who craves for the thrill of the kill, and the stench of blood, and the screams of pain and burn. That’s who I am, that’s who I truly am.”
“... I never understood love. Not even when I married you. But when Rafa came along, he taught me what love is. He taught me how to love. And when I realized I love you both, I realized that I loved my family too. But in the end,” He chuckled again, “I killed them,” He whispered dreamily. 
There was a shadow of pain in his eyes, you could sense it. When he looked at you, you found the tenderness he always had in his eyes when he looked at you. For a moment, you wondered if he’s really saying the truth; about him being in love with you. Being in love with your family.
“You,” You watched him look away from you for a moment, pursing his lips, “You gave me a happy life. And I forgot what it’s like to kill. You made me into a new man,” He said slowly. There was silence for a while, it was only you and him, staring into each other. But something clicked inside him that caused him to look away. 
He continued in a cold voice, “But I remembered what I did to my family. I remembered how I felt. I loved it, no matter how much guilt weighed on me for years. I loved seeing their terrified faces when I killed them slowly one by one. Mum, Dad, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Ron and, and little Ginny. They’re in my dreams every single day after that, haunting me, taunting me to kill you and Rafa next. Because that’s who I am,” He slowly shook his head, “But I don’t want to.”
His head turned to you, “I don’t want to kill you. I don’t want to kill Rafa. If I ever do, I— I—” He scoffed, his eyes wandering around the table wildly, “I don’t know if I can forgive myself for it.”
“For killing us?”
“No, for enjoying it,” George confessed. You let out a shaky breath, trying your best to digest it right. Looking at you being quite shaken by the truth, George smiled to himself, “This is also why I didn’t want to tell you the truth.”
“What?”
“You’re looking at me like a monster,” He said softly, lips etching that gentle smile you always adored. He sat back down on his seat, his hands playing with the metallic chain that held him down. “I’m not saying that I’m not one, I just feel better when you look at me with love because I’m your husband, not a sick bastard who kills for fun.”
“It feels nice not to be a monster sometimes.” 
“George... “ You didn’t know what else to say, but his name. “T-then… Why did you target former sexual assaulters? A-and why would you record them?” You asked slowly.
George looked at you for a moment, blinked and he only smiled. That’s when you realized that he had put up his walls again. That George who had confessed his love to you, and had confessed his crimes to you was gone, this is The Mad Hatter now. 
“I told you the truth, I answered your questions. I gave you my word, didn’t I?” He spoke, as if nothing happened a few minutes ago. You took a deep breath to recollect yourself again. You felt confused, angry, scared, and everything else.
 But you’re also hurt.
“... But you did kill me, George.” Your words caused him to look up to you. You were looking down on your hands before standing up straight, sighing as you looked at him, “You hurt me, you lied to me, you deceived me, you played me like I’m no less than a rag doll. Even if you didn’t kill me physically, you killed me in there,” You pointed to his chest, slightly scoffing at the tears welling up your eyes.
And the lights went back up again. 
You took a deep breath, pretending everything was fine. “Nott and Zabini will interrogate you. I’m off the case because of you, so I hope you can work with them, and tell them what you just told me,” You said nonchalantly, forcing the lump on your throat to swallow itself back down. 
George chuckled, shaking his head, “Nah, I don’t think I will.” You furrowed your eyebrows, “What?”
At that moment, the door opened and someone came into the room, “This interrogation is over now that I'm here, please leave,” The man said coolly and you widened your eyes as you recognized him instantly as soon as he walked in the room, “...  Fred?”
“Ah, brilliant.”
The glint of mischief in his eyes had returned, and you realized that the two brothers in front of you are up to no good.
“My lawyer’s here.”
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TAGLIST:
@multifandom-but @sirenswhispers @lilac-skies-xd @obsessedunicorn24 @foggyturtleknightangel @evewithluv @softlyqoos @fandoms-pizza-wifi-ym13 @lilypad-55449 @fiantomartell @hopemalfoyweasley @just-here-to-escape-from-reality​ @bucketandpotato @klausdatprettyboi @adoregin @littlechillies @phuvioqhile @sweetnspicysimp @wand3ringr0s3 @harrypotter289 @emptyporsche @tallyovie @the-unmanaged-mischief @potters-heart @gcdricreads ​ @waffleweasley-deactivated202104 @amourtentiaa @lunalovecroft @freddie1978 @lupinsclassroom @breadqueen95 @iwritesiriusly @rcwenaclaw @sevsbitxh @freds-slut @acosmis-t @colorfulprofessornickelangel @vote4weasleys @anchoeritic @alluringshawn @cute-sidney @anna-banana-13 @lostaurorax @emrysts @rosietoesy @lilgeorgie78 @prismarts @an2402lths
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It Was You (Part One)
A/N: Jensen and Y/n are childhood best friends. When his agent informs him that his image could use some improvement for a role, will she help him? Or will her feelings get in the way?
A holiday (Christmas centric) Jensen x Female!Reader Best Friends to Lovers series for @spnchristmasbingo. Un-beta’d, so all mistakes are mine. Header created by me with images from Google. Chapter word count: 3371
Series Warnings: break up; angst-ish at times (if you squint), but mostly all the fluff.
I consider this an AU, as Jensen is single in this fic. This is completely a work of fiction, and I wouldn’t want his reality to be any different, this is purely for entertainment.
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The slight chill of a Vancouver December morning roused you from a peaceful sleep, making you snuggle further into the down blanket and comfort of your plush bedding. It was two weeks until Christmas and the weather was supposed to be a balmy high of 32 degrees today, so you had planned to stay in, do some shopping online, and stay by your cozy fireplace with every holiday movie you could find. Willing yourself to get five more minutes of shut eye seemed like a helpless feat as the wintry cold seeped into your apartment. You opened your eyes to the gentle prisms of light floating in through the adjacent window, the sunrise indicating it was time to get up for the day.
Sitting up to perch on the side of your bed and grabbing your wide-rimmed glasses from the nightstand, you slid your chilled toes into the warm slippers waiting and shrugged on your fuzziest sweater. It may be time for that fire sooner than you thought.
Padding into your kitchen to get a much-needed caffeine fix after last night’s dinner and drinks with the rest of the cast and crew, you took your favorite mug from the cabinet and loaded the coffee maker, making an extra cup or two for you and any visitors you might have a bit later.
Jensen’s apartment was down the hall, and if you knew him, he’d still be sleeping, but he’d probably wander over at some point this morning. Cradling the mug in your hands warmed them slightly and sent a shiver down your spine. Even your warmest pajamas and the heat from the thermostat did little against the Canadian winds. Laughing slightly to yourself, you’d thought you’d be used to it after six years of winters here.
You wandered towards the windows of your living room to pull back the long curtains. It was a favorite spot to have your coffee and gaze at the sights of Vancouver. Settling on the window seat, you felt a warmth spread through you as you noticed it had snowed in the night, and from the looks of it, it was a depth of fresh, soft powder – a type that you rarely saw growing up in Texas. People were bundled up tightly as they walked the streets, but a few people, adults and kids alike, were already out playing in the thick blanket of snow.
As your coffee began to warm you through, you couldn’t help the giddy feeling of joy that rose at the sight – it made the holiday season and the spirit of it even more intense than just viewing the lights of downtown and the large decorations everywhere. For some reason, snow just sealed it all up in a nice little bow.
Sure enough, about halfway into your second cup of coffee, you heard a key in your door and Jensen shuffled in, still wearing his pj’s with tousled hair, but he had thrown on a thick sweater too.
“Good morning.” You called, still seated at the large window.
“Mornin’ sweetheart.” He replied with a quick wave as he tossed his keys on the counter and waltzed into your kitchen in search of his mug, his voice still thick and gruff with sleep.
He mixed his cream and sugar and took a long sip, letting out a contented sigh after the steaming liquid entered his body. He was notoriously grumpy without his coffee, but he always met you with a sweet greeting when he came over. Walking around your kitchen island and into your open living room, he slumped into the recliner across from you and pulled the leaver to release the footing, allowing him to lean back with his feet up. He adjusted himself to get comfortable, careful to not spill the mug in his hand.
“What time did you get in last night?” you asked, taking another sip from your own cup.
He covered his eyes with his free hand, still obviously tired. “About 2:30. You know how Jared gets when we break for hiatus, he never wants the party to end. He was still talking to me as I was shutting my door.”
You couldn’t help but laugh. Jared was the most social person you’d ever met and knowing that he wouldn’t be back to Canada and on set for a month, he would always soak up every little bit of time he had with the cast and crew. Even though Jensen was griping about it now, you knew he also didn’t mind. He’d probably be missing everyone, especially Jared, about four days into the break. You didn’t get home until about 1 a.m., and that was only because you were beginning to doze off in your cocktail.
“Tell Cliff thanks again for driving me home last night. I just couldn’t cut it.”
“Yeah, I know… Lightweight.” Jensen teased.
“Hey, you didn’t have a 5 a.m. set call yesterday like some of us.”
Jensen huffed a small laugh from his seat, still resting his hand across his closed eyes. His sweatpants hung low on his hips and his green Henley stretched across his biceps as he rested his coffee on his thigh. A slight 5 o’clock shadow and the bedhead he was sporting all combined into a handsome image. He may be your best friend, but you could still appreciate the looks the man was blessed with.
Seemingly close to falling back asleep, you called to him in a hushed voice, “Jay. If you want to go back to sleep just put your coffee mug on the table, okay?”
“Hmmmph. No, I’m up.” He fibbed, as evident from the way he blinked widely once he opened his eyes again. Forcing himself to stand, otherwise he would really fall back asleep instead of just resting his eyes, he walked towards you with his cup, dragging his feet slightly as his legs sluggishly pulled him across the room. His head was down and his shoulders were wilted, but he was trying to get his body moving.
When he reached you, you felt his chest bump your shoulder before he rested his cheek on the crown of your head, his arm dangling by his side as he slumped. He took a deep breath before rubbing his hand across your back and standing, smiling as you peered up at him with a grin.
Licking his lips, he finally peered out to the streets below and his eyes went wide, “Y/n!” he practically shouted.
You flinched, “What? What’d I do?”
“You didn’t tell me it snowed!”
Giving a huff and a giggle, you couldn’t help but be sarcastic, “I’m sorry, was I supposed to while you were falling asleep in my chair?! Besides… it’s Canada. It’s not like snow is very rare here.”
“Y/n! That’s, like, snow! The kind we used to wish for when we were kids!”
“I know, I thought that too.”
“Well, c’mon!” he said, setting his cup down on the ledge. “We gotta go!”
“What? Go where?”
Jensen was already halfway through your living room and heading for the front door but paused to turn and point a finger in your direction, “You, me, snowman. Now.”
“Jay,” You whined. “It’s cold and its early. You sure you don’t want to just watch Netflix?”
“Y/n!” he said once again, looking as excited as a 12-year-old on a snow day from school. “Snowman! Please?” he begged, waving his arms frantically as he gestured outside.
“Okay, okay. Fine. No need to use your puppy eyes on me. I’ll meet you outside in 15 minutes.”
With that, a huge grin broke out on his face and he took off down the hall, leaving you to go in search of your heaviest ski jacket.
Jensen knocked on your door soon after you shrugged into the puffy coat, dressed in thick snow pants, his own jacket, and a black beanie and gloves with a small bag in his hand. Straitening your scarf before locking your door, he barely gave you a moment to put on your knitted pom beanie before he was pulling you by your hand towards the elevator of your building and pushing you out of the revolving doors into the frigid air. Heading to the side where a large park sat adjacent to your complex, he looked around before tugging you along to a spot with a large open space. He nodded to himself, as if to say he’d found the perfect place for his snowman-building escapade. As your boots crunched beneath you, you each began gathering handfuls of snow to make a large base, then packed and sculpted two more spheres. Though you initially protested, you had to admit that it was fun, and the coldness against your cheeks wasn’t bad after a bit, particularly after seeing how happy Jensen was when his finished product towered over yours. He’d managed to gather the majority of the snow within about a six-foot radius of where his snowman stood before piling it high.
“Hey, hey… look at that. An accurate height difference!” He touted, teasing you.
“Oh, hush you. It’s not my fault that you were given the extended version of the human body.” You glared at him playfully.
He laughed as he bent to rummage in the bag he’d brought, producing two carrots. He wiggled them in his hands before handing one to you. He was just about to place it in a very telling place when you grabbed a handful of snow and threw it in his direction.
“Jensen!” You berated. “That’s not where the carrot goes! There’s kids out here!”
He stood up slowly, turning to you with a serious smirk, “Did you seriously just throw a snowball at me?”
Wiping your hand on your pantleg quickly, you gave him a mischievous grin, “Who, me? I’d never.”
“Oh, its on!” he declared as he bent to scoop up the little bit of remaining snow in his reach, that which he hadn’t used for his snowman.
Ducking behind your own, he threw and missed, sending the snow flying passed you. A quick grab from around you produced another snowball that you chucked from behind your shield, hitting him square in the chest. The fight lasted for a good while, the two of you trying your hardest to target the other as many times as possible and receiving some laughs and glances from passersby as they walked along the sidewalk. Finally, Jensen gave up and took off towards you, chasing you in circles before he tackled you into the plush ice, pinning you beneath him as he tried to bury you both.
“Jay! Oh my God, stop! Its freezing!” you yelled through your laughter.
“Truce?” he asked, his eyebrows raised in a challenge.
He was still on top of you, his nose and cheeks a bit flushed from the wintry air. He still had that devilish smirk on his face, but his green eyes were soft and something beneath them made your heart flutter slightly in your chest. He scanned your face quickly before glancing towards your lips, but you were quick to snatch another fistful of snow to smash onto his head. Scrambling out from underneath him, you ran as he said something about you being a cheater before he jumped to his feet.
After the war ended and a truce was finally declared, you both put the finishing touches on your snowmen after you found sticks for the arms and coerced Jensen to put the carrot in the right spot. He stood back proudly, admiring your handiwork.
“Hey.” He gestured to you, “C’mere.”
A bit warry that he was going to tackle you again, you came to his side as he pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket and turned on the camera. Pulling you into him, he said, “Gotta have evidence of our masterpieces.” He reached around your waist and tugged you in close, framing both of you and your snowmen in the background. The cold air made the tip of your nose and the apples of your cheeks change in color, and there was still some snow in your hair from when Jensen wrestled you, but both of you smiled widely. Feeling the scruff of his short beard against your temple and his arms wrapped around you made you think about the way his eyes danced across your face moments ago, but the thought was quickly dismissed as he stepped away from you slightly after he made sure the picture wasn’t too blurry.
“Oh, crap. Is that what time it is?” he said, alarmed, looking at his phone screen. “I have to meet Stacy in an hour.”
Stacy was his publicist and agent, but he usually didn’t meet with her during the hiatus. “You’re meeting Stacy today? What’s up?” you asked, a bit confused.
“She wants to talk to me about this movie. Some sort of romantic drama she thought I may be good for.”
“Oh,” you replied, “that’s great! You didn’t tell me! Would you have to cut back filming the show?” While you were a bit surprised, you were genuinely happy for him.
“Stacy knows Supernatural comes first, so I hope not.”
“Well, let’s get inside so you can warm up and change. I was going to make my mom’s chili and cornbread for dinner tonight, if you want to join me after your meeting.”
The excitement on his face was palpable as his eyes lit up the moment you said it, “You know how much I love your mom’s chili. We’re just meeting for coffee near her office, so I’ll bring the beer.”
As you were walking back into the building, your phone rang. It was Stephen, your boyfriend of three months.
“Stephen, hey.” You said as you entered the elevator, not missing the slight eyeroll that Jensen gave.
“Hey, honey. How are you? I didn’t want to call too early, just in case you were still sleeping after last night.”
“I’m good, thanks. Actually, just got done building a snowman with Jensen.”
A short silence followed, until Stephen spoke up again. “Oh, that’s nice.” He said, his voice noticeably clipped. “Well, I’m going to take my lunch break soon. Would you like to meet up? I can come to your side of town.”
“Uh, sure. I’ll meet you at that café on 3rd in about a half an hour?”
“Sounds great. See you there.”
Shoving your phone back in your pocket, you ignore Jensen’s stare as the elevator climbed to your floor.
“So…” he pressed. “Stephen?”
“Yeah, Stephen. We’re going to meet up for lunch while you have your meeting.”
“Hmph.” He huffed.
“Jay, we’ve known each other our whole lives and to this day you’ve never liked a single guy I’ve ever dated. What’s wrong with Stephen?”
“I don’t know. He’s just kind of… meh.”
He wasn’t lying, if you were being truthful. Stephen was meh. He was cute and had nice eyes and dimples, but he didn’t make you laugh. He was a bit dull and your sense of humor didn’t mesh with his well. Still, you thought that it might get a bit better once you got to know each other and began to understand one another more. Your relationship was still very casual, but maybe it could go further? You weren’t really sure, honestly.
“What about you and Laura?” you asked, quickly changing the subject.
“I told you… that was nothing.” He quipped as you reached your door. “We went on like three dates.”
“Yeah, the last one being just this past week.”
“Yeah, and it just didn’t go well.”
You let out a small sigh. Discussing your dating lives wasn’t really something the two of you loved to do with each other. Maybe when you were teenagers, yeah. You’d asked each other for advice and gossiped a bit about the people in your high school, but as you grew into adults it just became a subject you both steered away from besides the occasional, hey I’ve got a date conversation. Neither of you had ever really found a person that the other approved of, each finding a reason to be picky every time.
“I’m sorry, Jay. I’m just deflecting.”
“It’s okay, sweetheart. I was pushing.” He said sincerely with a small smile. “Well, you enjoy lunch. My meeting’s at 1:30 across town, so I should be back by 4 at the latest. Pick out a movie for us, okay?”
“Sounds great. I will.” With that, he kissed you quickly on the side of your head and went into his apartment as you ducked into yours. You freshened up quickly and changed, grabbing a different peacoat, hat, and scarf as your others were still wet.
It was a short walk to the café, and they had good sandwiches. You were surprisingly hungry, so you were glad to see Stephen waiting outside for you. He gripped your hand tightly and gave you a quick kiss in greeting before leading you into the restaurant. You were seated and ordered quickly, knowing that he would have to return to work soon.
“So, how has your day been?” You asked as you shrugged off your coat, hanging it on the chair behind you.
“It’s been… good.” He muttered.
“Uh oh,” You said, getting his attention as he looked away from you. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, really. I was just surprised to hear that you were with Jensen today. You had mentioned you were going to stay home.”
Stephen smiled, almost in an attempt to let you know that he was trying to be lighthearted about it, but you could tell it bothered him.
“Yeah, when he saw it snowed last night, he just really wanted to make a snowman.” You laughed, trying to steer away from the subject. Stephan wasn’t overstepping, but he also wasn’t going to prevent you from spending time with Jensen. The two of you had been inseparable since, well, practically since birth. Your parents had been the best of friends, so you were pretty much raised together.
“Have you, um…” Stephen began, hesitantly. “I know you’ve been friends forever, but have you ever had feelings for him?”
His blue eyes shown with a slight jealousy as you felt a slight pang to your heart.
“No, of course not.” You managed to say with a steady voice and a smile as you picked up your napkin to place in your lap.
It was a lie, one that you’d been telling for years. At one point in your life, you were in love with Jensen. But, the past was in the past. If Jensen didn’t even know, why should Stephen?
Stephen seemed satisfied with your response for the most part, and the two of you had a pleasant lunch. When you stepped away to use the restroom, your phone chimed. Stephen tried not to even look towards your side of the table where your phone sat, but when he saw Jensen’s name, he read the text quickly before the screen dimmed.
Hey, sweetheart. Finishing up here soon and then I’ll be heading home. Do you need me to grab anything from the store?
Stephen knew the two of you were a package deal, and thought he could honestly be alright with it, but between working together and spending practically all of your time together, he was starting to wonder where he fit in in your life. He busied himself by checking his Instagram as he thought about what he should do and found that Jensen had tagged you in a photo from this morning. The caption was simple, just a few words about the filming hiatus and the first snow of the season, but the two of you were so close. Stephen found himself wishing that you could reserve a smile like that for him, but he had yet to see it.
It hurt, but he knew he couldn’t play second fiddle to Jensen. He cared about you, but perhaps it was better to bow out now.
