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yamaoni · 3 years

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The Second Great War of Remnant has begun. Once more, Vale and Mantle are embroiled in a massive conflict, only this time, they are on the same side against Atlas.

I don't think it was a coincidence that so many people drew parallels with the last episode and WWI. We've never seen people fight that way in RWBY. Grimm don't use projectile weapons the way humans do, so the benefits of the trench are diminished; especially if you compare it to the drawbacks.

Now, I understand not everyone in the Atlas military has their aura unlocked and the squishy soldiers need some cover, but if The Long Memory didn't nuke every grimm on Atlas, the lines would have been overrun and then there would have been nowhere for them to retreat to.

You think the very real hand to hand struggles in the trenches of WWI were bad, imagine being trapped in a narrow trench with a bear. Or having this thing explode out of the ground under you.

I refuse to believe no-one in Atlas ever thought, "if we put the dirt from the trench in a box, no only can we give our soldiers cover, we can also give them an elevated position to fire from."

The top of a wall has been the primary defensive position for the people of Remnant for a long time. You can see them in the establishing shots of most settled places the team has visited. So why are we seeing a trench now?

Simple.

Show, don't tell.

RWBY has done a pretty great job, especially in the last few seasons, of showing the audience what it is trying to convey without explicitly telling them. They especially like drawing from well known folk lore to give insight into the future of the show.

Only difference here, instead of drawing the parallel between characters, they're drawing parallels between worlds.

Remnant's first Great War started with Mantle suppressing freedom of expression, the destruction of Art and Color. Ironwood always has little in the way of color, but in his first broadcast since everything started hitting the fan, he has none.

That broadcast also included evacuation ships being blown up by fighter-bombers, Dunkirk. It threatend to level a city if they didn't surrender, Battle of Brittan. All delivered by a dictator trying to scare his opponents into submission through careful use of film.

Theories

If the rest of the season is WWII, I have several theories on plot direction. Considering how well they did keeping up with both ends of the battlefield it wouldn't surprise me if they followed all of them at the same time.

Operation Dunkirk

Or, the evacuation of Mantle.

Players: Penny, Nora, Ren, Happy Huntresses

The Happy Huntresses involvement is a given. Not only has saving Mantle been their goal the whole time, they're also stuck in the middle of it right now.

Penny is the Protector of Mantle. It would be a shining moment for her character to fully throw off the virus Watts implanted and overcome Ironwood's threats to do so. Just crossing my fingers that it doesn't end like the Iron Giant.

Nora is currently Penny's tether to sanity, so she has to go with, and I doubt they would separate Ren from her for the next arc so he's going too.

Surprise twist for this plot I'm betting will be the Starwars "they aren't warships, just people" scene everyone loves to rag on. After all, the broadcast went out that they needed help and, at least at Dunkirk, it was fishing boats and pleasure crafts that retrieved the 338,000 surrounded on all sides.

Why We Fight

Or, countering Ironwoods propaganda.

Players: Robyn and Qrow

For one, these two are unaccounted for and in the heart of Atlas' military machine. If anyone has means to do so, it's them.

The film, Why We Fight, also countered the dramatic cinematography of Goebbels propaganda by painting it as ridiculous and making a folksy call to action much like Robyn has done in the past.

Operation Fortitude

Or, the deception of Ironwood.

Players: Emerald, Jaune, Oscar

This is the mission to make Ironwood think the team is going after the relic. This theory is why I actually thought of and wrote out this whole thing. Thanks @maxiemumdamage, I had things I was supposed to do tonight.

https://maxiemumdamage.tumblr.com/post/644291955872890880/willing-to-bet-my-own-soul-that-emerald-uses-her

Only difference in my theory and their's, is Jaune is going to be playing the part of Penny.

I say this for two reasons. One, Joan of Arc pretended to be a man. While we've gotten both Jaune pretending to be something he's not and him in a dress, this would pose the first time in the story he could do both. Two, it would put him on a direct collision path with Cinder. It needs to happen at some point to bring his arc to a conclusion, but man I hope we're not about to watch him burn.

With Ozpin active again, Oscar has to go along to direct them to the vault. He's also one of two backing the idea of Emerald joining the team and Jaune wouldn't be willing to work with her without him.

Operation Overlord

Or, busting down the doors of Atlas Acadamy.

Players: Ruby, Blake, Weiss, Yang

Where Operation Fortitude was the faint, Operation Overlord was the real deal. For those that aren't history buffs, this is D-Day.