“Hey, sorry about that.” You said brightly as you got back to the table, smiling. It still didn’t reach your eyes, though.
Stephen leaned forward on his elbows with a sigh, “Y/n, I think we should talk.”
To be continued...
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watermelonsugar2612 · 3 years
Text
'MY DREAM WEDDING'
Chapter 1: 'You're serious?"
Author's note: Heya! I’m writing a new Hinny fic, all the way from the proposal to the wedding. It will have 10-15 chapters I think! Let me know if you like it and if I should continue!! <33
It was 1 am. Harry and Ginny had just had sex. They both lay on top of each other in a heap of limbs, panting. “I love you Gin,” Harry said as he stole a soft kiss from Ginny. “Me too,” she let out a satisfied sigh. “Set the alarm, we’ll go running tomorrow. 7 am, sharp! I have practice from 9:30 and your training starts at 10,” she instructed. “Aye aye captain.” Harry replied in a lost but wonderful tone. He picked up the alarm clock and twisted a few knobs. “Mmmm… I’ve set the alarm baby,” he said as he pulled Ginny back onto the bed while she was trying to put on her robe. The half-untied robe fell off her shoulders and she lay completely naked on top of Harry. “No Harry! We just finished,” she whined in an explanatory attitude, she tried to pull away but his grip was too tight, “Harry! We have an early day tomorrow, no!” she whined even more. “Okay, I’ll let you go but we both sleep just like this tonight? Deal?” he grinned cockily. “Like this? What do you mean?” she thought for a second and her mouth rounded in shock, “Completely naked?!” she gave him a questioning look and shouted. “You heard me right! Just. like. This.” his grin spread to both his ears. “Fine!” she gave up and muttered, “prat.” Harry had heard her, he pulled her down onto his lips in a greedy kiss, full of hunger. As soon as he felt her getting lost in the kiss, he pulled away. “Not fair!” she cried. He laughed and pulled her onto the bed beside him, spooning her, one hand on her breast, the other on her thigh. She gave out a satisfied sigh. Both of them were utterly spent, every ounce of their body was ready to give in, to sleep, but somehow neither of them could give in to the temptation. They lay there silently feeling each other's presence, it was enough, they were happy, complete. “Gin, will you marry me?” Harry broke the ice. Ginny turned her head and looked into his beautiful bespectacled green eyes, in utter panic, “Gin, would you like to have another round of sex? Or Gin, do you want to organise a party at Grimmauld Place? Or Gin, do you want to go to dinner? Or Gin, do you want to go on vacation, would’ve been- acceptable! It's 3 in the morning, Harry James Potter! You want to marry me?” she blurted out. “I’m sorry Gin- I- Please don’t leave me, I was just wondering if you would- I saw a future, I’m sorry if I’m going too fast! I’m such a git we’ve only been dating for 2 years- sorry. I’ll wait for as long as you want… sorry Gin, what can I do to make it up to you?” he stammered. Ginny instantly regretted her panic, truth be told, she was waiting for him to talk about marriage, what had she done!? “Shit.” she muttered, “Harry, Bubba, I’m so sorry-” she said as she felt tears well up in both his and her eyes. She immediately engulfed him in a hug. Still tightly embraced, she said softly into his ear, “I’ll marry you, I’ve always wanted that,” she snorted softly and pulled away, “I love you,” she said into the kiss. He pulled away and looked deep into her chocolate eyes as if he was looking at her soul, “Gin, you are the most incredible, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, everything with you is so much better than it could’ve been with anyone else in the entire world. When I'm with you I- I feel complete. The passion we share, the amount we love each other, and care for each other, I don’t think it's possible to do that with anyone else. I realise, this isn’t any girl's dream proposal, hell, I don’t even have a ring for you, and we’re naked, in bed! And, 'm sorry to just blurt it out like that, but if you’re serious about marrying me, I’m the happiest man in the world.” he said. “Oh, Harry! My sweet, sweet Harry! I love you so much, I don’t think it’s possible to love anyone as much as I love you! Yes, I’m serious, I want to marry you, love!” she replied with a large smile on her pink face. “You’re serious?” he muttered again. “Yes I’m serious, and honestly, I’ve kinda imagined my boyfriend asking me to marry him after we had hot steamy sex.” she winked. “Oh, one more thing before we finally sleep, can we not tell the family until we
have rings and also can we give them a different version of the story, because if your brothers find out this is when I proposed, they might kill me.” he chuckled. They both laughed and as soon as their heads fell to the bed, both of them fell asleep, now feeling much more complete than they ever had before.
***
The alarm rang all of a sudden and Harry opened his eyes slowly, taking in the sight of the gorgeous redhead lying naked beside him on his bed. “Morning baby,” he hummed softly. “Morning to you too, Fiancee dearest,” she muttered, still half-asleep. They both laughed and Ginny gave Harry a quick and sloppy kiss. “Would you like to go running with me Ms Weasley?” Harry grinned. “Let’s see? Would you like to marry me, Mr Potter?” She tried hard not to laugh and played along. “Why, of course!” he chuckled, “Then, I shall go running with you.” she laughed and bowed down gracefully putting her hand near his mouth. He took it in his hand, gave a slight bow and brushed his lips against it. Ginny changed into an exercise set, leggings which made her arse look hot and a cropped sweatshirt, in a very light beige colour. Harry wore a pair of loose basketball shorts and a large hoodie on top. This hoodie was his, but it was generally worn by Ginny on movie nights with Harry. Both of them loved it. It was monsoon and they were worried it would rain, but they didn’t pay much attention to it. They stepped out to the pavement outside Grimmauld Place feeling a gust of cool, humid monsoon air blow in their hair. They began running, they talked and laughed. The roads were rather crowded, it was rare to see a couple so randy for each other, even after 2 years. It was visible as both of them ran, how much in love they were, stealing kisses, giving playful nudges, saying that they loved the other every 20 seconds in a way that they thought the other might forget, but the truth being said, the love they felt for each other could never lessen, forgetting was a far way forth. “Gin, do you wanna get some coffee?” Harry panted as they took a brief halt. “Hmm… yes, let’s get coffee,” she caught her breath and hummed. “Let’s go to that muggle cafe you like?” Harry smiled. Ginny nodded and they made their way to a secluded corner and apparated a little away from the cafe. It was called ‘Episode’ and it looked gorgeous. The early morning sunlight fell on its entrance which was green, full of plants. There were tables outside with umbrellas above them and there was a gazebo as well. The signboard of the cafe was covered with vines. They both took a seat in a corner outside. “So, when do you want to go ring shopping?” Harry asked expectantly, “I’m free this weekend. We have an offseason, we don’t have a game for another 3 months, today is just a meeting with our trainers to make sure we are all following our diet.” Ginny shrugged. “Done then, this weekend it is!” Harry pecked her lips as the waiter approached them from behind. “Morning to you sir, ma’am! What can I get you today?” the waiter asked politely and handed them a menu with several beverages written on it. They both glanced through and Ginny spoke up, “Good Morning! I will have a thick and frothy Hazelnut Frappuccino, with extra whipped cream.” she spoke to the waiter and winked at Harry. He grunted and spoke, “I’ll have a shot of espresso, extra hard.” he grinned back at Ginny. The waiter looked lost for words, he cleared his throat and said, “Will that be all?” They nodded and he left. “What was that about Harry?” Ginny asked in a concerned voice, “the waiter was right there!” she whispered in his ear. “Hey! You started it, and just for your information, I’m kind of turned on!” he replied in a panicky voice, saying the end of his sentence into her ear. “A secret, me too!” she whispered back and bit his earlobe softly. He shifted in his seat a bit. Their foreplay continued for a little while and they both tried not to be too conspicuous. After a few minutes, the waiter appeared with their coffee. “There you are, your coffee’s! Call for me when you’re ready to pay.” he put down their coffee and left again. Ginny seductively took a sip of her coffee and a thick layer of whipped cream settled on her upper lip. She was about to lick it off but Harry lurched forward and darted his tongue to her lip. He licked it off in one swipe and Ginny moaned. “Keep it down baby, someone might hear you,” Harry
whispered in a raspy voice in her ear. She sighed and felt a chill run down her spine. “Harry, home. I need you.” she moaned. He ignored everything else, shoved a 20-pound note on the table, which was much more than their bill, but he didn’t care. He pulled Ginny into a corner that wasn’t visible to anyone around and apparated them to 12, Grimmauld Place. They entered the kitchen, both of them completely lost in lust. Harry picked her up as if she weighed nothing and put her down on the counter. He pulled his hoodie off with urgency and she ran her hand on his perfectly toned abs which glistened with beads of sweat. He caught her lips in an urgent kiss. She pulled her top off as well, separating with Harry’s lips for a brief second. Harry moved his hand to the back of her head and pulled off her hair tie. “Quick Harry! I need you inside!” she muttered into the kiss. Harry’s hand went to Ginny’s waistband and he pulled down her pants and knickers, he slowly inserted a finger and she moaned his name. He pulled down his pants and boxers and withdrew his finger, instead, entering her with his cock a second later. They both moaned with the sensation. He completely withdrew and entered her again after a second. He thrust slowly for a few minutes. “Yes! Ah! That’s the spot! Harder!” she moaned and Harry sped up at once. He went at an unbelievable speed and he felt her contract around him, he knew she was about to come. He twisted his hips in a way that made her scream. “Cum for me Gin!” Harry said loudly. “Fuck. Harry!” she shouted into the kitchen and spilt her juices all over Harry and the kitchen floor. Harry kept thrusting, riding out her orgasm and his was triggered soon too. He didn’t stop and caught her lips in a needy kiss. Just as he was about to pull out, someone walked into their house through the chimney. Shit. It was Ginny’s brother, Harry’s best mate, Ron Weasley. Harry immediately pulled out and bent down to pick up his boxers. Luckily, Ginny was still wearing her bra, she bent down to pick up her underwear but it was too late. For both of them. “HARRY JAMES POTTER! YOU ARE A DEAD MAN!” Ron screamed. “Ron, it’s not what it looks like!” Harry said and pushed Ginny away who had engulfed him in a hug from the side as soon as they had heard someone come in through floo. “Do you realise what this looks like Potter?!” he said with widened eyes, “Merlin! Put on some clothes, you two!” he said and walked away to the living room as if calling Harry to sit and talk. “Gin-” he grunted. She laughed and pushed him away, signalling to the living room. He put on his clothes quickly. “Ron-” he tried to talk but Ron cut in, “How dare you!” he shouted, “she’s my sister Harry!” he said. “Ron, she’s my fiance and-” he tried to speak but Ron cut in again, “Fiancee?” he shrieked and stood up from the sofa. “I mean- I- I-” he stuttered and he saw Ginny walk into the room. “Yes! Fiance and he proposed after we shagged last night! Just for a count Ron, we’ve probably had sex more times this week than you have in your whole life.” she grimaced. “What-?” Harry said in a confused voice and signalled toward Ginny. Ron threw glances at both of them who stood on either side of the room. “No Ron, she’s lying, we- we- we-”he continued stuttering. “Okay, Professor Quirrell!” she grinned at Harry and continued, “Ron! It’s all in front of you! Whatcha gonna do?” she laughed. “Gin-”Harry eyed her to stop. “Oh, and if I am telling you my secrets, we’ve even shagged in your room, Ron! At the burrow!” she finished. “My room!?” Ron said with a terrified expression. Harry rolled his eyes. “Whatever Ron! That’s the truth! We’re both consenting adults, there’s nothing you can do! Plus, we’re in love.” he said. “You two are bloody minxes!” he barfed. Ginny winked at Harry. “Fine! I won’t kill you then Harry!” Ron said his eyes now moving from the ceiling to the floor. “As if you had the balls to do that Ronald!” Ginny laughed and walked toward Harry. She stood in front of him and gave him a little kiss, whispering in his ear, “That was amazing.” They both
grinned and Ron looked at them with an expression of pure disgust. “I’d trusted you, Harry! If you end up getting my sister pregnant or something, I will never forgive you!” he whined and continued, “Anyway, when did you get engaged? And when were you going to tell me and ‘Mione?” he finished. “As Gin already mentioned, I proposed last night after we shagged like, 4 times. She said yes, we are going ring shopping on Saturday and we were supposed to tell you after we got the rings and make a more acceptable story, but there you go!” Harry chuckled. “4 times?! Couldn’t you have skipped the details? Bleugh.” he muttered. “Ron! If you don’t want to get your bits hexed, then you better not tell anyone else, except ‘Mione!” Ginny cut in. Ron rolled his eyes. “I’d originally come to tell you lot that me and ‘Mione are having a hang out session tomorrow, at 8 in the evening, it’s been long since we all met, so, I’d come to invite you two. It would be good if you could go shopping today and come up with a better story before it slips out of your mouths. It’s for your good,” he said and shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve taken a leave from work today too, to help ‘Mione with party prep, you should too!” Ron finished. “Well, alright, I wanna be officially engaged to you as soon as I can!” Harry said to Ginny, winked and kissed Ginny who he was still holding from around her waist. Ron gagged again. “Shut up! You just ruined the moment!” Ginny shouted and pulled away. “So? Are you going ring shopping?” Ron asked expectantly. “Hmmm… okay, I’ll call in sick,” Ginny shrugged and Harry held her tighter. “I’ll take a leave too!” Harry said and sat down on the settee with Ginny on his lap. “Where’s ‘Mione though?” Ginny said, looking at Ron. “Oh! She’s coming. She was meeting with one of her colleagues from the Ministry. She’ll floo in any minute now!” Ron replied. “Fancy some breakfast Gin? Ron?” Harry said. “Yes, please! I am starving!” Ginny grinned. “I think I’ve lost my appetite!” Ron said looking at the ever-randy couple in front of him who was now making out. Harry reluctantly pulled away and went to the kitchen. About 10 minutes later Harry walked back into the room with two plates, both with two slices of bread, each topped with a sunny side up and three strips of bacon. He handed one to Ron, “You could never lose your appetite!” he laughed and walked back to Ginny who stood up. He sat down and pulled her back on her lap. She picked up one of the pieces of bread and took it near Harry’s mouth. He took a bite and licked his lips. He did the same to Ginny and Ron looked up from his plate of food now to find Ginny licking Harry’s lips. “I think both of you are bloody capable of eating on your own!” he shouted and they heard the sound of someone coming in through the chimney. Of course, it was Hermione, Ron’s wife and Ginny and Harry’s best friend. She walked in and all of them greeted her with a pleasant hug and Ron with a kiss. They all took their places, now Hermione sat beside Ron on the large sofa in the middle of the room. They all ate and chatted, Ron told Hermione what had happened when he came here and the room filled with giggles from everyone except Ron. They talked for about an hour, “I’m going to go home, prepare for the party?” Hermione said as she got up and pulled Ron with her. They said their goodbyes and Ron and Hermione flooed away. “Now, Fiancee dearest, would you fancy making some calls to your office and mine for a holiday?” she asked, smiling. He nodded and they made their calls. “I’m going to take a shower, then we’re going to go get some rings!” Harry said as he walked into the bathroom. He took a quick shower and as soon as he stepped out, completely naked, Ginny walked in. He pulled her toward him and threw her over his shoulder. They both laughed as Harry put on his boxers. He put her down then and put on the rest of his clothes. Ginny stripped quickly and hopped into the shower. Harry tried not to look because he knew that it wouldn’t be too good if he was turned on while at the shop. He walked out and sat on
the sofa waiting for Ginny. A few minutes later, she walked out, completely naked. “Gin- you, you’re- you’re not wearing a robe or a towel?” he stuttered. “I forgot Harry! It doesn’t matter anyway, we’re going to be married soon!” she said and walked toward Harry, holding a tube of lotion in her hand. “Put this on my back,” she said normally. “But- but- Gin- I- okay-” he kept stuttering and took the tube from her. He looked away and squirted some lotion on her back. He started rubbing slowly in circular motions. “Harry! Do not tell me your awkward! We are going to be married for god’s sake! Shut up and rub it properly.” she shouted. “Yeah- yeah of course, god, I’ve done it before so many times!” he said a little more confident. “Oh my god! This reminds me of our first vacation together! In Long Island, our first trip to the US was together!” Ginny reminisced. Truth be told, Harry’s bulge was harder than ever. In long Island, they had sex inside the ocean, in the depths and it was probably one of the best Harry ever had. It really turned him on. He suppressed it and carried on, now using both of his hands to rub her back and massage her shoulders. He moved her hair and rubbed the bottom of her neck, timely whispering into her ear. Soon later Harry faced Ginny and caught her lips in a needy kiss.
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hb-writes · 3 years
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A Little Raven
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Written in response to Hauntober prompt #15: Raven.
Summary: From the Little Lady Blinder universe! A chat between sisters-in-law followed by a chat between Lizzie and Tommy. This is a bit long and self-indulgent and might not be particularly consistent with canon but oh well. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Characters Featured: Lizzie Shelby, Clara Shelby (Shelby!Sister), Tommy Shelby
—–
“Frances said you wanted me first?” 
Lizzie turned from the window, allowing the passage of a brief smile as she glanced at her sister-in-law. Like her husband, Lizzie still saw a couple of kids when she looked at Clara and Finn, still saw the little girl who passed her time with books and papers while sitting on the stoop at Watery Lane, still saw the boy with a keen eye for mischief and a disposition towards unsanctioned sweets. She supposed those visions still held true. None of them were so different to be unrecognizable through the years. Some traits endured the transition to adulthood, no matter what transpired in the interim. 
Clara stripped out of her coat, placing it over the back of the chair before following Lizzie’s gaze out to the yard where Ruby and Charles played with the nanny, their squeals and laughter sharp and clear through the pane of the closed window. 
Clara sat in one of the armchairs, pulling her feet up and working on untying her boot laces while she waited. She was used to the reticent moments, used to people taking their time in revealing why she’d been summoned somewhere in the first place. She found it a pleasant change for Lizzie to be inviting her to the drawing-room for a visit rather than Tommy summoning her to his office for one of his chats, even if her sister-in-law was very clearly preoccupied.  
The thud of Clara’s shoes hitting the floor as she slipped them off her feet pulled Lizzie’s eyes towards her for a moment before she settled them on the girl’s discarded boots, understated but still expensive, something Tommy had probably paid for. 
Lizzie wasn’t ignoring her on purpose, Clara knew that. She was just distracted, caught up in her own thoughts, turning something over in her mind. Clara just wasn’t certain how she fit into those thoughts.
“Lizzie?” Clara said.
“Mmm?” Lizzie hummed, finally fixing her eyes on Clara.
“You did ask for me, right?” Clara said. 
“I suppose you’d prefer to go be with the children,” Lizzie mused. “Or to go say hello to your brother?” 
“Is he home already?” Clara asked, glancing down at the small watch on her wrist as she adjusted the clock face. It was barely past five.
Lizzie scoffed, gave a single shake of her head. Tommy was eternally late in coming home, and habitually premature in leaving it.
“Well, that leaves more time for us to catch up, then,” Clara offered, absently kneading the arch of her foot. “I came home to be with all of you, Lizzie.”
“Right, all of us,” Lizzie answered, sitting down in an adjacent armchair. “When’s the last time you saw all of us here, Clara? When’s the last time he graced us with his presence at a decent hour?”
It was the previous Sunday, Clara remembered, and he’d come out of his office just before dinner, played with Charles and Ruby a bit before eating with Clara, Lizzie, and the kids, but Clara had the feeling Lizzie didn’t want to be reminded of that.
“Did you talk to him?” Clara asked.
Lizzie took a deep breath and nearly gagged, feeling as though she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from conjuring up the contents of her latest meal, the sick feeling in her stomach beyond the typical bout of morning sickness, more of a nauseating dread which had settled in the pit of her stomach.
The last time she’d been here, in this condition, Lizzie had been optimistic. Nearly five years later, she felt anything but. And despite all the strength she’d decided on summoning, despite deciding to stay, to accept Tommy and his faults, to balance her head against her heart, she hadn’t planned on this as a part of the deal.
‘A little you and me,’ she’d offered Tommy when she’d told him of the first baby growing inside of her, a smile on her face, a bit of hope in her heart. 
She had little hope this time, little positivity about the life prospects for yet another child of Thomas Shelby, a little boy nonetheless, a little raven-haired boy who would have his parents’ blue eyes, his father’s strong jaw, the unmistakable markings of a Shelby.
If Tommy had kept all of his promises, if he’d done right and put a proper stop to the sport for anyone named Shelby. If he’d kept Finn and Clara away from the life, Lizzie might have thought differently. She might have felt nothing but happiness at the prospect of another child with a little tuft of raven hair and bright blue eyes, but in half a decade, Tommy had dealt her plenty of empty assurances.
She feared enough for the children already. Her Ruby was a different child around her father, a bit nervous, a bit quiet. The girl didn’t know the same Tommy that Clara and Finn knew, nor the father Charlie had had for a time, at least while he was young.
This baby would never know that version of Tommy either, not really. Her children would spend their lives distant from the man they called dad, and there was part of Lizzie that didn’t think it to be a terrible thing.
Clara reached out to clasp Lizzie’s hand. “Lizz--”
“Polly says it’s a boy.”
“Oh,” Clara answered, pulling her hand back. “That’s--”
Lizzie cleared her throat and continued. “A little raven-haired boy named James.” She opened her cigarette case, placed the fag between her lips. “Jamie,” she added. “And no, I haven’t told your brother.” 
Clara frowned. She was tired of holding the secret she’d accidentally overheard when Lizzie confided in Polly. She was tired of pretending with her brother, tired of avoiding him. It wasn’t easy work, withholding information from him because, despite the best of Clara’s efforts, Tommy possessed an uncanny ability to know when his sister was keeping something from him. 
“He loves being a father, Lizzie. He’ll be--”
“Happy?” she suggested. “I’m less worried about your brother being happy than I am worried for all of you kids.” 
“All of us?”
Lizzie lit the cigarette, puffing before she pointed it at Clara.
“Yes, you and Finn are included.”
“There’s nothing to worry about, Lizzie.” 
“Right, with Finn running around getting himself shot and you--”
“What about me?”
“Neither one of you kids has a healthy sense of self-preservation, always pushing when you haven’t a need, and you’ve passed it right on to those two. Maybe it’s in the blood, an inherited recklessness that--” 
“Is that really what you’re worried about? That I’ve taught the kids to stand up for themselves and I’ll teach the baby the same?” Clara asked.
Lizzie glanced out the window again, the things she was truly scared about swirling in her mind while she watched Ruby and Charles holding hands as they went round in circles.
“It’s a bad omen, a raven,” she said.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Clara answered. “A baby can’t be a bad omen.”
Lizzie was beginning to believe that the Shelby name was a curse and that despite her husband’s promises, not one of the kids would live a life unmarred by it, not Finn, not Clara, not Charles nor Ruby, and not the unborn son growing in her womb. And despite knowing Thomas Shelby loved the children, she feared what she already knew to be true, that loving a person wasn’t always enough.
These days, Tommy’s moments of softness were harder to come by. The types of moments Clara held on to when her brother was difficult, the moments that reminded her through the tough spots that he did much of what he did out of love, for protection or survival. Lizzie didn’t know her children would have that, didn’t know that a raven-haired boy looking just like his father could ever garner as much care as he’d deserve from the man, enough of the affection that he would need to someday to get through the tough spots. 
“He’s not how he once was with you,” Lizzie said.
“He’s not been like that for a long while, Lizzie, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love them.” 
“I know he loves them, loves all of you, but I worry someday they won’t have memories enough to forgive him as you do.” 
“I don’t forgive him because of the memories, Lizzie,” Clara answered. “I forgive him because he’s nearly my father and because I know he cares for me as much as I care for him. Ruby and Charles know that. Jamie will, too.”
Clara joined Lizzie on the couch. “And regardless, you care for us all well enough whether that fool joins us for dinner or not.”
Lizzie set her cigarette down in the tray and accepted Clara’s offered hug, allowing herself to release a breath of relief with the girl in her arms. 
“Well, that may be, but it doesn’t settle my nerves about you and Finn,” Lizzie said as she pulled away.
Clara rolled her eyes. “You’ve not--”
“Glad I’m not the only one concerned.” 
Clara glanced at her watch again before looking at Tommy where he stood by the door. “You’ve actually come early?”
He nodded. “Someone had Adam make it very clear in my diary that I was meant to be home at a respectable hour today.” 
Clara hummed, feigning an impressed surprise, as though she hadn’t begged Tommy’s personal secretary at the commons to adjust his schedule to accommodate him being back in Warwickshire so early on a Friday evening. 
“Right. I think I’ll leave you two and go say hello to Charlie and Ruby while we wait on Finn,” Clara offered, slipping past Tommy on her way to the door. 
“Forgetting something, Clara?”
Clara turned back to him, snatching the forgotten boots from his outstretched hand.
“When our brother gets in, we can have a talk about your excursion in London on Tuesday evening, eh?”
Clara sighed. “I think we’re a bit old for a lecture, Tommy. It was nothing.”
“Seems like you two idiots’ll never be too old for a lecture,” he answered. “But go on. Go see the kids. I’m sure they’ve been asking after you all day.” 
Tommy watched his sister leave before taking the seat beside his wife. “Now, while we wait for Finn, you and I can have a talk about that baby you’ve got growing inside you, eh Lizzie?”
Lizzie scoffed. "Polly told you then? Or was it Clara?”
Tommy shook his head. Of course, his sister knew. He cleared his throat. 
“It was actually you, Lizzie,” he said, taking her hand in his. “Been eating honey on everything. Last time you did that was when you were pregnant with our Ruby.” 
Lizzie nodded, looked out at the kids again, saw Clara had joined Ruby and Charles, and the three of them were laughing like a set of maniacs as they ran about the lawn.
“You’re worried,” Tommy offered, guiding his wife’s face to his. “Let me into that head of yours, Lizzie.” 
She leaned into his touch as he cupped her cheek, allowed herself that comfort.  
“To clear it out?” she mumbled.
Tommy nodded. “To clear it out. Just like we agreed.” 
Lizzie placed her hand on top of his.
“Ruby’ll be asking after another sister.”
“Well, she’ll be disappointed then,” Lizzie answered. “It’s a boy.”
Tommy nodded. There was a time when he thought it mattered, back when boys became blinders and girls were considered liabilities but Tommy had stopped thinking that way, started thinking that Lizzie was right. And Grace had been right. There was only one way to keep them all safe.
“Either way,” he answered. “Another little you and me, eh?”
Lizzie nodded and Tommy pulled his eyes away at the approaching footsteps and laughter as Ruby and Charlie piled into the room.
“Daddy! Daddy!”
“And what have you lot been up to, eh?” Tommy asked, pulling Ruby into his lap as Charlie came to sit beside them.
“We’ve been playing, daddy!” Ruby said.
“Dad, Aunt Clara said she and Uncle Finn are ready for a shouting at whenever you are,” Charlie said. “They went to your office.”
Tommy shook his head, glanced quickly at Lizzie before he looked back to his boy. 
“What are you going to shout at them for, daddy?” Ruby asked, turning her head to look up at him.
“Don’t you worry about that, sweetheart,” Tommy answered.
“He’s gonna shout because they’ve been naughty,” Charles said to his sister. 
“Don’t shout very much, daddy,” Ruby answered. “It’ll ruin our supper.” 
“I’m not going to shout. We’re just going to have a talk about them setting a better example for you kids.”
“And then we’ll have supper?” Ruby asked.
“Then supper, Ruby,” he said. “I had Frances ask chef to make a special honey cake for dessert.”
“For mummy?” Ruby asked. “Mummy loves honey cake.” 
“And for your baby brother,” Lizzie answered, pulling Ruby’s hand to rest on her stomach. “The one growing in my belly.”
-----
Read more Little Lady Blinder stories here.
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jwillowwolf · 3 years
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Magic and Miracles - Prologue
Tag List: @sandersidesbigbang @thomassanderssidesbigbang2021 @theimprobabledreamersworld
First Chapter > | Masterlist
This is a multi-chapter fic I've been working on for the last couple of months as a part of the 2021 Sanders Sides Big Bang. The original idea came from this post by @remy-please-come-back [thanks again for letting me use the idea 💜].
Summary: Ever present, never seen. Feared and admired by all beings. The life that bursts from the earth, the secrets hidden in stone. It dances in the fire’s flames; it gives the wind its mournful tone. Here it is, this is it. Defined yet unexplained. In the depths of the ocean, and of your own mind. In the veins of all creatures, including humankind. For magic is in everything, yet unknown all the same.
For the longest time, Logan wanted to learn magic. So, when he was offered the chance to study it at a new magic school, he decided to follow his dreams. Along the way, however, he'll learn about so much more.
Warning/s: food mention.
Characters: Logan, Emile, Remy, OCs.
Read on AO3
0 | The Underdog's Debut
Ever present, never seen. Feared and admired by all beings.
The life that bursts from the earth, the secrets hidden in stone.
It dances in the fire’s flames; it gives the wind its mournful tone.
Here it is, this is it. Defined yet unexplained.
In the depths of the ocean, and of your own mind.
In the veins of all creatures, including humankind.
For magic is in everything, yet unknown all the same.
Perhaps this was why people found it so intriguing from such a young age. They wanted answers to what magic was, and while they didn’t find what they sought, they did learn how it could be used to their advantage. Spells were created to do anything that their caster’s heart desired. From creating a small orb of light for reading in the night to manipulating a tidal wave that could crash down on your enemies.
Magic was something not easily understood, which was one reason why the Council of Wizards evaluated all potential magic users. They wanted to gage that these young mages could safely use the power they were wielding. If not, then they needed to be properly dealt with before things got out of hand.
This was a good thing, but also not because to learn magic safely you would need someone else to teach you first-hand.
Now that doesn’t seem like much of an obstacle, except the only established wizards were of the nobility, and therefore only worked with nobility. The system was pretty much rigged to make it hopeless for average people to learn and use magic. Or it was until our protagonist came along.
He rose from poverty to royalty, became a hero among heroes, and faced off against one of the greatest threats to humankind that ever existed! But I’m getting ahead of myself -sorry- let's start from the beginning, shall we?
Oh, but where to begin? Ah! We’ll start from his first test with the Council of Wizards when he was only a young lad of 15. It was the beginning of spring, which is when the COW always held the learner’s test. This test evaluated your magical potential and gave the council a heads up on how many new mages there were. Yes, COW, don’t ask me why they went with that acronym.
The ceremony was being held in the grand hall of the palace, and it was open for anyone from the Srednas Kingdom to come and watch. The test itself was rather simple but the festivities that came with it made things feel like a special holiday. Nobility and common folk alike were gathered to watch and see what new wizards would be taking on learning magic. There was even a small market of sorts set outside the palace to take advantage of the crowds and sell foods, drinks, and commemorative merchandise.
Inside, people were everywhere, talking excitedly to one another and trying to find good places to view the proceedings. At the end of the room, there was a dais with two thrones where King Thomas and his husband, Prince Consort Nico, sat to watch. In front of the dais were nine chairs for the COW members, who talked with the royals and amongst themselves. Even they seemed eager for what was about to happen, and yet no one knew truly how monumental today was going to be.
The event had begun the same as any other year. Noble children from across the land showed off whatever three spells they’d learnt for the test. Most were common tricks like lighting candles or making plants grow. A handful showed off with advanced versions of these spells, such as holding the flames in their hands or making entire trees grow. Still, regardless of how many times these spells were cast, the crowd watched in awe with each new user who passed their test.
And then a young man in a simple navy tunic and black trousers stepped forward. He looked to be in his mid-teens, the same as most of the young mages and walked with an air of subtle confidence. He had a slender form and soft features that pronounced his youthful appearance. His hair was raven black, swept neatly to the side, and his eyes were such a dark brown that they seemed almost black.
“Please state your name and title.” Silvia, the eldest council member, said.
“My name is Logan Picani.”
“Title?”
“I don’t have any.”
Silence fell over the hall. “Pardon?”
“I don’t have any titles.”
“How do you not have any titles?”
“I’m not a noble.”
Some people audibly gasped and began whispering conspiratorially to one another.
“Young man, you do understand what this test is, correct?” Allen, another council member, asked with a thinly veiled look of disgust.
“Yes sir, I do. I also know for a fact that there are no rules against my taking the test because of being a commoner.”
Allen frowned and opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by Silvia. “I suppose not. Well then, let’s see what you can do.”
Logan took a deep breath and then held up his hand, “Ignyght.”
The tip of his little finger began to glow with golden light. The crowd watched on in silence as he carefully moved his hand to draw the necessary rune with the trail of light that flowed from his finger.
Once the rune was complete, he spoke again. “Solhart.”
The rune turned stark white and then disappeared. For a moment nothing happened, then a small white orb appeared where the rune had previously been floating. This earned a few excited claps from the crowd and an approving nod from two council members. But Logan didn’t stop there.
“Groh.” This time the light from his fingers was bright green. He made a different rune then repeated the sealing word, “Solhart.”
The orb multiplied until nearly fifty of them were floating in a cluster before Logan.
“Stahwynd.” A deep blue light flowed from Logan’s finger as he drew the final rune. “Solhart.”
The orbs burst apart from one another like birds flying off a tree in fear. Some people from the crowd shouted in shock as the balls of light zoomed off in all different directions until finally, they stopped. Now they were floating all around the room above the spectators who gasped as they realized what Logan had done. The hall’s ceiling was pitch black, so the lights looked like stars in the night sky. It was a breath-taking sight that inspired many to cheer and clap for the young mage.
“Alright, please settle down,” Silvia called over the noise before looking at Logan with a thoughtful expression. “Where did you learn this?”
“I taught myself.”
Silvia nodded then turned to talk with her fellow council members in hushed tones. Allen and two others seemed upset, while the rest of the council were neutral if not mildly impressed. After a few minutes, she looked back at Logan with a soft smile.
“Mr Picani, you are officially granted your learner’s license. I hope when we see you again in a few months time, you will once more surprise us all.”
The crowd cheered and Logan nodded before walking away with a look of pride. As he made his way through the crowd, he received congratulations from many strangers. And then he was tackled to the ground by an enthusiastic brown-haired girl.
“You did it! You did it! I knew you could do it!”
“Everleigh, my ribs.” Logan wheezed, causing the girl to release him.
“Oops, sorry. My bad. Is your chest okay?”
“It’s fine.” Both youths got up with smiles on their faces. “I did it.”
“Yep. In a couple of months, you’re going to be an official grand wizard.”
“Considering I just got my learners, I don’t think I’ll reach such a title that quickly.”
“You just created a night sky in the palace ballroom! I think you’re underestimating yourself.”
Logan smiled softly, “Come on, we should head back to the bakery to celebrate.”
Everleigh nodded in agreement and linked their arms so they could walk side by side. As they walked, Everleigh excitedly told Logan about how incredible it had looked from the crowd, and what kind of reactions the people around her had had.
Logan was uncharacteristically grinning by the time they’d reached the bakery. Walking inside only made his smile widen as the smell of fresh bread and sweet pastries filled his senses. It was after all the smell of home, so of course, it made him feel warm and welcomed. His father, Emile Picani, was standing by the counter helping an elderly customer when Logan and Everleigh walked in.
“Thank you, dear.”
“Oh, I should be the one thanking you, Mrs Goldstone. The brownie recipe you gave me has become a bestseller.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Have a nice day dear.”
“To you as well, ma’am. Oh, Logan, Everleigh, you’re back. And smiling,” Emile gasped, “did you get it?”
“He’s a wizard!” Everleigh dramatically announced.
“Not yet, I still need to finish the second test in a couple of months. I do have a learners’ license though.”
“Well, I think this calls for some celebratory tarts,” Emile said, ushering both youths into the back of the shop where the Picani’s sitting room/kitchen was located. “I’m proud of you logan. That hard work really paid off.”
“Speaking of hard work, you are going to take a break, right?” Everleigh asked.
Logan looked away from her sheepishly. “Well…”
“Come on, Lo. You’ve been working hard non-stop for months.”
“Yeah, kid, you work with me in the bakery all day, then study well into the night. And don’t think I haven’t seen you pull an all-nighter here and there.” Emile chastised.
It was true that Logan had worked long hard to get to where he was. it wasn’t exactly a simple task when books on magic were hard to find, and what knowledge they had was even harder to grasp. Figuring out pronunciation for the initiation/sealing words and learning to keep his hand steady as he drew the runes.
It had taken him many long nights of studying by candlelight to figure out the spells he’d performed. But with Everleigh’s library apprenticeship and his own persistent nature, he’d managed to learn a good deal about the basics. And now it was paying off. He officially had a learner’s license and would get a chance to become a genuine wizard.
Then he could use magic to help so many of the villagers who couldn’t afford the high-priced assistance of other magicians. Medicinal potions? Enchanted prosthetics? Transition spells? He would be able to give all this and more at prices his peers could afford.
Logan knew that what he was doing seemed near impossible, but he was going to do it or die trying! …okay, so maybe Emile and Everleigh were valid in their concern for his health, but this was his best and only way to study magic.
Before Logan could argue this, however, a stranger walked into the bakery. He was tall and slender, with a bronze tan and confident bearing. He was wearing a black leather jacket over a clean white tunic, black trousers, and dark brown riding boots. His short curly hair was the same dark brown shade as the boots, and his eyes were hidden by black tinted glasses.
“New customer, how do you how do?”
The stranger smiled. “Hey there, gorgeous. Sorry but I’m not a customer today. Is this where Logan Picani lives?”
“Yes, that’s my son.”
“Son? No offence honey but you look too young and handsome to be a dad.”
“Is there something I can help you with, sir?” Logan asked, taking over the conversation for his blushing father.
“Ah, yeah, I’m here to offer you a very special opportunity on behalf of the crown prince.”
Logan and Emile gaped. “The crown prince?”
The stranger nodded. “My name is Remy Animosni, and on behalf of his highness, I’m here to extend an exclusive invitation to the Srednas Magic School.”
Logan frowned. “I wasn’t aware that there was a magic school here in Srednas.”
“Well, that’s because there wasn’t, not until now anyway. It’s something that the prince arranged to start this year with a few students to show how good it could be to the council. You particularly caught his interest today with your starry spellcasting, hence the personal invite. You would learn alongside six other students under me about everything there is to know concerning magic, from the full basics of spells to how you can modify your own enchantments.”
“That sounds incredible,” Emile said.
Remy nodded. “Yep, and not only that but you will be given your own room at the school and anything you may need or want during your stay will be provided by us, free of charge. The location of the school is just an hour out of town, so you could visit home on weekends if you desired. So how about it, kid?”
Logan was gobsmacked. The crown prince had not only seen him but was impressed enough to send an invitation to learn magic at a special new magic school.
“Wait, what do I have to do for the prince in return?”
“Absolutely nothing. The offer is completely free of any fees or deceptive dealings. I promise. The prince even sent this with me to make sure you could have physical proof if so desired.” Remy stated, producing a scroll from inside his jacket.
Emile and Logan both looked over the document and found no problems. It was a straightforward invitation for Logan to study magic at the prince’s new school, with promises to provide anything he could need while he was living at said school, and nothing more. The father and son shared a thoughtful glance. It was definitely an opportunity.
Emile smiled. “Do it.”
“Really? You think I should accept?”
“A chance like this only comes around once, and I can always hire someone if I need the help. Follow your dreams kiddo.” Emile said with an encouraging smile.
Logan bit his lip as he considered things. He really hadn’t thought today could get any better, then this happened. He was worried about leaving his dad, but Emile had told him to take this chance. And he was right about this being a once in a lifetime opportunity. Besides, Remy had said he could still visit the town on the weekends…
“Okay. I accept.”
---
A/N: thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this. I'll be posting two chapters a day until the full fic is up, so if you want to be tagged, you can just ask. [Also, here's a link to chapter 1]
I'd love to hear what you thought about the chapter if you wouldn't mind commenting. Thanks again for reading! Here's hoping you have a magical day 💜
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iotiamohd · 3 years
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@iotiamo follow for follow? <3
Schrödinger’s Leak
We’re extremely sorry to say: this is fake. We made it because we’re agents of chaos  to prove that it was possible to do something like this in two days. It took a lot of work at the sacrifice of our sanity, but we did it, and filmed on a phone like the original leak was, it could pass off as real. (Look through this blog if you want to see the ugly truth of the HD version.)