I think this is the reason we've only seen the main team fighting together once since their split from Beacon. And even then, that fight was at most pairs of fighters and not all four of them supporting one another.

RWBY tricked us into thinking season 4 was the post-timeskip level up we come to expect from anime when really we ended up watching the training flashbacks as they happened instead.

We've seen hints of it with the various team ups and combinations, but are we really ready for how much ass kicking they are about to do?

I'm hoping for a One Piece level of badass entrance that can give me shivers whenever I go to watch it again like the walk to Arlong Park still does to this day.

(Aside: if you try telling me RWBY isn't anime, I'm just going to ignore you. Anime is an art movement. If you don't understand what that means, watch this video. https://youtu.be/uFtfDK39ZhI)

youtube

Now last and certainly not least

Operation Valkyrie

Or, the death of Ironwood.

Players: Winter and Marrow

The long awaited defection. Plenty of speculation has already floated around about if and when these two where going to cave to their morals and jump ship. I don't know how many of us were expecting the straw to break the camel's back to be a nuke held over Mantle, but I certainly wasn't.

What worries me, is Operation Valkyrie failed and all its conspirators were executed. As if there weren't enough death flags for Winter before.

Even if it's not Winter that kills him. I don't see Ironwood surviving this season. Even if it means he goes out like another hated dictator. It's not like it would be the first time RT had a fallen hero chose to use his own sword.

Wildcards

Or, Murphy will have his due.

Players: Cinder, Watts, Neo, Tyrian, Mercury, Clover

These players can go any which way. Three we know for sure are going to be active in the coming episodes and I wouldn't be surprised if the other three play a part as well.

Oscar made a hell of a light show for Tyrian and Mercury to see behind them. Not to mention, Salem will still need a ride home when she pulls herself back together.

Clover keeps getting mentioned even though he's hospitalized. If he was truly out of commission for the rest of the season, they would have made us think he's dead before bringing him back like they did with Penny.

Up to now, what we've seen is a three way conflict. But one of the hallmarks of Remnant's First Great War, was making temporary alliances to fight off grimm.

The grimm might be gone, but the wild cards can't complete their own objectives if they are dead. The question is who's goals better align with their own.

Two surprise twists I can see here. One, Mercury stabbing Tyrian on his way to defection. He was raised by an assassin and has not going to get a better chance than that. Two, Clover joining Operation Valkyrie. He might have accepted that sacrifice is a necessary evil to ensure Atlas' survival, but might go Schindler's List on us and find horror in what Ironwood plans to do.

TLDR

I spent way too long writing this out. All the WWI imagery means we're getting a WWII movie with RWBY characters. Major death flags for Penny, Jaune, and Winter.

Also I finally figured out how to do a readmore. Apparently it's just been a long time since I updated.

Note: kept seeing things talking about clovers death and I kind of went ???? Isn't he barely alive in medical? Went back and watched that scene and though I am 90% sure he is dead still kind of weird that they have him in his own room instead of a morgue and the initial framing made my mind instantly think he was propped up on a hospital bed. I mean, I guess we needed to have all the ACEOPs there for their reaction to Ironwood... but it definitely made me think he was alive. That and they have a bandage on his chest wound... when he's supposedly dead. Also have a phantom memory of Harriet saying something about him being in critical but I think that's my memory playing tricks on me.

Having his face exposed instead of covered by the sheet and seeing him in the same frame as Winter being treated also didn't help my gut reaction of "Oh Shit! He's alive? How?!" If I'd followed up more on the "how" might not have made the blunder of writing his return as the final twist in my theory. Oops

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the-enby-doughnut · 3 years

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How To Save A Life

Chapter 1: /Step one, you say we need to talk/ He walks, you say sit down, it's just a talk/

TW: Implied Cutting, Nicos being an ass for his own protection and he knows it, bullying mentions, tell me if there’s more.

Nico Flores was usually a kind enough person in his opinion. That is if he actually talked to someone which was rather rare, he had had some… bad experiences people wise. Now he had never had a bad experience with Thomas Sanders, but no one was that fucking nice, no one. Nico knew he would snap eventually and when he did, Nico didn’t want to be around for it. Which was why when Thomas bumped into him in the hall he was well, kind of an ass…. he in fact said two words over Thomas’s apologies “Fuck Off”.