The problem is...we were originally doing this to prove that the leak was real, because “no way someone would do this in two day, especially without getting paid”, and instead not only we realized it’s possible, but we’re left with more doubts than before. Keep on reading if you’re interested in what we (didn’t) find out, and what we did to put this together. 
We could have posted this a bit earlier, but we didn’t want to distract from the #SomethingToSay campaign.
IO TI AMO
Guys. Guys, we wish we could explain the sheer amount of things Vittorio Guerrieri, Cas’ voice actor, has been in. This man is in every anime dub ever, it’s impressive—we knew finding that specific “Io ti amo” was a losing battle, but we still tried. 
Oh, God, did we try. We went through English scripts of all the rom-coms he’s dubbed; compared that to the Italian subtitles of those same movies, looked for working links to stream the Italian dub and check if the “I love you”s we found were the right one....brain cells were lost. Progress was not made. 
We settled on using the one in Marley & I (lmao), that Owen Wilson’s character says to the dog  to his wife. It’s even better than the one in the leak, in our humble opinion, @ og leaker, suck our collective dicks.
Pictured here: Owen Wilson confessing his undying love for Dean Winchester (as he should).
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ANCHE IO
The closest match we had is Dean's Anch'io, (me too).
Although it wasn't a Supernatural "exclusive" line, we decided to search within the original scripts and look for an Italian corrispondance. We found it.
2x20 [9.54] - What Is And What Should Never Be It not only was a perfect match in terms of sounds, but after analyzing the file with Audacity we had no doubt about it. Furthermore, if you overlap the OG leak's "me too" with the one we found, they seem to perfectly fit. 
Listen to the cleaned and compared audios here, and stay tuned for our mixtape, it’s gonna be straight fire. 
Here are the graphs. The “Anche io” from 2x20:
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“Anche io” from the leak:
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Obviously we didn’t expect them to look the same, considering the differences in audio quality, but they’re still very similar. It was listening to the audios side by side that convinced us. 
...Is this proof that the leak is fake? Idk. Probably yes. But what if it’s a coincidence that they’re so similar? How different could the two graphs for two small words said by the same person possibly be, after all. And what about all the other lines that we couldn’t find a match for? You see now why we’re conflicted. 
CASTIEL
The original idea was to go through every. single. time. Dean says “Castiel” in the Italian dub, hoping to find a perfect match for the one in the leak. We figured every other line could have been taken from the voice actors’ older works (both Castiel’s and Dean’s are very popular here in Italy, and their voices have appeared in...everything, basically)—but that “Castiel” had to come form Supernatural. 
We didn’t find it. We went through a lot of the episodes with Castiel in them, the ones with more emotional scenes first, and found nothing...we ended up getting distracted by the search for Mi dispiace, Dean, when we realized that also had to come from Supernatural. We settled on using the first close match we thought of: the scene in 09x01 where Dean is praying in the hospital’s chapel. 
This is not the “Castiel” used in the leak, so we can’t prove that it’s a recycled line stoled from an older episode of the Italian dub. For all we now, Stefano recorded it for 15x18. 
“Castiel” from 09x01:
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“Castiel” from the leak:
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Does this prove anything, considering how bad the audio quality of the leak is? We wouldn’t get the same exact graph even if it was the same snippet of audio. (By the way, when we started this we thought that Dean had rarely said Castiel’s name like that in the dub. We’d forgotten than Italian!Dean never calls him Cas, the asshole.)
The same problem remains: did the leaker find some obscure anime episode where Guerrieri says Io ti amo and used it to dub Castiel, or is this all very real, and that’s why we couldn’t find it anywhere? We don’t know, we just don’t know. 
MI DISPIACE, DEAN
Apart from the very wistful "Castiel..." right before Dean gets chucked on the ground (lol get rekt), the other line that came without a doubt from Supernatural is "Mi dispiace, Dean."
I'm sorry, Dean, a sentence that Cas doesn't say that often throughout the show: we checked the English scripts, and we found only three instances where it happens (we only have up until season 13 dubbed in Italian, so if he ever says it in the remaining two seasons, it certainly doesn't have an Italian version). 
5x22 - Swan Song: Cas says it, and it's very obviously not the one in the leak. The tone is completely different. 6x22 - Meet the new boss: again, close but no cigar. 7x01 - Reading is fundamental: at first we thought it was the exact same one, and that's why this particular Mi dispiace, Dean is the one you can hear in our fake leak. After checking with Audacity, the one in the episode and the one in the og leak don't correspond. It's just the closest we could find. 
So...? What does this mean? We don't know. It's very possible that Italian!Castiel does say Mi dispiace, Dean somewhere in another episode, straying away from the original English script, but without transcriptions of the Italian dub available online, we had no idea where to start. 
It's also possible that the leak is real, and that's why we found no doubles for this line. 
Also: we've seen people in various posts about the leak saying that the change from "Goodbye, Dean" to "I'm sorry, Dean" is suspicious. It's not uncommon to change lines if it means lipsinking them better, and considering what was happening in the scene, it's not out of place to have Cas apologize to Dean. It wouldn't sound weird to someone who has never watched the original episode. 
But, there's another argument to make...Cas has never said goodbye, Dean in older episodes (as far as we could find), and the og leaker was forced to use the next best thing they could find in the Italian dub. 
THAT MONITOR...THAT DAMNED MONITOR...
That monitor in the leak looked so sus at first. Is it normal for professional studios to use equipment older than some people on this hell site?
Apparently yes. 
We've found a bunch of photos of voice actors in front of the screen they use at work, and they all look like that. Dusty. 
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These pictures also confirmed that the punctuation in the frame rate changes—sometimes it's all :, sometimes it's all ; (like in the case of the OG leak), sometimes it's mixed. Once again, we can't prove anything one way or another.
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This is a pic from 2009 of Davide Chevalier, Sam's voice actor, and the framerate looks different from the one in the leak...then again, it's from 2009. What does it mean? What does it all mean?
FINAL CRIES FOR HELP
If you know more than us, please tell us:
Did we read the Audacity graphs correctly? Do they prove/disprove anything that we didn’t mention?
Does the framerate make any sense? Are we being bamboozled?
Do you have any insight on whether or not season 15 is already been dubbed? We know that season 14 will go on air in bundles of three episodes starting from the 12th of December, so it’s not crazy to think season 15 is already in the works.
Was this worth it? Was any of this worth it? We slept very few hours last night. 
tl;dr: in conclusion, we CAN’T affirm with absolute certainty if the Italian leak is fake or not, since we have evidences leading both way. Sadly, the final word will be when the episode will actually air next year.
IRTF - Internet Research Italian Rogue Task Force
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kookie-doughs · 3 years
Text
Y/N L/N AND THE HALFBLOODS
Percy Jackson X Reader -Y/N L/N met Percy Jackson and everything was now ruined.
CHAPTER 10: The Wheels On The Bus Goes Skrt Skrt Skrt
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It didn't take me long to pack. I didn't have anything at all, which left me only an extra change of clothes and a toothbrush to stuff in a backpack Grover had found for me and Percy. Both having nothing to carry we decided to share a bag. The camp store loaned us one hundred dollars in mortal money and twenty golden drachmas. These coins were as big as Girl Scout cookies and had images of various Greek gods stamped on one side and the Empire State Building on the other. The ancient mortal drachmas had been silver, Chiron told us, but Olympians never used less than pure gold. Chiron said the coins might come in handy for non-mortal transactions—whatever that meant. He gave Annabeth, Percy and I each a canteen of nectar and a Ziploc bag full of ambrosia squares, to be used only in emergencies, if we were seriously hurt. It was god food, Chiron reminded us. It would cure us of almost any injury, but it was lethal to mortals. Too much of it would make a half-blood very, very feverish. An overdose would burn us up, literally. Annabeth was bringing her magic Yankees cap, which she told us had been a twelfth-birthday present from her mom. She carried a book on famous classical architecture, written in Ancient Greek, to read when she got bored, and a long bronze knife, hidden in her shirt sleeve. I was sure the knife would get us busted the first time we went through a metal detector. Grover wore his fake feet and his pants to pass as human. He wore a green rasta-style cap, because when it rained his curly hair flattened and you could just see the tips of his horns. His bright orange backpack was full of scrap metal and apples to snack on. In his pocket was a set of reed pipes his daddy goat had carved for him, even though he only knew two songs: Mozart's Piano Concerto no. 12 and Hilary Duff's "So Yesterday," both of which sounded pretty bad on reed pipes. We waved good-bye to the other campees, took one last look at the strawberry fields, the ocean, and the Big House, then hiked up Half-Blood Hill to the tall pine tree that used to be Thalia, daughter of Zeus. Chiron was waiting for us in his wheelchair. Next to him stood a surfer looking dude. According to Grover, the guy was the camp's head of security. He supposedly had eyes all over his body so he could never be surprised. Today, though, he was wearing a chauffeur's uniform, so I could only see extra peepers on his hands, face and neck. "This is Argus," Chiron told us. "He will drive you into the city, and, er, well, keep an eye on things." I heard footsteps behind us. Luke came running up the hill, carrying a pair of basketball shoes. "Hey!" he panted. "Glad I caught you." Annabeth blushed, the way she always did when Luke was around. I looked at him with a frown. "Don't look at me like that. I had to find out from the others you're going on a quest." he glared. "So much for the option you won't die at." "I would've told you if you were at the cabin when I got back. Now what's with the shoes?" "Just wanted to say good luck," Luke told Percy. "And I thought... um, maybe you could use these." He handed him the sneakers, which looked pretty normal. They even smelled kind of normal. Luke said, "Maia!" White bird's wings sprouted out of the heels, startling me so much, Percy dropped them. The shoes flapped around on the ground until the wings folded up and disappeared. "Awesome!" Grover said. Luke smiled. "Those served me well when I was on my quest. Gift from Dad. Of course, I don't use them much these days...." His expression turned sad. I didn't know what to say. It was cool enough that Luke had come to say good-bye. But here he was giving Percy a magic gift.... It made me a bit jealous. "Hey, man," Percy said. "Thanks." "Listen, Percy..." Luke looked uncomfortable. "A lot of hopes are riding on you. So just... kill some monsters for me, okay?" They shook hands. Luke patted Grover's head between his horns, then gave a good-bye hug to Annabeth, who looked like she might pass out. The three went to Chiron about stuffs while Luke and I had a staring contest. "So Percy got a present and I only get an I don't know... a hug? Here I thought I was your favorite." "What made you think you are?" He laughed and ruffled my hair. "And no you don't get a hug." "Suddenly I'm not coming back." He smiled and from his back he pulled out a sheathed knife. "I meant to say you won't get only a hug. I noticed you're not a fan of swords. So, I made this my self. I am no Hephaestus child but hey..." He handed me the knife. The sheath was plain colored with a metal chap and locket, it had chains attached to the locket where I could probably put it on something to make sure I bring it with me. Pulling the knife out of the sheath, its knife was around 15 inches. On the blade, Ancient Greek was engraved on it. I think it's my name and the other side is his. "What is this?" I grinned. "I don't know. I ran out of good ideas! I swear I looked up some of Plato and Socrates for that." "And you settled for that?" I laughed. "I am going to take that back now." "Hey, that doesn't mean I don't like it. Thanks." "It's celestial bronze... Half of it at least." "Half?" "I'm sure Chiron won't appreciate it. It will harm both us and humans." "So... It'll hurt both side?" "Yup. And I'm not sure but according to a Hephaestus kid but it's supposed to glow when its near something." "Its not glowing now." "We never said no backsies. I'd like it back now." "I'll take good care of..." I stopped to think of a name and almost immediately remembered a perfect one, "Sting." "I would ask but I already know." Luke shook his head. "Be careful with Sting. It---" "He. Sting is a he, thank you very much." "HE, is lethal. He it can kill us, others close to our kind and normal humans." "Oops I accidentally stabbed myself." With a worried look he pulled me in a hug, "And whatever happens. Put your safety above all. No need to be the hero. If you die in this quest I will get the lord of the dead revive you or kill me." "Ew how sentimental." "Be careful... okay? All of you. Promise me that." "Fine, I promise. On the knife, I'll come back not dead, with everyone." After Luke was gone, I placed the knife on my waist. I went back to Percy. "Okay, that's extremely cool," I heard him say. "What's cool?" I grinned standing behind Percy overlooking his shoulder. "My new pen." He showed me his pen and uncapped it only to show a sword. "I can't loose it no matter what! Its called Riptide." "But what if a mortal sees you pulling out a sword?" Chiron smiled. "Mist is a powerful thing, Y/N." "Mist?" "I just keep hearing that over and over can someone finally explain?" "Yes. Read The Iliad. It's full of references to the stuff. Whenever divine or monstrous elements mix with the mortal world, they generate Mist, which obscures the vision of humans. You will see things just as they are, being a half-blood, but humans will interpret things quite differently. Remarkable, really, the lengths to which humans will go to fit things into their version of reality." Percy put Riptide back in his pocket. For the first time, the quest felt real. We was actually leaving Half-Blood Hill. We was heading west with no adult supervision, no backup plan, not even a cell phone. (Chiron said cell phones were traceable by monsters; if we used one, it would be worse than sending up a flare.) I had no weapon stronger than a knife to fight off monsters and reach the Land of the Dead. "Chiron..." I said. "When you say the gods are immortal... I mean, there was a time before them, right?" "Four ages before them, actually. The Time of the Titans was the Fourth Age, sometimes called the Golden Age, which is definitely a misnomer. This, the time of Western civilization and the rule of Zeus, is the Fifth Age." "So what was it like... before the gods?" Chiron pursed his lips. "Even I am not old enough to remember that, child, but I know it was a time of darkness and savagery for mortals. Kronos, the lord of the Titans, called his reign the Golden Age because men lived innocent and free of all knowledge. But that was mere propaganda. The Titan king cared nothing for your kind except as appetizers or a source of cheap entertainment. It was only in the early reign of Lord Zeus, when Prometheus the good Titan brought fire to mankind, that your species began to progress, and even then Prometheus was branded a radical thinker. Zeus punished him severely, as you may recall. Of course, eventually the gods warmed to humans, and Western civilization was born." "But the gods can't die now, right? I mean, as long as Western civilization is alive, they're alive. So... even if I failed, nothing could happen so bad it would mess up everything, right?" Chiron gave us a melancholy smile. "No one knows how long the Age of the West will last, Percy. The gods are immortal, yes. But then, so were the Titans. They still exist, locked away in their various prisons, forced to endure endless pain and punishment, reduced in power, but still very much alive. May the Fates forbid that the gods should ever suffer such a doom, or that we should ever return to the darkness and chaos of the past. All we can do, child, is follow our destiny." "Our destiny... assuming we know what that is." "Relax," Chiron told me. "Keep a clear head. And remember, you may be about to prevent the biggest war in human history." "Relax," Percy said. "I'm very relaxed." When we got to the bottom of the hill, I looked back. Under the pine tree that used to be Thalia, daughter of Zeus, Chiron was now standing in full horse-man form, holding his bow high in salute. Just your typical summer-camp send-off by your typical centaur. I took Percy's hand and we gave each other a reassuring nod. I wish us luck. Talking whilst at camp drained me. I apologize if I won't be much help. You have stamina? So you aren't a bigshot all powerful god? Without you and I as one. I am nothing. I have given you my everything.
Argus drove us out of the countryside and into western Long Island. It felt weird to be on a highway again, Annabeth and Percy was sitting next to me as if we were normal carpoolers. After two weeks at Half-Blood Hill, the real world seemed like a fantasy. I found myself staring at every McDonald's, every kid in the back of his parents' car, every billboard and shopping mall. "So far so good," Percy said. "Ten miles and not a single monster." She gave him an irritated look. "It's bad luck to talk that way, seaweed brain." "Remind me again—why do you hate me so much?" "I don't hate you." "Could've fooled me." She folded her cap of invisibility. "Look... we're just not supposed to get along, okay? Our parents are rivals." "Why?" She sighed. "How many reasons do you want? One time my mom caught Poseidon with his girlfriend in Athena's temple, which is hugely disrespectful. Another time, Athena and Poseidon competed to be the patron god for the city of Athens. Your dad created some stupid saltwater spring for his gift. My mom created the olive tree. The people saw that her gift was better, so they named the city after her." "They must really like olives." I interjected. "Not you too! You know what? Forget it." "Now, if she'd invented pizza—that I could understand." "I said, forget it!" In the front seat, Argus smiled. He didn't say anything, but one blue eye on the back of his neck winked at me. Traffic slowed us down in Queens. By the time we got into Manhattan it was sunset and starting to rain. Argus dropped us at the Greyhound Station on the Upper East Side, Percy and I didn't let go. Taped to a mailbox was a soggy flyer with Percy's picture on it: HAVE YOU SEEN THIS BOY? He ripped it down before Annabeth and Grover could notice. "They could've at least gotten a better picture." I smirked which caused him to roll his eyes. Argus unloaded our bags, made sure we got our bus tickets, then drove away, the eye on the back of his hand opening to watch us as he pulled out of the parking lot. Grover shouldered his backpack. He gazed down the street in the direction Percy was looking. "You want to know why she married him, Percy?" I stared at Percy then at Grover. "Were you reading my mind or something?" "Just your emotions." He shrugged. "Guess I forgot to tell you satyrs can do that. You were thinking about your mom and your stepdad, right?" Percy nodded. I missed my parents of course, but I had Luke and Grover to talk to which made me less lonely. Percy became an outcast when we got to camp and had no one to talk to. I squeezed his hand and gave him a smile. "Your mom married Gabe for you," Grover told him. "You call him 'Smelly,' but you've got no idea. The guy has this aura.... Yuck. I can smell him from here. I can smell traces of him on you, and you haven't been near him for a week." "Thanks," Percy said. "Where's the nearest shower?" "You should be grateful, Percy. Your stepfather smells so repulsively human he could mask the presence of any demigod. As soon as I took a whiff inside his Camaro, I knew: Gabe has been covering your scent for years. If you hadn't lived with him every summer, you probably would've been found by monsters a long time ago. Your mom stayed with him to protect you. She was a smart lady. She must've loved you a lot to put up with that guy—if that makes you feel any better." I knew what Percy was thinking. He was thinking of the fact we'll get his mom and my parents. How we'll save them all. We got restless waiting for the bus and decided to play some Hacky Sack with one of Grover's apples. Annabeth was unbelievable. She could bounce the apple off her knee, her elbow, her shoulder, whatever. I wasn't too bad myself. The game ended when I tossed the apple toward Grover and it got too close to his mouth. In one mega goat bite, our Hacky Sack disappeared—core, stem, and all. Grover blushed. He tried to apologize, but we were too busy cracking up. Percy pulled me to a corner, after excusing ourselves for a bathroom break. "You finally going to tell me about this quest?" "The truth is," He started. "I don't care about retrieving Zeus's lightning bolt, or saving the world, or even helping my father out of trouble." I gave him a look that reassured him to continue. "The more I thought about it, I resented my father for never visiting me, never helping my mom, never even sending a lousy child-support check. He'd only claimed me because he needed a job done. All I cared about was you and my mom. The underworld god had taken her unfairly, and he is going to give her back." "Percy, we don't even know what's going on. Yeah, he might have her. But what is there's another reason? We don't exactly know anything. I don't even think my parents are with him." "Well, no matter where they are. We will get them back. The least I could do is get them back." He rested his head on my shoulder. "Don't "You will be betrayed by one who calls you a friend," "What?" I froze. "Percy... I would never---" "You will fail to save what matters most in the end." "What are you talking about?" The rain kept coming down. "The rest of the prophecy. Y/N, I don't want you to betray me. Please... don't." I could hear his voice breaking. "Of course I won't. We'll get this quest done. We won't loose anyone and we'll get our parents. Don't worry." I hugged him. "I will stay with you. I won't leave and I won't betray you." "Hey Bonnie and Clyde, we need to go." Finally the bus came. As we stood in line to board, Grover started looking around, sniffing the air. "What is it?" I asked. "I don't know," he said tensely. "Maybe it's nothing." But I could tell it wasn't nothing. I took Percy's hand and started looking over my shoulder, too. I was relieved when we finally got on board and found seats together in the back of the bus. We stowed our backpacks. Annabeth kept slapping her Yankees cap nervously against her thigh. As the last passengers got on, I immediately clamped my hand onto Percy's knee. "Percy." It was Mrs. Dodds. Older, more withered, but definitely the same evil face. I scrunched down in my seat. Behind her came two more old ladies: one in a green hat, one in a purple hat. Otherwise they looked exactly like Mrs. Dodds—same gnarled hands, paisley handbags, wrinkled velvet dresses. Triplet demon grandmothers. And I was now sure, Mrs. Rudolph was one of them. They sat in the front row, right behind the driver. The two on the aisle crossed their legs over the walkway, making an X. It was casual enough, but it sent a clear message: nobody leaves. The bus pulled out of the station, and we headed through the slick streets of Manhattan. "She didn't stay dead long," Percy said, "I thought you said they could be dispelled for a lifetime." "I said if you're lucky," Annabeth said. "You're obviously not." "All three of them," Grover whimpered. "Di immortales!" "Who knows maybe they just want to play?" I said nervously. Annabeth gave me a look of irritation, "Not now," she said, obviously thinking hard. "The Furies. The three worst monsters from the Underworld. No problem. No problem. We'll just slip out the windows." "They don't open," Grover moaned. "A back exit?" she suggested. There wasn't one. Even if there had been, it wouldn't have helped. By that time, we were on Ninth Avenue, heading for the Lincoln Tunnel. "Maybe a nice chat would help?" "They won't attack us with witnesses around," Percy said. "Will they?" "Mortals don't have good eyes," Annabeth reminded him. "Their brains can only process what they see through the Mist." "They'll see three old ladies killing us, won't they?" She thought about it. "Hard to say. But we can't count on mortals for help. Maybe an emergency exit in the roof... ?" We hit the Lincoln Tunnel, and the bus went dark except for the running lights down the aisle. It was eerily quiet without the sound of the rain. Mrs. Dodds got up. In a flat voice, as if she'd rehearsed it, she announced to the whole bus: "I need to use the rest-room." "So do I," said the second sister. "So do I," said the third sister. They all started coming down the aisle. "I've got it," Annabeth said. "Percy, take my hat." "What?" "You're the one they want. Turn invisible and go up the aisle. Let them pass you. Maybe you can get to the front and get away." "But you guys—" "There's an outside chance they might not notice us," Annabeth said. "You're a son of one of the Big Three. Your smell might be overpowering." "I can't just leave Y-- you guys!" "Don't worry about us," I assured him. "Go!" His hands were trembling. But I took the Yankees cap and put it on. And he simply vanished. Mrs. Dodds stopped, sniffing, and looked straight at a spot. My heart was pounding. Apparently she didn't see anything. She and her sisters kept going. "Maybe if they approach us, I could try talking? I really was Mrs. Rudolph's favorite..." I stammered. "Yeah stage is yours." Annabeth answered. The old ladies were not old ladies anymore. Their faces were still the same—I guess those couldn't get any uglier— but their bodies had shriveled into leathery brown hag bodies with bat's wings and hands and feet like gargoyle claws. Their handbags had turned into fiery whips. The Furies surrounded us, lashing their whips, hissing: "Where is it? Where?" The other people on the bus were screaming, cowering in their seats. They saw something, all right. "He's not here!" Annabeth yelled. "He's gone!" The Furies raised their whips. "Don't!" I stepped in front of them shaking. "H-Hi Mrs. Rudolph. W-What could you need?" Annabeth drew her bronze knife. Grover grabbed a tin can from his snack bag and prepared to throw it. To our surprise the bus jerked to the right. Everybody howled as we were thrown to the right, and I heard what I hoped was the sound of three Furies smashing against the windows. "Hey!" the driver yelled. "Hey—whoa!" The bus slammed against the side of the tunnel, grinding metal, throwing sparks a mile behind us. We careened out of the Lincoln Tunnel and back into the rainstorm, people and monsters tossed around the bus, cars plowed aside like bowling pins. Somehow the driver found an exit. We shot off the highway, through half a dozen traffic lights, and ended up barreling down one of those New Jersey rural roads where you can't believe there's so much nothing right across the river from New York. There were woods to our left, the Hudson River to our right, and the driver seemed to be veering toward the river. The bus wailed, spun a full circle on the wet asphalt, and crashed into the trees. The emergency lights came on. The door flew open. The bus driver was the first one out, the passengers yelling as they stampeded after him. The Furies regained their balance. They lashed their whips at Annabeth while she waved her knife and yelled in Ancient Greek, telling them to back off. Grover threw tin cans. It was as if I didn't exist which was kinda offensive. "Hey! I'm also here!" I yelled pulling out my now glowing knife and helped Grover. "Hey!" A voice from the door way echoed. "Percy you idiot! Run!" I yelled. The Furies turned, baring their yellow fangs at him. Mrs. Dodds stalked up the aisle. Every time she flicked her whip, red flames danced along the barbed leather. Her two ugly sisters hopped on top of the seats on either side of her and crawled toward him like huge nasty lizards. I don't know how but I managed to parkour my way to avoid them and get to Percy in no trouble. I raised my knife and stood in between of them. "Perseus Jackson," Mrs. Dodds said, in an accent that was definitely from somewhere farther south than Georgia. "You have offended the gods. You shall die. I suggest you step away from him Y/N L/N." "I liked you better as a math teacher," he told her. She growled. Annabeth and Grover moved up behind the Furies cautiously, looking for an opening. Percy took the ballpoint pen out of his pocket and uncapped it. Riptide elongated into a shimmering double-edged sword. The Furies hesitated. Mrs. Dodds had felt Riptide's blade before. She obviously didn't like seeing it again. "Submit now," she hissed. "And you will not suffer eternal torment." "Nice try," I told her. "Percy, look out!" Annabeth cried. Mrs. Dodds lashed her whip around my sword hand while the Furies on the either side lunged at him. I managed to keep one of them and parried with her using my knife., which turned out to be Mrs. Rudolph. "I hate to admit it but you were my favorite teacher. Why go mean now?!" I struck with the hilt of my knife against her, sending her toppling backward into a seat. I turned to see Percy had sliced the Fury on his right. As soon as the blade connected with her neck, she screamed and exploded into dust. Annabeth got Mrs. Dodds in a wrestler's hold and yanked her backward while Grover ripped the whip out of her hands. "Ow!" he yelled. "Ow! Hot! Hot!" Mrs. Rudolph came at me again, talons ready, but I dove in and got in range to swing Sting at her and she broke open like a piñata. Mrs. Dodds was trying to get Annabeth off her back. She kicked, clawed, hissed and bit, but Annabeth held on while Grover got Mrs. Dodds's legs tied up in her own whip. Finally they both shoved her backward into the aisle. Mrs. Dodds tried to get up, but she didn't have room to flap her bat wings, so she kept falling down. "Zeus will destroy you!" she promised. "Hades will have your soul!" "Braccas meas vescimini!" Percy yelled. I wasn't sure where the Latin came from. I think it meant "Eat my pants!" Thunder shook the bus. The hair rose on the back of my neck. "Get out!" Annabeth yelled at us. "Now!" I didn't need any encouragement. Taking Percy's hand, we rushed outside and found the other passengers wandering around in a daze, arguing with the driver, or running around in circles yelling, "We're going to die!" A Hawaiian-shirted tourist with a camera snapped my photograph before I could recap my sword. "Our bags!" Grover realized. "We left our—" BOOOOOM! The windows of the bus exploded as the passengers ran for cover. Lightning shredded a huge crater in the roof, but an angry wail from inside told me Mrs. Dodds was not yet dead. "Run!" Annabeth said. "She's calling for reinforcements! We have to get out of here!" We plunged into the woods as the rain poured down, the bus in flames behind us, and nothing but darkness ahead.
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Previous | Masterlist | Next
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UwU Haha this is what the knife looks like since I'm not sure if I describe it that well... Omg I just realized my brother changed the chapter title lmao -kookie-doughs
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Just imagine it has your name on the blade.
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Taglist?
@gayer-than-the-gayest-gay @the-natureofme @booknerd-3000
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cluz1babe · 3 years
Text
*** Episode 2 Chapter 4 (STSF) ***
Dean leaned back in the booth. “Since I have you here, can I ask you something?”
“I get the feeling you’re gonna ask me more than something.”
He smirked and continued, “Do you trust me?”
“That’s kind of...” She paused, “Yeah.”
“Why don’t you trust my brother?”
“Sam didn’t tell you?” She shifted and Dean could see the discomfort in her face. “We tried to— I tried to connect with him.”
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“It didn’t turn out well.”
“What happened?”
“I saw things I probably shouldn’t have. Instead of those thoughts and feelings flowing back and forth between us, it was all coming from him and going into me. Couldn’t control it.”
“What’d you see?”
She closed her eyes and focused her breathing, bringing it all back to her memory. “There was this person—a man. No, not a man. He had these yellow eyes."
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“You saw Azazel. Did you see what he did?”
“No, but I tasted it.”
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“And the other times.”
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"And everything else."
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“There was so much. There was Hell."
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"Then almost like he felt…nothing"
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“…and he did things… I can’t really judge him based on those actions. And there were a few beautiful things."
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“Did you see Lucifer?” Dean asked.
“Yes. He was beautiful.”
“Beautiful?”
Y/N thought of his radiant grace. “His true form was beautiful, but I could also feel the terror. The fact that he was beautiful is no comparison to that feeling.” She thought for a moment. “There were two others in the cage. One was an angel, but don’t know who the other was.”
“Yeah… His name was Adam.”
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“Who was he?”
“Our brother. We were related through dad. Michael used him as a vessel and they ended up in the cage with Sam and Lucifer.”
“Oh...” Y/N tried to find anything else to look at. Why hadn’t they told her about any of this?
“I don’t feel like talkin’ about it right now.”
I guess that’s fair, considering I’ve only known them two and a half weeks, she thought.
“What about Cas? Why have you been avoiding him?” Dean questioned.
“I don’t know. I just don’t feel right around him.”
Dean thinks about it for a moment. “Let’s start with something small about you.”
“As in?”
“What’s your last name?
Y/N rolled her eyes. “How many times do I need to have this conversation before you believe me? I don’t know. Or I don’t have one... It’s difficult to find that information without an official document. I wasn’t born in a hospital.”
“You sayin’ you don’t know who your parents are?”
She sighed, “Actually, I don’t care.”
“How can you not care?”
“They decided to check out early and tried to take me with them. That’s how.”
This revelation was unexpected and Dean didn’t know what to say.
“Look, I don’t know anything relevant to my life before 1995.” She continued. "Can we have fun now?”
“Alright, fine. You tell me what you want to tell me.”
“I was raised in a group home."
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"Sort of. Someone saved me from my parents' death trap.”
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When his senses returned, he prodded her for more. “How old are you?” “I don’t know exactly how old I am, but I was somewhere between 3 and 5 in 1995. Stopped aging in 2016, I think. At least, enough to be noticeable.”
“So you’re in your 30s?”
Y/N shrugged, “Best guess. Only it’s not that simple. There are feelings, thoughts, languages...like memories, in my head. Stuff there's no way I would know if I’m only in my thirties. I often question if what I remember is real or if the other stuff is.”
“What are some of those memories?”
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“Actually sounds like you might have a lot in common with Cas.”
"Do you remember what I showed you?” Y/N asked.
“Nothing specific. It all runs together like—“
“Indecipherable thoughts strung together.”
"Within an acid trip.”
"Yeah", she agreed.
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Dean swallowed, "Just thinkin' about it makes me want another drink."
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“Tell me something about you that know one knows.”
“Sam is the only person who knows almost everything about me and the things he doesn’t know are way too private to be telling anyone else.”
“So tell me something almost no one knows about you.” Y/N pressed after too many drinks.
“I had a daughter.”
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Y/N stopped completely, and stared at Dean. “Had? What happened?”
“She was killed.”
“I’m sorry.”
“That’s not the worst part.”
Dumbfounded, Y/N had to ask, “What could make that worse?”
“Sam’s the one who killed her.”
Y/N’s eyes were fixed to Dean’s trying to figure out if he was telling some morbid joke that she didn’t understand. “H-how—?”
“She was trying to kill me.”
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Y/N was trying to imagine it in her head. Was she a toddler? 8? 13? Why was she trying to kill him? Maybe it was a possession? That doesn’t seem right. These guys can handle a possession, easily. Plus, they have an angel on their side. “I-I’m sorry.” She didn’t know what else to say.
“I only knew her for a day. I slept with her completely non-pregnant mom. Three days later, she looked like she was 15 years old. Trying to kill me to be accepted into her tribe.”
The more he talked, the more confused Y/N felt, until he told her the full story.
There was a long silence before she finally spoke again.
“Shots!” She blurted out and left her third beer at the table. This conversation was making her uncomfortable. She wasn’t expecting someone like Dean to drop a bomb like that. She slid out of her side in the booth, as quickly as possible.
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The band on stage started playing a cover of Led Zeppelin’s Dancing Days and an older gentleman at the bar grabbed Y/N’s hand. At first, Dean thought he was going to have to step in, but She went with him. He was leading her out to the floor in front the stage and started dancing. At first, she laughed, but the man insisted by continuing his dancing. She finally relented and began dancing with him.
There was a crooked smile on Dean’s face. He hadn’t seen her like this before. It was cute. He took a moment watching before he started to feel a pang of envy. He wanted to dance with her. Closer than this man was, though.
However, when Y/N turned to look at him, there was something about her that reminded him of Lisa. There was a different pang in his chest, and his smile was gone. What am I doing here with Y/N? She’s at least 10 years younger. Maybe 12.
When the song was over, She and Dean were laughing again. Maybe the liquor was helping him forget Lisa again. His phone buzzed and he checked it. He made a slight grin upon seeing the message.
“Your brother wondering what we’re up to?”
“No.”
“Castiel?”
It buzzed again. Same reaction. “Definitely not”, he said.
“Ah, you’re talking to a woman.”
“It’s a dating app. Sometimes I get random messages.” Another buzz. “This one’s a picture.”
“Ooh! Let me see.”
“No. When someone shares a picture, you keep it safe and secret. Hidden to the rest of the world. It’s the respectful thing to do.”
“Ask her if I can see it.”
“Why would I do that?” Dean asked, perplexed and also intrigued by the idea.
“You interrupted fun drinking and sharing time by bringing another woman. Even if it is via smartphone. I’d like to know who else it sitting at this table and what they have goin’ on. — Be sure to let her know I’m also into women.”
"Lookin' for a threesome?”
"Why not?”
After giving her a devilish smile, he sends an ask the other woman he's messaging. Dean then leaned in close to Y/N, placed his hand on her thigh, making sure his lips were close to her ear so she could hear him. "Are you trying hard to be naughty or are you just trouble?”
"I'm trouble all the time. Naughty on the side, and nasty late at night." She caught her dumb line and chalked it up to the alcohol. They both giggled. "I'm sorry. I've never been good with my words, especially when I'm tryin' to flirt.”
"It's okay. Maybe I can teach you." Dean caught her lips with his and the kiss quickly became heated, with his hand traveling up her leg and to her breast. Her hand was grazing his crotch, feeling him getting hard. Even right here in front of everyone, he might screw her. He couldn't understand this desire to be inside of her so badly. When his phone buzzed in a reply, he handed Y/N his phone.
She looked at him, impressed. “Wow. Not bad.”
“Yeah, yeah. I don’t get it, though.”
“What?”
“The lack of hair. One, I thought that was over by 2010. Two, I just don’t feel that comfortable with it.”
Y/N shrugged, “So don‘t fuck her.”
“Easier said than done.”
She scoffed, “Why does a woman’s personal choice about her body hair bother you at all?”
“Makes me feel like a sex offender.”
“Sounds like your personal problem.”
“Well, also her age.”
“What’s wrong with her age?” Y/N inquired.
“Too young.”
“Too young?”
“Too young. I need to find someone my own age and stop runnin’ around, you know?” Dean looked off into the distance.
“Settle down? You?”
“Yeah.”
Y/N laughed at him and replied with a smile, “Sure.”
*** EPISODE 1 ***
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
Part One - Episode Two
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2 
CHAPTER 3
PLAYLIST Ep 2 Ch 1-4
EXTRAS:
AO3
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
*** Strong Tongue and Slender Fingers *** (Here and AO3)
*** Alt Strong Tongue and Slender Fingers Smut Scenes *** (Here and AO3)
KLEE (Original Version) (Currently only on AO3)
Alt KLEE Smut (Currently only on AO3)
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writers-block246 · 4 years
Text
Bucky Barnes x Reader Fanfiction - The Light Amidst My Darkness
Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5
Warning: Mentions of mental illness. I tried to present Bucky’s challenges as accurately as possible. However, if anyone has some suggestions as to better portray his illness and resulting therapy, please lmk! (I researched to depict his struggle with mental illness and the type of therapy he would recieve as accurately as I could). Curse words are also included.
Notes: Italics are thoughts and emphasis. Set before Infinity War and Endgame. Slow burn.
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Chapter 1:
Your heels clicked on the cold marble tile as you strode towards your office. You unconsciously took a sharp turn down one of the compound’s hallways, caught up in your own little world. Thoughts swam in your head as you tried to make sense of the day’s tasks. I have a session with Wanda at 9:30, a meeting with my boss at 11, another session at 3. Did I mention lunch? What am I doing for that? A salad? A burge-
Your thoughts were interrupted by a cacophony of sounds floating down to you from the second floor’s overhang. Reflexively, your head shot up to determine the source of the ruckus. Almost immediately, your eyes met with cold icy blue ones. The Winter Soldier. Or the White Wolf, whatever they were calling him these days. Throughout the past few weeks, you had only come across the man (super soldier?) a few times. But now, in the middle of the hallway, his stare had stopped you right in your tracks. Suddenly, you recalled the details on his file. You had been given the information, which you had placed with the rest of the teams’s files, when he first officially joined the team and came to stay at the tower. Credited with over 100 assassinations of government officials, ranging across various countries. Charged with multiple war crimes. Cybernetic left arm. Enhanced abilities, including superhuman strength. Russian spy skilled in hand-to-hand combat and the use of many weapons. Simply put, the man was deadly. A shiver ran through you, images of the acts he had committed flitted through your mind. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of trepidation toward him. Enough in fact, to make you want to exit the area as quickly as possible.
You caught yourself. It wasn’t professional for you, a psychotherapist, to let emotions take over your rationale. Nor should you make judgments without having even truly met the man. Not to mention, Steve Rogers, a.k.a. Captain America, had defended James Barnes multiple times. And if there was anyone you trusted completely, it was the Captain. So, you would trust his judgement of character here. Steeling yourself under the assassin’s intense gaze, you nodded to him and continued on your way to your office.
As you walked along, you thought about all James Buchanan Barnes had went through. Flung from a train, captured by Hydra, and brainwashed to become the exact thing he had fought against. You wondered what it felt like to be at someone’s mercy with the mere utterance of a few words. Forced to commit deeds you never would on your own, awakening to the aftermath. Even worse, you thought, to be pitted against your closest friend, facing off from different parts of the battlefield. To be a twisted version of what made Captain America so great.
You decided to cut Mr. Barnes some slack. He had been through enough.
With that final thought, you stepped into your office.
Wanda Maximoff sat in her usual chair, patiently awaiting your arrival. Upon hearing you enter, she looked up from her phone and gave you a smile. “Heya, Doc.”
You couldn’t help but grin in response. “Hello, Wanda. How are you today?”
And with that, your first session of the day began. However, your mind kept wandering to those piercing blue eyes. You couldn’t deny that the soldier was handsome, incredibly so, actually. Tall, strongly built, and with those pretty blue eyes and dark hair. No matter how many times you tried to prevent your mind from replaying the scene in the hallway, you still found yourself getting distracted.
Wanda seemed to notice. “Are you okay Y/N? You seem a little off today?”
Shaking your head a little to relieve yourself of those distracting thoughts, you replied: “I’m fine, Wanda. I appreciate you asking, though.”
Its not like me to get distracted, especially during my job.
“Of course. We are friends, you know.”
You chuckled. “I know. But right now, I’m your therapist. So keep talking.”
“If I do, will you listen this time?” She said with a smirk.