He honestly felt rather bad about it but Thomas just walked away. Nico didn’t see the way Thomas’s hands pressed against his thighs or the kicked puppy look. He knew that this might get him closer to Thomas snapping at him but hopefully Thomas would just leave him alone. No dice for that option apparently. Thomas started trying to get him to talk, which he did for about two weeks before giving up.

About a month later he was in history, which was a class he shared with Mr. (Not) Perfect. So he wasn’t surprised when Thomas raised his hand and the teacher called on him. “Actually Roman gladiator fights rarely ended in death and lower class people or slaves would willingly volunteer as it was a good way to get freed or-“

Thomas got cut off by the teacher saying “Enough Mr.Sanders, none of the textbooks have said that, please don’t misinform.”

“But-“

“You’re in dangerous territory Sanders.”

“But it’s not mis-“ Thomas tried to counter surprise surprise.

“Detention Mr.Sanders!” Thomas huffed at that, he looked uncomfortable for the rest of the class. Nico himself had gotten detention earlier for being late to class and was not looking forward to spending time with the other, but he did want to know what Thomas had been trying to say. So when detention finally rolled around Nico plopped into the seat next to Thomas.

“What do you want Flores.” Thomas spat, and Nico realized he had pushed this kid to his breaking point hadn’t he.

“I just thought you had an interesting point in history I didn’t mean to bother you..”

“It doesn’t matter what I know the teacher’s not going to listen and I already know you hate me so- so just go bother someone who didn’t try to make friends with you. I was stupid enough to think that you might actually be nice but it’s clear you only care when you get something out of me so buzz off.” Nico walked off after that, Thomas was a lot more adept at noticing things than he thought. He doubted that the tiny monologue Thomas just gave was an actual snap though, it sounded more exhausted and upset.

Nico was surprised he actually felt bad for pushing Thomas away, but that was absurd, he knew Thomas would end up being an ass anyways right? He kept telling himself that his reasoning was right. He started avoiding Thomas more, he didn’t like the feeling he got when he was around him. His gut instinct was to be nice and he was not nice to Thomas. It was harder than he thought.

This became even more of a conundrum when they got partnered for a project. Because of course they did, the universe was getting payback. Thomas walked cautiously up to him and mumbled “Would you be ok with texting I know we’re not exactly on the best terms…”

“Fine, but I’m not dealing with you after this. Understand?”

“Yep….” Thomas was going to cause disaster, Nico could feel it. He still ended up going to Thomas's house later that day with supplies for the project.

Thomas helped him carry the supplies up to his room and they got started. He eventually heard Thomas speak up “Um, I’ll be back in a moment. Do you want anything to eat or drink…”

“Do you have any oranges? I’m up for one if you have them.” Nico said trying to be polite considering Thomas could easily kick him out. He watched Thomas walk off and start disappearing down the stairs. He also took a real look around Thomas's room.

He noted the soft galaxy patterned blankets on the (bunk)bed and the overflowing bookshelf, the small pride flag, but he also noticed a small blade on Thomas’s desk which had a small bit of blood on it. ‘Shit’ Nico thought as soon as he saw it. He stood frozen for a moment before he picked it up and waited for Thomas to return. He did just a few moments later.

“Thomas…” he said softly and watched the other stiffen at the tone.

“What.. I didn’t mess anything up did I?” He said setting a plate in front of Nico and sitting down running his hands over his legs again.

“N- well not on the project… I’d like to know what this is about.” Nico said holding the blade to the light and watching Thomas look away.

“It’s nothing-“ Thomas tried to say.

“It’s not nothing Thomas! It’s definitely something. Is this my fault?” Nico said, his voice breaking. Thomas's eyes shot up.

“It’s- it’s not your fault no…” Thomas said, he wasn’t lying luckily.

“But I’ve been an ass to you this whole-“

“Do you honestly believe I care, I didn’t expect you to like me, I’m popular, that doesn’t mean I’m really friends with anyone! I’m nice because if I’m not nice then people are going to hate me again and I didn’t move schools for nothing. Being gay doesn’t give me props and I never tried to be friends with you before the hall and this started way before that because I’m a stupid-“

“You’re not stupid. I was being an ass because the last few people who seemed as sweet as sunshine were dicks and just- they were asses and I’ll leave it there. You’ve never done anything wrong and I just- made an assumption. You’re not like that clearly. I was just-“

“Protecting your dignity. I’ve met plenty of people like that…. I mentioned moving schools, yeah?”

“Yes? Where are you taking this conversation”

“My best friend… he um, I came out to him and he- he just- I’m sorry I’m not going to talk about it but....I try to be nicer because of things like that. We both have different coping mechanisms: you put up walls while I pretend nothings wrong. I guess this whole thing was just a huge misunderstanding huh?”

“I think so, probably a bit more than a misunderstanding though, more like a catastrophe in rainbow. Let’s clean up though and we can watch tv and make junk food, K?”

“Yeah but…. Are you just being nice because-“

“I actually wanted to be nice in the first place and I just didn’t think it would end well.”

“Ok… we have popcorn and pudding and a bunch of stuff if you want?”

“That sounds good, but we can’t watch a movie, I do have to get home…”

“Yeah I know, but um, thanks… I- just thanks.”

“There’s nothing you should be thanking me for.”

“Joan and Tayln are the only other people who have cared and now you do to…. so I’m thanking you for deciding to stay.”

“Well, I guess…. but we’re friends now. I’m not leaving you, I promise.” Nico responded smiling at Thomas a bit. Thomas smiled back before running downstairs and Nico heard the fridge open and microwave sounds. He sighed, he should have realized, he should have noticed Thomas’s smile was just a little off, or the way his hands pressed against his legs just a bit too much, presumably where the cuts were…. He felt like an idiot, he supposed this was the trouble he felt brewing.

In the end they had a good time and when Nico left they both agreed, friends, they’re going to be friends.

@psychedelicships @little-chaos-bitch @vann-cat (ask to be tagged if you want)

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masterjedilenawrites · 3 years

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The Sniper and The Medic: Chapter 2

Starring: Crosshair, Original Character “Joan Vo,” probably the rest of the Bad Batch at some point

Summary: Crosshair doesn't exactly like medical personnel. In fact, he hates them. They're always poking and prodding, calling him skinny, telling him he's not good enough. But then he meets the new medical examiner, the smart and kind and oh-so-pretty Joan Vo. And suddenly, he's not only looking forward to his medical check-ups, but he's also starting to question whether he wants to go to war after all....

Rating & Warnings: T/PG-13. Eventual fluff. Light angst. Who knows what else will pop up, but I’ll leave warnings when needed.

Taglist: Let me know if you want to be tagged for this fic.

AO3 Link (In case you like it better over there, it’s okay, no judgement)

< Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter >

Chapter 2: Doctor’s Orders

She wasn't the first human girl he'd ever seen.

But she sure was the prettiest.

There'd been some contractors and other hired help on the planet, especially in recent years as the demand on the warfront left few bodies to fill the more ancillary tasks. A few had been female. Each time one came in, there was endless chatter among the clones about them. Crosshair had never understood the fascination, nor had his brother Tech. They often wondered if that was just another one of their defects.

Now he got it.

She didn't wear the traditional medical garb, or even the sterile robes the Kaminoans usually gave visitors. Instead, she was in what looked like the clone's standard issue under-armor, "blacks." Slightly different material and stitching, but same concept. It stretched around her figure, highlighting both her obvious female-ness as well as some muscles. Her pinkish-blonde hair was pulled back from her face, which was young, but also weathered. She wasn't another posh politician or edgy mercenary. She was something else entirely.

But her arrival did nothing to help his nerves; in fact, he felt even worse now. This pretty girl would be the one inspecting him. Frowning at all his subpar test results. Reprimanding him for not eating or exercising enough. Judging him.

He watched her with wary eyes as she entered and gave him a small but endearing smile.

"Good morning," she said, her voice a bit raspy, but calm. Soft. "I'm Joan."

She looked at him expectantly. He knew he should give his official designation, but he decided to say the name he'd given himself, in a rebellious attempt to show himself as human.

"Crosshair."

She held her smile, unperturbed by his lack of protocol. In fact, she seemed pleased by it.

"Crosshair," Joan repeated, sending a shiver through him. She had been holding a datapad, undoubtedly containing all the sad details of his medical history. He braced himself for the uncomfortable silence that would happen as she flicked through it. But instead she placed it on a table along the back wall and rolled out a chair to face him.

"Well, Crosshair, tell me about yourself."

He blinked a few times. "Um," he nodded to the back table. "My file should have everything about me."

"Everything?" she asked with an amused smirk. "Like your favorite color? What you think about before falling asleep?"

Her eyes narrowed at him, a challenge, but a playful one. He had no clue how to respond.