You decided to ignore that comment. “So how would you describe your state of mind these past few days?”
Wanda gave a slight laugh, knowing what you were doing. However, she cut you a break and continued your conversation.
The minutes passed by with little to no thought of James Barnes, and soon, your therapy session had ended.
“Alright, that’s it. I’ll see you again at 3pm Thursday.”
She smiled. “Sounds good, Doc.”
You said your goodbyes as you walked her to the door of your office. Once she left, you sighed and sat down at your desk. You checked the clock: 10:42. You groaned. Eighteen minutes until your meeting. While contemplating the advantages and disadvantages of faking an illness (the flu? Chicken pox? The plague?), a notification popped up on your phone. Checking it, you realized it was an email from your boss:
Good Morning, Y/N!
I just wanted to let you know that our meeting has been cancelled. Director Fury said he needs to speak with you. 11 sharp.
Have a good day!
-Katherine Newman
Dread settled in the pit of your stomach. What could Fury want with me? You hardly ever spoke with the Director unless it had to do with one of your clients. Was this it? Am I getting fired? Is this because of me zoning out today? Did Wanda say something to him? No, no she would never sell me out like that.
You tried to calm your racing nerves. You were overreacting, you knew, but Fury had a way of intimidating people. Unclenching your fists, you swallowed and checked the clock once more: 10:45. 15 minutes. 15 minutes until you had to see Fury face to face.
15 minutes to make yourself presentable and cross the entire tower.
Shit!
Grabbing your things quickly, you made for the door. Heels clacking loudly against the floor, you began a fast pace toward Fury’s office. There was no way you could be late to a meeting with him of all people. The minutes it took to reach his workplace felt like hours due to your frantic worries. Finally, your eyes met with the name plaque on his door: Nick Fury.
Smoothing down your skirt, you took a deep breath and knocked. A muffled ‘enter’ was your response. Another deep breath and you were opening the door, only to be met with the same icy blue eyes from earlier.
There, sitting in front of Fury’s desk, was the object of your obsession for the past few hours: James Buchanan Barnes. The Winter Soldier.
Once more, you found yourself floored by the man’s intensity. This time, however, it was Fury’s voice that brought you back to the present.
“Have a seat, Miss Y/L/N.”
Only hesitating slightly, you closed the door behind you and headed to the seat next to Bucky. You made sure to not balk when taking the seat next to him, however, as you did not want him to think you feared him.
Once you were settled, Fury cleared his throat. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I had your meeting cancelled today.”
“Yes, sir,” you hesitantly replied.
“I’ve called you here to introduce you to your new patient.”
. . . new . . . patient?
Despite your confused appearance, Fury continued on. “He has to be cleared before he can go on any missions. Your sessions with Mr. Barnes will begin Friday.”
You felt James’s gaze on you. An unnamed feeling spread across your body.
He’s waiting for my reaction, you realized. He wants to see how I’ll respond to having to work with him.
Drawing strength from every professional fiber of your body, you prepared yourself and smiled. “Sounds good to me, Director Fury. Do you have a specific time in mind?”
His response was curt. “2:30pm.”
You smiled again, desperate to hide your nerves. “I’ll schedule it right away, sir.”
“Good.”
Ignoring Fury’s usual bluntness, you turned to James. “I look forward to working with you, Mr. Barnes.”
There was a hint of surprise in his expression, but he schooled himself quickly. Nodding, he turned back to Fury.
You didn’t take offense at his brusque nature. It was commonplace, you knew, for those that struggled with mental illness to behave in a blunt or off-kilter way. Instead, you made a mental note to express happiness at being around him. It would do him good for him to know people can be comfortable, and even look forward to, him being around.
(Even if I’m not totally comfortable).
Fury turned to look at James. “That’s all, Mr. Barnes. Remember your appointment, and I know you are aware of her office’s location.”
Was that . . . a . . . teasing tone of voice?
Even better, you could have sworn a light blush had settled on the soldier’s cheeks.
Nodding once more, James rose and strode out of the room.
Again, you were not put off by his behavior, as you had seen similar conduct from your other patients. Instead, you wondered about the odd exchange between Mr. Barnes and Fury. Am I missing something?
Your gaze settled back on Fury. “Was there a reason you had my meeting cancelled, Director Fury? Not to be disrespectful, but couldn’t you’ve just had me meet you later, sir?”
He chuckled. “Well sure, but that wouldn’t get you out of your meeting would it?”
You laughed, and felt the tension that you hadn’t even realized was still there release from your shoulders.
“It’s much appreciated, Director Fury.”
“No problem. And kid?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Get back to work.”
You scrambled for your things. “Yep, sure thing, sir.”
Headed toward the door, you gave one last look behind you. “Have a good day, sir.”
“Goodbye, kid.”
“Y-yep. Goodbye,” you stuttered.
You stepped out of his office and shut the door behind you. Breathing a sigh of relief, you made your way back to your office.
-Admin Cheyenne
More to come!!
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fangirlxwritesx67 · 4 years
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Deeper Than Deep Conditioner
I picked up this prompt from @awesomesusiebstuff over at @cabin-fever-bang“ Prompt: The two Sam’s (our Sam and AU Sam) maintaining their hair care routines while quarantined.” All the thanks to @boondoctorwho @itmighthavebeenintentional and @there-must-be-a-lock for the beta. @there-must-be-a-lock gets credit for the title and the ending all at once. Thank you my dears.  ... Honestly after everything, the last thing the Winchesters were expecting was having to deal with more of themselves. They knew that Chuck, in his petty fit of rage, was destroying all the universes he had created. They knew in theory that there would be other Winchesters, other sets of Sam and Dean. They just never considered actually meeting any.  The Sam and Dean that came blurring through their bunker walls seemed specifically intended to cause them peak annoyance. The only reason they ever left them there alone was a need to trick Chuck, to beat him at his own game.  After that mission was over, the Winchester brothers dismissed their alternate selves. They sent them to Rio, to beaches, to a place of sun and sand far from their current battle to save their world. The minute they left, Sam turned to Dean. “Rio? Really? That was our happily ever after, the sand between our toes.” Dean shrugged, looking so sad and resigned that it broke Sam's heart. “Hey, at least somewhere some version of us gets our happy ending.”  Sam shook his head, long hair brushing his cheeks. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Finally he said,  “Dean, as long as we're together, I'm good." Dean threw an arm over his shoulder. “Me too; just don’t start wearing a manbun. Come on, let’s have a beer.” 
That night settled into the familiar bunker routine and each brother went to sleep in his bedroom. Dean dreamed of driving away, of bikini beauties on the beaches of Rio. Sam dreamed of scarves and what it would be like to have no bigger worries in the world than his hair.
The Winchesters woke up to voices in their kitchen and rushed in, weapons drawn. There was the alternate pair of them, suddenly returned.
“Sorry, sweethearts,” alt!Dean said, “Flights are all cancelled. A virus or something.”
Alt!Sam nodded with a little pout. “And I had already booked a full weekend of spa treatments in Rio!” 
The original Winchesters sighed. 
“Sit down,” Dean commanded, in a voice that brooked no argument. Even his alternate self obeyed. He returned to the table in the kitchen with four coffee mugs and a big bottle of Jameson. Each man took a mug.
“Is there cream?” asked alt!Sam. The look Dean gave him would’ve curdled milk, if there was any, which there wasn’t, because Dean took his coffee black, like a man. 
Sam and Dean gave one another a long hard look. Sam nodded, deferring to Dean. He turned to their other world selves. 
“You can stay here,” he began. “This is a safe place, but it’s safe for a reason. You have to abide by the rules.” 
The alt!WInchesters nodded earnestly.
“And here’s the thing,” Sam added. “I’m Sam, he’s Dean. It's too confusing to have two of each. You have to pick something else.” 
The other pair of brothers spoke in whispers for a long moment before turning to face their other selves. “I’m okay with Deano. And he - he’s-” “Sami!” he said with a smirk. Sam rolled his eyes. 
Dean and Sam took Deano and Sami on a short tour of the bunker, showing them to a set of adjoining rooms across the hall from theirs. 
Dinner that night was a fractured affair. Cas prepared sandwiches. He knew how keenly humans loved them. Something told him that a meal where everyone could choose would be the best thing for the very different and divided Winchester brothers that were suddenly doubled in the bunker. 
Dean and Deano seemed to be in a competition for who could pack the most meat and tomatoes and bread together, but eventually they each picked up a carefully layered sandwich. Dean swiped a six pack of beer and they headed down the hall. 
“We’ll be in the Dean cave,” one of them called over his shoulder. Once they were gone, the two Sams looked at one another. 
“I like a good sandwich, but honestly,” Sam shook his head.
“A salad is better after all.” said Sami. 
Sam wanted to disagree, but he couldn’t. The two of them dug into the fridge for vegetables and dressings. Finally they both settled on opposite sides of the kitchen table. 
“Is this really how you live?” said Sami, with a dismissive glance at his paper napkin. “Look,” Sam answered. “I’ve done my best. It’s taken a lot to get us this far.”
They both retreated to the comfortable solitude of their phones while they ate. Before too long, they were showing one another new stories, pages, and memes. They began to laugh and relax together. 
It was later, much later, after falling into more than one internet rabbit hole, that Sam and Sami parted, with a promise to go running together tomorrow. 
They met before sunrise at the door of the bunker. Side by side both Sams strode out into the predawn fog. They settled easily into a matching pace. They were one another, after all. As the sun rose, they returned to the bunker.
“Meet me in the shower,” Sam tossed out. 
Sami edged into the shower room soon after. “We didn’t get to bring much when we came from our world to here.” 
“That’s fine, come on,” Sam gestured from under a steamy shower. 
“But, but,” Sami hesitated, “What about our hair?” 
“Our hair?” Sam half turned and held out a bottle of Suave 3 in 1 body wash, shampoo and conditioner. 
Sami cringed, noticeably. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“Why?” asked Sam, “It works just fine.” He shook his head like a puppy, spraying water everywhere in the shower room.
“Ugh,” Sami responded. He rinsed his hair with, notably, just water. 
The two of them made their way to the kitchen. Sam was making a smoothie when Sami appeared. He quickly added his own ideas and suggestions. Most of the fruits and vegetables in the bunker kitchen ended up in the blender before they both enjoyed a post-run drink. 
“So,” said Sam eventually. “I think I’ll go to the library.”
“Or,” Sami rejoined,” We could go to Ulta. Your hair care regimen is positively barbaric. It’s honestly an affront to us all that you manage to look as good as you do.”
Sam shrugged. “Ulta is closed.”
Sami pounced on that. “So you know-?”
“Look, I’m no haircare expert. But basically all that’s open now is Walmart.” 
It took some convincing, but eventually Sam and Sami rolled up to Walmart in the Impala. Sami scoffed before they went in, but Sam silenced him with a hard look. 
The hair care aisle was long, and well stocked. Not all the salon brands Sami was used to, but plenty of good stuff. He kept pointing to bottles that cost $15 or more, while Sam shook his head. 
Finally he broke down in exasperation. “Why, what do you use to make your hair so perfect?”
“I just wash it and then-” Sam tossed his head and his hair settled back in perfect waves around his face. 
“Ugh,” Sami scoffed. “How? That’s so unfair.” 
Sam shrugged. "It’s not like it ever seemed to matter. We were always busy with more urgent things. Like, saving the world."
Sami protested. "But, but, my hair is sacred. It's worth the time and effort."
Eventually the two of them moved on from the shampoo aisle -- basket full -- to the produce section. 
That night for dinner they enjoyed a cold quinoa salad with tomato, cucumber and avocado. Their brothers were off somewhere else, probably trying to find the best takeout cheeseburgers and extra crispy fries in the state. It was oddly peaceful, just the two of them.
After eating, Sami stood up. “We have plenty of time for a hair treatment, now."
Sam looked at him, baffled.
Sami pulled some things out of the Walmart bag. “I know it’s generic, but these deep conditioners are better than nothing.” 
Sam scoffed but finally gave in and combed deep conditioner into his hair before wrapping it in a bag. The final touch was knotting a towel around his head. He laughed, before he looked at Sami. 
His alternate self was taking this so very seriously. Apparently, somewhere out there, was a universe where he pampered himself. Maybe there, everything wasn’t life or death. Maybe there was a place where he could enjoy something as simple as a deep condition. 
Sami pulled up a BBC show on the laptop, something Sam had wanted to watch but never had time for.  It was a little silly and very nerdy. But for the first time in a long time, he caught himself laughing while he watched it. When the first episode was over, Sami nodded towards the showers. 
Sam rinsed and combed and dried his hair. It had never felt more soft, more perfect. More importantly, though, he felt relaxed. He felt like it was okay to take the time on something as frivolous as a hair treatment. Call it “self care,” he thought to himself. 
Sam Winchester woke up with his own fingers pulling his hair. Had it all been a dream? He sat up slowly, a hollow feeling of loss settling in his chest. He shook his head as reality began to sink in.
His last faint trace of hope disappeared the moment he wandered to the kitchen. There was no pile of fresh produce waiting for smoothies, no leftover quinoa salad. None of it had happened. 
The alternate version of Sam and Dean were gone, and with them the sort of life that had time for hair treatments and self care. His universe had no space for indulgences like that. Toes in the sand in Rio was a fantasy, nothing more. 
Sam stumbled into the bunker shower, his thoughts heavy. He should've known it was too good to be true. There wasn't a happy ending for him and Dean, not in this universe. He sighed as he picked up the 3 in 1 body wash, shampoo and conditioner.
He smiled sadly and shook his head. His sense of disappointment went deeper than deep conditioner. He sighed and watched the soapy water swirl down the drain. ...
SPN First Last and Always: @boondoctorwho @dawnie1988 @deanwanddamons @divadinag @flamencodiva @fookinghelljensensthighs @idreamofplaid @kalesrebellion @maddiepants @magssteenkamp @onethirstyunicorn   @the-chocolate-moose  @there-must-be-a-lock @tloveswriting
Sam Girl For Life: @awesomesusiebstuff @lilsylvia @winchesterxfamilybusiness
Dean Curious: @adoptdontshoppets @awesomesusiebstuff @deangirl7695 @deans-baby-momma  @mrsjenniferwinchester @stoneyggirl @supersassyprobablysad @wayward-gypsy @winchesterxfamilybusiness
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a-silent-symphony · 4 years
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INTERVIEW – MARKO HIETALA OF NIGHTWISH
Like any band, Nightwish has a story to tell. Full of ups, downs, frustrations, and triumphs, in reality, few can tell a tale quite like these Fins. Coming at a crossroad at the peak of their success, they made a bold decision, yet landed on their feet. Then a few years later they were faced with yet another difficult choice, and still righted the ship. A testament to comradery between the key members of the band, one of the steadying forces through it all has been Marko Hietala.
Joining up just prior to their 2002 Century Child album, Hietala has become a cornerstone in Nightwish not only on the bass, but also as a leading voice. A signature part of the band’s success over the last two decades, Hietala recently sat down to chat about his time with Nightwish, weathering the storm of challenging times, his other projects, plus a whole lot more.
Cryptic Rock – You have been an intricate part of the Nightwish family for nearly two decades now. Before going any further, tell us, what has your time in Nightwish been like?
Marko Hietala – Woah man! It will actually be two decades next year. It’s probably been the biggest, lasting part of my life that there has been. Of course, there is my older band, Tarot, which we started in the late ’80s and still did things in the 2000s. That was a long lasting thing, but as life goes, Nightwish has made my living. There has been ups and downs as well as joys and sorrows.
Cryptic Rock – You have certainly accomplished a lot with Nightwish. When you came on, you became a very big part of the band right off the bat, particularly with your voice. That addition of your voice added a new dynamic to Nightwish’s music. What was it like initially working with the band and utilizing your voice to the music’s advantage?
Marko Hietala – We started from a pretty good common background; the guys are Karelian and I’m Savonian. There was already that kind of country boy attitude with us. Then when we started, rehearsing and swapping ideas for Century Child (2002), it became really comfortable really fast. We just got along.
Of course, when you have humans, you get drama occasionally, and of course we’ve had those times. In the end we have been pretty honest about troubles and being understanding, and if need be, forgiving. We have a great personal chemistry with this bunch.
Cryptic Rock – It shows. The band has faced adversity and overcome it. Let’s look back for a moment. In 2004, Nightwish released the Once album, which launched the band into a new stratosphere of success. However, shortly after that release, the band parted ways with Tarja Turunen. Looking back 15 years after, was that a stressful time?
Marko Hietala – Yes, it was. Everyone was anxious, restless, and troubled all the time already. We had no connection and we decided, just as the band started to get bigger, we needed to take back our voice in the band. That’s why it happened. It was scary, but it was a thing where we were already eating so much of our own spine; in order to survive we had to amputate. We were already feeling bad about so many things, it was something that had to be done.
We survived until the next few years of troubles, and we still got through it. I said this already in the documentary, but I think we showed an exceptional persistence and group spirit through a lot of times. God damn, I cherish it!
Cryptic Rock – That unity is evident. It all just adds more to the story of Nightwish. The band has settled in nicely in recent years with Floor Jansen. A fantastic addition, what has it been like working with her?
Marko Hietala – She’s brilliant! She’s a powerhouse vocalist who wants to perform, sing, and loves doing shows. I’m pleased with how things are now. Of course some people have been complaining that I’m hanging a little bit more in the shadows now that she is there, but I’m not. I’m doing a shitload of vocals and background harmonies; there are just a good bunch of songs and we do them the best way they will sound.
Cryptic Rock – Understandable. It is about what the music calls for. If the music calls for you to be more upfront and center, then you will be.
Marko Hietala – Indeed. It’s not like I don’t have things to do. I have bass playing, which on some nights with hot lighting, is compared to shoveling in its calorie consummation. (Laughs)
Cryptic Rock – (Laughs) Well you have done a great job. Speaking of new music, Nightwish recently released the epic new album Human. :II: Nature. What was it like putting this record together?
Marko Hietala – There are certain ways we have gotten used to doing things. We had a month and a half of summer camp rehearsal sessions and then started recording. Kai (Hahto) went to a different studio to record the drum bottom tracks because our summer camp didn’t have the space with the proper ambiances for that to be recorded. We then put up the amps/vocal mics and we laid down all the other stuff for the album pretty fast and comfortably.
Of course there was this thing that we started to do, which is apparent on the album, where we had some pretty nice harmony vocal sessions. I have spoke about this a few times, but when we did the Decades Tour, we wanted to do something different for the oldies – so we figured with Troy, me, and Floor that we could do a bunch of live harmonies to beef them up. It sounded so nice that we figured that we could do them more on the album. Tuomas (Holopainen) wrote stuff so we could do those harmonies, and we ended up doing quite a lot of them.
A lot of our barbecue sessions at our summer camp there would be an acoustic guitar or battery-operated keyboard; we would try some lines out, figure out ideas and swap them. I would say Troy and I were writing that stuff mostly, but Tuomas and Floor were also always around so we could test things and see how they went. It was nice.
Cryptic Rock – The end result is quite good. It is a very well-balanced collection of heavier and more somber tracks. What can you tell us about the concept behind the album?
Marko Hietala – I guess if you take human nature, and either two words, separate or combined, the theme is a bit loose. All the songs on the album connect to those things – human or nature, or human nature.
Cryptic Rock – Very interesting. Then there is the second disc, which is predominately all instrumental. Were you apart of the second half of the album at all?
Marko Hietala – I didn’t really work on it. When Tuomas was writing it, he did ask the rest of the band if it was okay to have a classical orchestra for the second half of the album. Basically, the only people who worked there was (Troy Donockley) with some piping and Floor with some vocals.
Cryptic Rock – It is a great addition to the first half of Human. :II: Nature. You also released your solo album, Pyre of the Black Heart, earlier this year. What was the process behind that album?
Marko Hietala – It was a long time dream for a guy like me who writes a lot. When Nightwish had a sabbatical, I called a couple of friends of mine to work on the album; there was Tuomas Wäinölä on guitar and Vili Oillila on keyboards, who I have known 10-15 years. I had this idea this album was not going to drop into a straight Heavy Metal box, but that it was going to be more Prog Rock or Hard Rock with Metal in between. They helped me finalize the arrangements.
Tuomas Wäinölä also ended up recording and producing most of the album. It turned out to be an inside project with me and those guys. Then we ended up hiring a drummer who we also knew, Anssi Nykänen. As a result of the making of the album it started to grow into a band. We actually had a little tour in February before everything closed out. It was really great, a lot of people liked it and we had a lot of wide grins in the audience.
We also did a Finnish version of the album. About half and half of the songs were written in Finish or English. I just had to crisscross translating them to get both albums out.
Cryptic Rock – Very cool! It really turned out well. You have offered your talents to many other bands through the years. To name a few, you have worked with Eternal Tears of Sorrow, To/Die/For, Charon, etc. Do you enjoy collaborating with others?
Marko Hietala – Yea. When I was in my twenties I got to be an apprentice recording engineer. That is why I was sitting in the studio and helping people out. I was also doing a lot of studio vocal work; both coaching, arranging, and singing harmonies. It had been an interest of mine, but I do have to say lately I have been putting the brakes down. (Laughs) At some point in time I was doing so much work it started to lose its point. These days, I try to very basically keep it to projects who I am friends with and whose music interests me.
Cryptic Rock – Understandable, you do not want to spread yourself too thin.
Marko Hietala – Yes, but also, interesting things are interesting. A couple of years back, for the first time, I did a Modern Classical thing with Ayreon. There were a lot of words, melodies, keys, tempo, and time signature that was changing all the time. I have to say before the premier I was crapping my pants, but I pulled myself together and it went well.
Cryptic Rock – It sounds like that was an exciting new challenge. Obviously we are in the midst of this worldwide pandemic. It is hard to tell what tomorrow will bring, but is Nightwish going to resume touring when they can?
Marko Hietala – We have had cancellations for the summer festival. We were also supposed to go to China in April. We are trying to move some things to 2021. The Central European tour, it should be sometime next fall, it’s still open. With the summer festivals, it seems like we are watching dominoes fall.
Cryptic Rock – It is unfortunate. Hopefully we can return to some sense of normalcy soon.
Marko Hietala – I agree, but what can you do? It’s a god damn virus, you cannot reason with it. This is the situation. Although, we have the album out and hopefully people are getting to listen to it. Hopefully we get to see each other some time in the future. I love doing shows and I’m really bummed out that we have no shows. It would have been really great to go out there and start doing it together. After all, there are vibes involved when you build up that bubble for people, yourself, and your bandmates. When you do it together, it’s a vibe that you are hooked to… at least I am.
Cryptic Rock – Yes, a lot of people are hooked to those vibes. Last question. If you are a fan of Horror and Sci-Fi films, what are some of your favorites?
Marko Hietala – In Science Fiction, a film that went kind of under the radar was Predestination (2014). It has a brilliant time travel story. Of course everyone knows Interstellar (2014), which was big and great. Europa Report (2013) was also great as well.
Horror is more problematic for me, because I can’t be scared anymore. Netflix’s The Haunting of Hill House was pretty good.
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nidhoggssoultrap · 4 years
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Headcanon Part 4
I am the storm sent to wake you from your dream.My "Headcanon" (Nidhogg, Louie, and Yvette. Mostly Nidhogg) Part 1 This one is a long one, so I'll be splitting it into parts. I don't thinkI AM THE STORM SENT TO WAKE YOU FROM YOUR DREAM.
Headcanons/Vingettes/snippets part 2Oh lordy...this is it. Love Nikki has the longest list of headcanons EVER...or well, that I’ve written. Jesus...never thought a dress-up gamI AM THE STORM SENT TO WAKE YOU FROM YOUR DREAM.
Headcanon Part 3Dress up game...one character...inspired all this...wow. But, I was able to dig up some old “flames” because of this, so it’s all good. PrevI AM THE STORM SENT TO WAKE YOU FROM YOUR DREAM.
And now, page 4. I don’t think this record will ever be surpassed by any other fandom. Geez..Also, spoilers for the CN Dawn Front event that happened around Sept 15th.
1. When it comes to the human trafficking for Grey Raven situation, there is plenty of blame to go around. I believe that because Regent 7 is found necessary, Grey Raven has a lot more leverage in the Night Order than he should. Both Reid and Nidhogg balked at the idea the way Johnny Lawrence did when his sensei told him to “Sweep the leg” in the Karate Kid. Both used arguments similar to what I used in the Discord along with Reid saying that he has plenty of money for clothes/designers to use as a means of breaking the Curse through Styling Contests. However, Grey Raven was successful at manipulating both of them to gather prisoners and use them for his experiments/more Shade people. “Are you not the King of Swords?” Grey Raven asked. Nidhogg makes it clear that he would only do this when Regent 7 no longer works and “not a moment before”. Guess what conveniently happened? So, Nidhogg gives the order to send prisoners to Grey Raven. The Blood Curse mutates to resist any drug to counteract it, but it’s still convenient for Grey Raven, who has ulterior motives.
He actually has the GALL to blame Louie for this. The Nameless Knights hold the key to breaking the Blood Curse so the kidnappings for Grey Raven could have been prevented if Louie would simply give up the Key/NOT destroy shipments of Regent 7. I predict that someone in the Night Order(most likely Nidhogg) will use the victims as leverage against Louie in order to obtain the Key.
2. Speaking of Louie, when he rescued someone from the “holding camps”/Grey Raven, he was beside himself with rage. You could have heard him on another planet and he was especially vocal when fingers were pointed at him.
3. Nidhogg has pursued Louie twice by car. First instance, Louie tells him “you’re not man enough for me and even if you were, I WON’T STICK MY DICK IN CRAZY” before speeding off. Second time was after Louie rescues a victim who “lived among fields of gold.” The second time is where Louie goes off on him and he has other people in a “three way call”/eavesdrop. He knows that people might think he is crazy, but since the trafficking has become widespread with many escapees/whistleblowers, he is certain that people won’t easily believe that “it’s all made up”.
4. Grey Raven loves teasing Nidhogg. His other hobbies include slamming fingers in car doors and setting his hair on fire. Anyway, he views Nidhogg’s conscience as a “taint” and tells him often that “I can change that. I can make it go away. Things would be much easier then.” Nidhogg constantly refuses saying that “I am strong enough to bear the burden.” However, he admits only to himself that he has been tempted to let Gray Raven take away all feeling/conscience, but knew that doing so would mean losing a lot more.
5. Confession Bear: Grey Raven is a riot and I ADORE him. I don’t quite ship him with Nidhogg, but I love the teasing and Grey Raven being very much aware of the leverage he has in the Order.
6. The reason why Nidhogg killed Lunar was because Grey Raven wanted her for experiments as a means of getting back at Louie for ruining his reputation. He intended to make sure that she suffered immensely before making her into a “better version of Shade.” Nidhogg made it clear “that is not going to happen.” Since Louie claimed the body, Grey Raven would be hard pressed to find it, much less take it for himself.
7. The Night Order is on the hunt for butterfly jewelry. So is Nikki. Louie has one of the butterfly items(his veil), but that wasn’t made by Sayet. Still, he’s not surprised that Night Order would want it.
8. Louie has a lot of white wigs and some of them make him look more beautiful than he already is. But, like Griffith, he has the “hawk eye” along with a hard edge when provoked. The difference is that Louie’s temperament is well, a bit more hot and he can be frightening to witness. He has an astonishing amount of clothes and a lot of that is due to Blue Bird packages sent by Lunar. He tried to “ghost her”, but found that he couldn’t. He often joked about changing the name of the Nameless Knights.
9. He has two lieutenants: a young woman and a young man. Both are considered “voices of reason” to Louie’s occasional outbursts.
10. The trafficking situation is where everything started to “slip away” for Nidhogg and finally decided to do what needed to be done to gain the “great power.”
11. There were multiple whistleblowers in the trafficking and not one of them were found out. It is, however, known that they were appalled at what was happening and blew the whistle as soon as they had the chance. Everyone has their limits.
12. Louie didn’t ultimately leave because of the “kiss”, but because he didn’t want to go to Lilith to help with Nidhogg’s plans and he was not about to defer to Nidhogg. At first, they argued about it with Louie being shut down. He appeared “deferential”, but on the day they were supposed to leave, Louie packed up his things and left to become a mercenary—something Nidhogg never approved of him doing.
Louie was the one who tore up the picture of him and Nidhogg and left a torn half on the bed. That’s what Nidhogg came home to and it devastated him as he felt very much betrayed(ironic considering what he later on did in Lilith/Yvette).
13. Louie hated the fact that Nidhogg seemed to conflate understanding with agreement and repeatedly called him on, especially at the final car chase. He went so far as to call Nidhogg, “A victim piece of shit!” and that he was understood “ALL TOO WELL!” That’s the CHARITABLE way to put it. Please keep in mind that the drama between these two men were in front of a young woman, three teenage girls(Bobo was actually with them. I made a booboo in one of the parts) and a talking cat.
14. While a lot of what Louie claimed about Nidhogg was largely true, it doesn’t change my headcanon “fact” that he had a distorted view of his adopted brother. According to Reid, Louie was “blinded by hate”. ALL of the Night Order viewed Louie as the greatest threat with Nikki at a very close second(really, it’s Nikki, but Louie has a louder personality, a stronger Dawnblade, and ties to Nidhogg). They found it baffling that Nidhogg was willing to kill Nikki, but not Louie. After all, Nidhogg is “The King of Swords”, right?
15. Liliana was supposed to be the “alternative bunny” if Yvette didn’t work out. He wanted to take Liliana instead of Yvette, but the former was deemed “unacceptable.” Liliana would have been way more cooperative as she wasn’t fond of styling contests either and didn’t like the Blood Curse either as she felt that Styling Contests were imposed on everyone, regardless of their ability. Those with other talents were basically screwed unless they had support from those with “the clothes”. As for the Blood Curse, she has been affected by it on more than one occasion due to her constant misgivings about how disputes on Miraland are settled and the occasional refusal to do what is required should she lose. She loves Yvette’s school and appreciates the non violent revolution Yvette is leading.
16. This is really more of an odd theory, but I think that Hostess L may have been a Nikki lookalike who was part of the Nameless Knights, hence her name. Because of this, the Nameless Knights have “the key to the Blood Curse” if not one of them. I actually came up with this quite suddenly. Would be an interesting twist for sure and it would explain the suit she was wearing when she won(black dress with a sun pendant).
17. Despite what the current Lore says, I still consider Nidhogg a Scorpio. I have him born on November 13th(number of the Tarot Death). He shares the same birthday as Leatherstrip(industrial/ebm musician), ftr. Coincidence. Also, this year, it falls on Friday the 13th. But, since I still adore him, I guess he gets two Bdays. :) He really should have been an Air sign though. Gemini would have been perfect, especially since Bobo is currently the only one.
18. I also hold on to Nidhogg being 4 years older than Louie. At least I got the OLDER part right. :p I just fee like being under 30 is too young, but too much into the 30’s would be too old. 31 is just right, imo.
19. Before the black Camaro(aka, Maro) and the white Mustang(White Horsey), Nidhogg and Louie shared a Jeep. It was known as a “Rubicon” or “Rubi”. When Louie left, Nidhogg drove in that jeep to Lilith and Pigeon. He ended up eventually giving away for “image” reasons. He purchased the Camaro right before he became Prime Minister.
20. Glossing Rose was inspired by an abstract art piece done by Liliana. When he first arrived at Cicia Design School, Liliana, who was around 11 at the time, was among the first people he met and he knew her for years. He was accused of stealing from her when the Pink Bunny stockings were introduced “That’s not his style!” He admitted that they were inspired by one of Liliana’s drawings and she often was an inspiration. Emperor’s Woman, otoh, is clearly his actual design style and he does have a similar suit. He never actually stole from her nor did he ever claim credit for any of her works.
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thelastpilot · 5 years
Text
Oh, Good Morning. -Adrino One-Shot 3k
Different way, different place, different time. Same story. 
While not inherently connected, the first version (of a different tone) was here
Oh, were you gonna finish that?
‘Hey’
That’s all it would take, but it seemed completely insurmountable for some reason. It was the act of taking a distant stranger and maybe putting a name to his face and his commute and his odd jackets and his seemingly unflappable belief that cold weather was for other people. It would be crossing the street and taking some random guy firmly from the safety of anonymity and making him someone when Adrien had already gone to great lengths to make him someone else, someone too far away to embarrass himself in front of.  
Just some guy at the bus stop, behind a pane of glass, a café patio and two lanes of a street, waiting to go to work. Just like every single day for the past five months.
Yeah see that was another hurdle, how long its been, because now certainly it had been way too long for Adrien to do anything now when he hadn’t done anything before. Wouldn’t it break the routine now? For ‘that guy in the café’ to actually cross the street and say something to him like a person?
Adrien set his cup down a little rougher than he needed to, sighing in an entirely self-produced frustration.
He sat up, stretching his back against the wooden back of his usual chair, made bulky by his thick coat left hanging from it till he felt brave enough to go back out into the cold again (after the bus passed, obviously. He never left beforehand, which frustrated him, again.) His table and chair and coffee weren’t all really his but there was that silent agreement that came from a usual routine that the world kind of respected. Sometimes someone else might be in his seat but for the most part Adrien got to spend a few minutes every morning warming his hands on an okay cup of coffee before he went to work, sitting in the same chair in the corner next to the window facing the street.
He used this place because it had been the closest to his apartment, and because it was warm on the inside and on his way to the metro. And because the prices were fine… and because of a bus stop. Well that last part hadn’t really been a thing at first, not that it was anything really but it was a factor against Adrien trying the new coffee shop that had opened just below his apartment.
He had argued to himself that he liked his usual place, with the warm seats and the familiar smell of over-roasted coffee and the quiet hum of a radio left on in the back. It was a standard place that sometimes kept him fed or at least kept him awake, and the owner already knew his order so it was easier to just stay, probably.
Adrien looked down, pulling at his sweater a little as he moodily glared at his coffee. It was no better or worse than it usually was, but in the moment he kind of resented it for not being outstanding. If it had been a fantastic cup of coffee, the best cup of coffee in the city then he’d have a little bit more of a justification for always sitting right there, right near the window, with his great morning cup of coffee. It would be a reasonable way to start the day, instead of glancing out at the street, waiting for another habitual commuter to make his bus on time.
Adrien looked to his right, peering through the window and watching the foot traffic, annoyed with himself again. He was annoyed because he actually needed to be at work early today, but he wasn’t going as early as he could because he was actively waiting for him, which is what made this stupid. Just some guy he saw every morning. Smiling at and waving to him is one thing, but actually being late because of a guy he’s never even talked to? Pathetic.
Still hadn’t left though, he noticed.
 Adrien glanced over the street, watching people in thick dark colored coats and scarves hurry to where they needed to be or cling to warm little shops like his. His café was more populated then usual this morning, some people just standing in the doorway for a minute to check their phones.
It wasn’t bitterly cold, it wasn’t snowing or anything, but the chill was still enough to make his okay cup of coffee a little more appealing. The streets were light and anyone around had a destination in mind, it was not the kind of morning for milling around.
It was a morning for commuters.
Adrien stopped, his eyes catching on someone as they turned the corner. He was looking down, but Adrien recognized the familiar backpack and leisurely walk right away, and he nearly smiled before he noticed the hoodie.
It was cold, but here he was again in a thin, dark grey hoodie like he always wore. It was one of his more usual items regardless of the weather, but he never adjusted. He didn’t even have a scarf, the only mark that maybe the cold was getting to him was that he had swapped his hat for a beanie, but Adrien was frowning anyways as the man made his way to the bus stop.
 Adrien’s morning, nameless companion found his seat at around the same time he always did, every morning. He would show up at the stop about 10-15 minutes early, lounging on the bench by himself most of the time since the street itself was pretty small and they were far off from the center of the city, and then wait patiently for his bus to arrive so he could go, presumably to work. This was an assumption, as was everything else about him, seeing as Adrien had never actually spoken to the man. The only connection they ever had, was at about this time every morning,
Where he glanced up and across the street.
 Adrien froze, a little caught out to have already been looking at him, like he had been waiting. But it was too late to glance away now, to play with his phone or drink his coffee to pretend he had otherwise been occupied. The man had already seen him.
The stranger smiled, his white teeth a stark contrast against his dark skin as he adjusted in his seat, moving his backpack to sit beside him as he usually did though he did not break eye contact. His dark rimmed glasses were low on his nose, and he pushed them up to maybe see him a little more clearly though there was a distance between them. Details were always lost, but Adrien could see that his hair was sort of a mess this morning, and he was entertained by the thought that maybe the switch to a deep red beanie was actually because his hair looked ridiculous, not because he was actually cold or anything.
He was a broad shouldered, tall man (fit too, as Adrien had learned when the weather was still warm), his outfits always changing but staying within the same range of simple t-shirts, jeans and ill-equipped jackets. He also always had his headphones on him, sometimes around his neck or sometimes already being listened to, playing some music genre that Adrien had to guess at, with no real clues or indications.
He always wondered anyways though, even if he could never know for sure if he was right or not.
Adrien lifted a hand to give him a small wave, smiling too as they greeted each other. The bus stop guy gave him a wave as well, settling in to wait now.
Adrien knew he only had a few more seconds to drag it out if he wanted to, knowing that once he glanced away they would return to their own spaces. So before he could, Adrien gestured down, raising an eyebrow (a small enough expression that he wasn’t sure if it would read across the street) and then he reached behind him, drawing the mans attention to Adrien’s own warm jacket.
It was small and quick as Adrien kept smiling, but it was easy to ask without words ‘What are you wearing? Aren’t you cold?’
The man paused, looking surprised before glancing down, one hand pulling at the pocket of his hoodie before he looked up, shrugging, both hands up as if to say, ‘I don’t know, its fine.’
Adrien just shook his head, taking a sip of his okay coffee and was happy to see the man laugh. He couldn’t help but smile into his cup as he watched him.
He was surprised to see that the man kept watching him too for a moment, still looking his way as he took an extended drink. A few cars passed between them, the street cold and distant and filled with other people they might have seen every day. Maybe all these dark jackets and blank faces were also daily commuters, ducking into cafes and businesses and making this street as much their space as anyone else’s, but neither of them knew for sure.
They’d never paid attention to the others before.
Adrien only realized he was stuck in the moment when the man finally glanced away, looking down at his phone. It occurred to him that he should probably look away as well, turning towards the interior of the café without really seeing it, frustration steeping again as he realized his daily ‘conversation’ was now over.
That’s what he waited for? A smile and a wave hello, a point of contact shallower than small talk. But he would rather he had it then gone early; he knew that.
He fought the urge to sink into his chair, knowing the man could still see him if he looked up (which he did sometimes), but he couldn’t help but lean over his cup a little, staring down at it. He tried to talk himself out of harassing himself, and he also tried to talk himself out of getting so attached to a familiar stranger, but neither ever got him to move.
He was frustrated by a handful of things about all this
He was annoyed by the fact that this was about the best he ever seemed to do when it came to meeting people these days. A non-negative association at a great distance with very little risk, how exciting. He used to be more social, so he thought, a little better at making friends and putting himself out there. But after a few scattered heartbreaks and a handful of missteps he found himself staring at a dark, slowly cooling cup of coffee wondering at how bad he was at this. He liked to think he was bold enough to cross the street, to finally put a name to a handsome face and maybe say something charming.
Maybe buy him a cup of coffee, maybe ask what he did for a living.
Maybe, maybe, maybe. But no, never. Least, not for about five months in a row now.
He grit his teeth, looking in at the café counter, looking in towards the tables and the decorations and the few dirty plates people had left behind. He looked in, and away, and then out the window, his expression still heavy as he hardly made it a minute without looking.
And he froze again, the man already watching him.
Adrien stiffened, noticing immediately that the man wasn’t smiling. A car passed between them, but neither of them took the opportunity to look elsewhere, and Adrien was stunned to see the man make a gesture of his own.
He pointed forward, right at Adrien across the street and across the patio and through the pane of glass, still looking at him with an expression too subtle to see from this far. And then he touched his index finger and his thumb together in a circle, the other fingers fanning out above it, the message clear and simple.
‘You okay?’
Adrien was frozen stock still as he took in the question, and the concern that came along with it. He must have been obvious, his spiraling thoughts displayed in his posture somehow… and the man noticed. He must have been staring the entire time, not having lost the silent conversation Adrien had been mourning, holding on to it still and waiting for him to look up again.
To make eye contact so he could ask.
Adrien felt his face heat up as he gripped his coffee cup tighter, embarrassed suddenly and unsure of himself but not looking away, the man tilting his head just slightly, waiting for an answer of some kind. But it wasn’t something he could or even would try and pantomime in these weird distant talks they had, to explain what even? It was nothing, but the familiar stranger still asked, and still stared, even as another car darted between them and blocked their eyeline.
He had to admit it was sort of exciting, which was exponentially more pathetic and insane. Being even remotely delighted that the man reached out again just made this dumb exercise even worse, but he accepted that he was just too invested to ignore him.
So after a long, silent moment, as all their moments were, he shrugged. Exaggerated enough for the man to see, but his annoyance with himself forced his eyes down, and the moment ended.
He didn’t look up again, sighing so heavily that it sent a ripple across the surface of his coffee.
Maybe he was being hard on himself, but the fact that a handsome stranger’s concern was the closest thing to an intimate moment he had had in two years was a little discouraging. And it was just the kind of cold, lonely morning for that sort of thing. Overanalyzing everything over an okay cup of coffee.
He closed his eyes and sighed again, running a hand through his hair as he let the chilly morning finally claim his mood. His early start at work slipped steadily away and he committed to loitering, though he wondered if the man was staring still. Over the next three or so minutes he resisted the urge to peek, feeling a little too much like a loser to allow his little morning routine, but his resolve wavered at about the fourth minute. By then he had reasoned with himself that oh well, you’re already lame, just look. The difference a minute could make.
When he glanced up his heart sank a little, confusion filling the empty space on the bench. Adrien sat up a little and scanned the street, the man’s seat unexpectedly vacant despite the fact that…
Surely the bus hadn’t come. He always heard it, the bus wasn’t exactly quiet, especially not on such a little street. Honestly it was a miracle it even came down this way, holding up everything whenever it did, but of course he was grateful that it was there. It was never a very crowded bus and obviously not a very popular line, but that’s where the stranger sat. So he liked that it was there.
His moping couldn’t have drowned that out, but still the man was gone.
He stared at the spot unabashedly now, looking around for him and wondering where he went. To work, maybe, as he should do. But didn’t.
The cafe door opening sent an uncomfortable rush of cold air into the space, all of its higher-than-average volume of patrons leaning away from it moodily, not that Adrien looked. He had settled the weight of his head on one hand, staring out vacantly towards an old, empty bus stop. He lifted his cup and took a long drink, resolving to leave once it was finished, when quite suddenly, out of nowhere, there was a tap on his shoulder.
Adrien jumped a little, not expecting someone from the outside world to come breaking into his, cup still half raised to his lips as he turned. The first thing he saw was a hoodie, having not nailed the eyeline on the first glance. He still wasn’t quite up to the persons face by the time they started apologizing, their voice deep and a little nervous sounding as they laughed through their “Sorry! Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
Adrien was staring at his face as the tall stranger continued to ramble, as if the momentum of his sentence gave him no place to stop and the words would bunch up and fall apart if he hesitated. The stranger mussed with his hair as he did, displacing his deep red beanie. It was old, Adrien noticed. With a snag near the edge.
He wondered when that might have happened. Or had it always been there, and he had been too far away to notice.
“I know that maybe this is a little weird,” the man was saying, the unexpected bass tone to his voice rattling pieces of Adrien’s mental image and sorting others into place. “Maybe I’m breaking some like cardinal rule like, you’re never really supposed to engage you’re just supposed to exist like, parallel to each other forever and you never say much. Or anything. But I don’t know maybe I’m not maybe there is no rule and I just made that up cause I overthink a lot. And I know it’s sort of simple and I know I’m gonna like, miss my bus, but you seemed kind of down and um…,” the stranger paused,
and Adrien noticed for the first time that his eyes… were nearly gold.
He laughed, just a little, and like nearly an afterthought, like introducing himself seemed unnecessarily to someone he really didn’t know but had just become so familiar, he gave an awkward little smile.
“Well uh, hey.”
   And just a little out of breath, just a little.
He said, “Hey.”
 It’s you.
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phantomphangphucker · 5 years
Text
Fenton Is That Broken Character
If we’re honest, Danny is insanely OP
“What you up to dad?”, Jack looks up as his son walks in the front door. He still can’t help but marvel at how he’s turned out. Sure education and lifestyle wise he was definitely lacking, but he had a presence. Taller than Jack now and muscular, but still clearly a kind soul. Even if he seemed determined to never have a job or leave home at this point. But there could always be hunting in his future, pretty lucrative thing nowadays. Plus, Jack enjoyed still having him around and he did seem happy. Even if he was aloof and paranoid, but Jack knew that was partly because Amity warranted being cautious and his son was extremely unusual.
Tapping on some papers, “finishing up that ghost ordering system. Think I’ve finally got all the appropriate classes down pat. Care to give your old man a unique view?”. Danny chuckles as he nods. Jack’s glad his son has opened up more to theories, still clearly hates pretty much every invention for some reason though.
“The one through six classing is still pretty well the same but I’ve settled on the different related power levels. Though honestly, I hope no level thirties actually exist”, tapping on the paper.
Classes:
1: non-threat - ignorable (1-3)
2: pseudo-threat - should be captured but no hurry. (4, 5)
3: mild threat - capture immediately, potential danger. (6)
4: threat - break out the anti-ghost gear, deal with quickly. Engage with extreme caution. (7-15)
5: major threat - bring out specialty weapons and only engage if absolutely necessary. (16-19)
6: WARNING: apocalyptic threat - do not engage, run. (20+)
“Now I know the GIW rated Phantom at seven, six years ago, but I doubt he’s still a seven now. Blob ghosts are always three or less and I’ll be disappointed if the Box Ghost is higher than a 5”, Jack and Danny both snicker, clearly agreeing. Danny taps on class 6, “and I’d say Mr. Floaty face was 6 for sure”.
The two spend around an hour throwing out random ghosts and placing most of them. Jack chuckles, “honestly, not even going to really try to place Phantom for sure. We know for sure he was at least a four near when he first popped up. Clearly stronger than he used to be so I really wouldn’t be surprised if he’s a five now”. Danny nods and Jack’s quite pleased with himself over that. His son always seems to just know things when it comes to ghosts. Fenton genius he’s sure.
“I’d say at least five, likely close to six or a six. He’s stronger than he’s given credit for, I think. Basically a walking broken enigma”
“Part of me hopes you’re wrong but if I’d want any ghost to be so powerful, it’d be Phantom”, Jack really is glad for coming to a truce with the spook years ago. Smiling as he catches Danny’s soft smile and what almost seems like a blush? This is his favourite aspect of the Phantom truce, that it clearly makes his son very happy, which makes Jack happy. Even if he doesn’t get why his son can be so ghost friendly, even his opinion of flat out dangerous ghosts are somewhat fond, oddly.
Jack’s sitting at the table when he can’t help but ponder about how his son seems to set off ghost stuff all the time. Wondering if maybe, Danny might just have a self-sustaining ectoplasmic field, like a ghost, as a result of his accident; rather than just oddly prolonged ectoplasmic contamination. Because no way should he still be contaminated from the accident after six years. After all, he was pretty much shocked by the entirety of the zone, even if he clearly downplays it.
But Jack’s not really worried about this because if it caused Danny issues he would have said something, right? Plus, Jack is pretty much sure his son can sense ghosts, which he’s actually a little glad for and he’ll admit to feeling a little guilty over once or twice using him to tell if there was a ghost nearby, because of his sons' reaction. Yes, he noticed the fogging breath and how Danny would instantly start looking around for the ghost/becoming more aware. Kind of hard to not notice. So really his son is like a walking ghost senor, and how cool is that? Jack will never have to worry about some foul ecto-scum sneaking up on his son, and imagine how useful that’ll be when he becomes a hunter! He is a Fenton after all, ghost hunting is just what Fentons’ do.
So as Jack watched his son eat cereal, Jack covertly turns on the device he’s been fiddling with. He’s honestly surprised it’s taken him so long to sit down and build something to rank and class a particular ghosts power and threat levels. Not surprised in the slightest that it senses Danny as an ectoplasmic entity. So Jack selects his son on screen, fully expecting a reading of 1 or 2, and after a few seconds, the thing starts smoking and explodes.
Jack blinks only slightly shocked as Danny jumps a bit, from the explosion. Danny barely misses a beat before chuckling, “another prototype bites the dust huh?”. Jack’s not quite sure why his son blinks a bit and pulls a face before speaking again, “uh, so what’s this one supposed to do? Gots a weird vibe to it”.
Jack’s face lights up a bit, always eager to talk ghosts or explain some new invention, “Well son! It’s supposed to read ghosts power levels and how to best handle them! If we’ve finally settled on rankings, only makes sense to find a more definitive way to do the rankings”. Danny rubs his neck a bit sheepishly, but smiles playfully, “and let me guess, like usual, I set it off or something”. Jack taps on one of the burnt pieces that aren’t on the floor, “which is very strange son but yes. I wouldn’t worry though! Even though it definitely read you as having an ecto-field, looks like it was attempting to put out a reading too! I’m guessing that caused an error, malfunctioned. Seeing as you’re not actually a ghost”.
Jack watches his son chuckle heartily as he puts away his dishes, “well sorry about the tech dad, and yeah nothing to worry about. I may be weird, but I’m perfectly fine”. Jack can tell he means it as he watches his son head out the door.
Groaning a little and staring sadly at the burnt pieces as he starts cleaning up the mess. “Oh?”, Jack feels almost giddy when he finds the heavily smashed screen, as he sees that it actually did manage to get a reading on his son. Wiping it off, Jack’s face squints in confusion as he reads the results:
“PL: subdued: overload”
“Class: error”
“Title: ghost king”
“Okay? The subdued section is perfectly expected. After all Danny-boy isn’t a ghost so he wouldn’t have access to his ectoplasmic field. Even if he really shouldn’t have one at all”, shaking his head at the screen, “but overload? That makes no sense? He’d have to be over 15 and even for an actual ghost that is incredibly high”. Jack claps his hands together as an idea hits him, “maybe it’s because he’s not a ghost, so this little guy really can’t get a proper reading at all! Maybe Danny’s field doesn’t even follow normal rules at all! That explains the error class too! Only way to know is to rule out the other option!”.
Jack smiles knowing full well he’s going to spend the day building a better version, or at least one that can sense higher levels. Shaking his head at the screen again, “and I’m just dismissing this whole “ghost king” title, only ghosts actually have titles so that’s obviously a malfunction”.
As Jack tinkers away, he can’t help but feel more worried than curious at this point, “if the strange readings were really because of a malfunction than “subdued” should have appeared messed up as well. Heck! All of it should have showed error or overload”.
Frowning a little as he hears the front door open, no doubt that’s his son. With Jazz away and Maddie at home all day, there really isn’t another person it could be. Rubbing at the smooth metal of the device as he puts on some finishing touches. Smacking it lightly in triumph as it turns on, “now this baby will certainly at least go up to level 30! Too bad it actually has to be touching a ghost field to work though”. Glancing at the stairs and shrugging, “well I’ll just have to ask Danny-boy, I’m sure he’d be curious”.
Jack heads up slowly after he hears Maddie leave, he knows how skittish his son can be and he doesn’t want him to feel ganged up on. Sticking his head out the lab door just in time to catch Danny heading to his room, “afternoon! Could you come to the living room with me?”. Noticing Danny looking a bit on edge near instantly, “you’re not in trouble son. Just some worries and theories I want to bounce off you”. Jack’s glad that seems to ease his son up a fair bit, but as he sits down Jack notices him tense a bit at the device. That’s a thing about his son that worries him, it’s almost like he’s cautious or mistrustful of all inventions.
“It’s an improved version of the one from this morning”, Jack wiggles it a bit only barely catching that Danny looks more, not less, uncomfortable. Sighing and facing his son, “I found the readout screen from the one this morning after you left. Definitely malfunctioned, weird readings, error messages, the works. But you clearly have an ecto-field, son. And you really really shouldn’t, so I’d like to test you again”. Jack can’t help but lower his voice more and more while speaking, as he noticed Danny looking more and more uncomfortable.
“Er, Whatever happened to that ecto-contamination theory? Field seems more unlikely”, Jack can tell by how his son is curled up a bit and moving his eyes around a lot, that he’s looking for a way out of this. Jack really doesn’t get why his son wouldn’t want whatever information they could get, maybe even figure out what exactly the problem is.
“Ecto-contamination can’t last for six years, so that theory went out the window. That leaves either a field or something undiscovered... Are you really so put off by our stuff that you’d rather not know?”, Jack can’t help but wince as Danny looks legitimately hurt and guilty over that last statement. He hadn’t meant to guilt trip him, he’s just worried and curious; but mostly worried now, “son, I don’t mean to push. It’s just, I’m worried. This is more than weird, I know it’s clear you’re not actively being harmed by whatever this is. But how can I be sure it’s not doing something long term, if no one even has a clue what’s going on?”. Now Danny just looks more worried and that was not the goal, so Jack just keeps talking, “I’m not very good at this “worried parent so please confide in me or test something” thing, I know. I’m not worried because this is strange, i just want to know you’re ok and just how much this has affected you. I know it’s not just setting off our stuff”. Jack blinks, a bit thrown off at how his son stiffens and stares at him, eyes clearly filled with paranoia. So Jack aims for soothing or at least compliments or something, “honestly the ghost sensor thing is downright neat. No clue how you can tell but it’s still cool. And so long as it doesn’t hurt you, then it is for sure cool”.
Jack mentally cheers as Danny does indeed seem slightly more relaxed as he responds, “how long? How long have you known about that? And um, thanks?”. Jack chuckles softly, “few years now, your breath would fog up for no obvious reason and you’d start looking around or leave the area. Then a ghost would show, hard to ignore pattern there, Danny-boy”. Jack watches, a little amused as Danny rubs his neck sheepishly. Poking Danny’s other hand as he speaks up again, “the other thing I’ve noticed is your skin is always cold. Way colder than anyone’s really should be, but you never seem cold so I assume it’s fine. Plus I imagine it makes dealing with hot weather a breeze!”.
“Er, opposite really. Hot weather sucks, cold weathers nice. But I’m fine, honest”. Jack can tell he means it but, “well I’m glad you feel fine, son. But how can we really be sure? Any bit of information really would help”. Jack taps on the device, hoping to get a yes this time.
Jack watches Danny’s eyes flick from him, to the device, and back to him, “so me being... a bit ghost-like is...cool?”. Jack really hadn’t thought of it as ghost-like but he guesses his son has a point there. Ecto-field, ghost detection, being cold; yeah those could all be seen as ghostie things. Jack nods at his son, “so long as this strangeness isn’t harming you, I don’t see how it wouldn’t be cool”.
Jack is almost startled at how Danny seems to near instantly and completely relax, even grinning rather wide as he sits up straight, “well I guess I can’t deny cool discoveries then”. Jack can’t help but be giddy even as Danny shuffles awkwardly, “how exactly does it work though?”.
“This one needs to actually be touching an ecto-field to work, sadly. But! Just touching it should work the same for you!”
“Sounds kind of like you could only check the willing then. Which kind of sounds like you made it with me in mind”, Jack can feel the suspicion in his sons' voice. Jack grins goofily though, “well of course, after that other one gave such a weird reading. I needed to know, more out of worry son. If you have an ecto-field, it should be really small and should have been easy for the previous one to read. But since that one only went halfway up the scale, the only way to really rule out the field theory is to use one that could get a reading on even the strongest of fields”. Jack feels quite satisfied with his explanation, even if Danny seems, of all things, bashful. Danny rubs his neck as he responds, “so what if I just have, like a strong one, what then?”.
“Then I guess you just do. Just more information to have and every bit helps! And who knows! Maybe a strong field might be keeping some ghosties away! Though it really should be impossible”, Jack’s not sure what about that was funny but he’s not going to complain as Danny nods and holds out his hand.
It only takes the machine a few seconds to work, though Jack has a feeling that his son can actually feel it checking him or something. Based on the odd facial expressions anyway, more worried that it might actually be hurting his son than reading the results, “it’s not hurting you is it?”.
“No, no I’m fine. Weird not painful or anything. Kind of like something is sucking on my skin, if that makes any sense”, Jack chuckles a bit, glad to know he’s not inadvertently harming Danny. He really does wonder if some of their stuff does. Shaking his head, he checks out the results:
PL: subdued: 23
⚠️Class: 6
Title: ghost king
Jack’s a bit too confused to notice Danny having a mild freak out and staring at the title section, “wow son, freaky strong it is. Again that should be impossible but I guess not”. Jack laughs a little, “that could probably actually scare a lot of ghosts! Fearing a Fenton as it should be!”. Tapping at the screen, “the rest makes zero sense though, again. Error made more sense than class six, especially with being subdued? And again with the title?”.
“Well couldn’t, couldn’t that just because of the power level thing?”, Jack shakes his head. Looking at his clearly a bit startled son, “that’s the main factor yes but to get the highest class you’d have to have more than just a strong field. Apocalypse level is just for those with insanely destructive powers, are near impossible for any human or ghost to defeat and more than likely can’t be caught or destroyed”.
Danny glances back at the screen as he responds, “so ridiculously overpowered, like a broken video game character”. Jack can’t help but laugh at that, “yes son, that’s a pretty fair comparison”. Shaking his head, “you must have some insane untapped potential or you have an ability that is very dangerous. Both are a bit concerning. The only other option is that you’re already extremely powerful and have a dangerous power. Which is just confusing”. Shaking his head more, “then there’s this title. You’re not even a ghost, how could you possibly be their king?”.
“Could you imagine though?”, Danny’s tone is a bit cautious sounding but that’s pretty common for him. Jack prefers when he’s joking around or even slacking off honestly, “well, I would prefer for their king to be someone like you. You’re a good man, son. And that would be kind of cool, utterly impossible but cool”. Jack taps his chin a bit, “maybe, because of the accident you're guaranteed to become a ghost and for some reason the king? That still sounds ridiculous”. Jack shakes his head while Danny talks a bit quietly, “if that happened, me becoming a ghost. What would you guys do?”.
Jack blinks at his son slowly, getting what he’s asking and yeah no way he could ever, “we’d support you, see what you remember. We could never hunt you son. Families family. I can’t say I’d even know how to react if you hurt someone, especially with how kind and gentle you are now. So, don’t worry about that”. Jack pats him on on the back affectionately to prove a point and judging by Danny’s loose smile, the point was indeed made.
Danny’s looking down at the living room table, “good. I’m glad to hear it”. Jack’s a little confused but glad his son is glad. Danny shifts a bit, “but yeah I do...have a dangerous power. Pretty well just destroys; buildings, vehicles, ghosts, people. I guess you could say I’m that character that gets banned from tournaments and winds up on Watch Mojo lists for most broken characters and most broken character powers”.
“That is dangerous for sure, I guess that explains that and while I’m curious, I’m not asking for a demonstration. But that means you’ve got a sure fire way to defend yourself, so long as that’s why you’d use it then it’s cool too”, Jack chuckles weakly at Danny’s shock. Smiling a bit at him, “you’re way too nice to be using something like that irresponsibly. Though I find it hard to believe that you can have such a strong ability without it hurting you”.
Danny runs a hand through his hair, “well it does leave me feeling weak and tired but otherwise fine. And it has kind of like a strength dail, never really used it close to full strength and I’d prefer to keep it that way”. Jack’s honestly impressed at this level of honesty and really, pretty much all of this is cleared up. Very weird and still no clue if this is really safe for his son but much less impossible, “sounds like you know yourself pretty well. I’m not going to push to know all you can do but I do want to know. This sure is one way to whip out a surprise trump card on some ghost!”. Jack can tell by Danny snickering that he’s surprised more than one or two ghosts before, which only makes him pleased. Pushing Danny lightly on the shoulder, “still worried about you though”.
Jack can practically feel the mischief in his son, as he talks while walking up to bed, “maybe you could see what sort of reading Phantom gives. He’s a friendly enough fellow, and I think the entire town knows he’s a completely broken video game character. You guys get along now and something tells me he won’t say no”.
End.
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