Before he could come up with something to say, her face relaxed and she pushed her chair back as she stood, returning to the back table. She grabbed a pad of paper and an exam scope. The datapad remained neglected.

"Crosshair..." she said his name again, causing him to fight to control another pleasant fluttering in his chest. "Does that mean you're really into guns?"

She came in front of him again, resting the primitive writing materials on the table beside his leg as she fiddled with the settings on the scope.

"I'm a sharpshooter," he said. That was something he had an answer for.

"Sharpshooter." She quickly scribbled the word down on the paper. "There's something about you. What else?"

He was silent again, back to being utterly confused. Why didn't she just look in his chart? Was this some sort of test?

A pale light came on the scope and she brought it up to his right eye. She didn't let him sit in confusion for long. "Have you thought about getting a tattoo yet? You could do something really cool with a reticule, or a target. Maybe a bullet?"

She moved the scope across his other eye. He tried to stay still for her, even though he really wanted to furrow his eyebrows at the random change in topic.

"I... haven't thought about it," he muttered.

She set the scope down and held up the pen, holding it slightly behind his head.

"Look straight ahead, let me know when you see it," she said, bringing it slowly forward. He grunted as soon as the pen entered his periphery; he couldn't say anything as Joan was already talking again.

"What do you think is the furthest distance you could make a shot from?" The pen was moved to the other side and the exercise repeated, though she didn't seem too interested in it. "Like an accurate one. A bullseye, dead on."

She sounded like the young clones they'd sometimes bring around to the training rooms on field trips. Wide eyes, reverent voices, in awe of the cadets they'd one day become themselves.

Crosshair allowed himself to frown as he answered her, quite frankly, silly question. "It's not just a matter of my ability, but the capacity of the rifle and range of the blast, as well as a whole list of environmental factors."

Joan brought the scope up to one of his ears, now, peering through it. He could feel her breath against his neck as she spoke. "Okay, so you have the best long-distance rifle in the entire galaxy. Perfect wind and lighting conditions. Nothing else in your way. How far?"

He thought about for a few seconds, and then confidently stated, "Thirty-five hundred meters. Easy."

She was looking in his other ear, but he could still see her smiling, impressed, out of the corner of his eye. It made his cheeks feel warm.

"What would be a hard shot to make, then?" she asked, coming back around to face him. She motioned to hold his hands out in front of him. As he thought about the new question, she instructed him to fold his thumbs inward and then curl his other fingers into a fist. Her own hands wrapped gently over his; they were cold but soft, and he almost lost track of his thoughts as he watched her guide his wrists to bend up and down.

"Any pain?" she asked, bringing him back. He shook his head.

"Well..." he said thoughtfully, "I suppose it'd have to be shooting blind. You can still get a lay of the land, use your other senses to aim. But if you can't see what you're shooting at...."

Joan hummed in acknowledgement, moving his palms to face upward, and tapping along his wrists. "Any pain?" And he shook his head again.

"I knew a sniper once," she said in a lower voice. "You know what he said were the hardest shots he ever had to make?"

She moved his hands into another formation, where his knuckles touched each other in the middle of his chest with elbows sticking out. He shook his head, answering both questions, the one she'd just asked, and the one he expected would come with this test.

"He said it's the ones you don't want to make." Her light-heartedness was gone and her face now looked old and tired. "He didn't explain further, but I knew he'd been on the Umbara mission."

Crosshair didn't need her to explain further, either. They'd been told about Umbara.

"I would've known," he couldn't help but say. It had been the first thing he thought of when they were debriefed on the tragic mission. He hadn't told anyone, knowing it wouldn't be taken well, but he still believed it. There was no way he wouldn't have been able to tell it was his brothers at the other end of his gun.

She regarded him with a cocked head, and for a moment, the judgement he'd feared receiving in this room flashed across her features. But then it was gone, and her usual squinted eyes and quirked lips fell back into place.

"And what if you hadn't?"

"I would have. I know I would have."

She shook her head. "That's not what I meant. You have to think about the what-if sometimes. Even if they're far-fetched. Just to know what your response would be. Hope for the best, and prepare for the worst."

He didn't know what to say to that.

But Joan didn't wait for him to respond, either. She picked up the pad of paper, which he just now noticed had a lot more scribbles on it. He hadn't realized she'd been taking notes the whole time.

She handed the pad to him.

"Your homework. Write down some things about yourself for next time, okay?"

She took a step back, as if to make room for him to get up and leave.

He frowned at her. "That's it?"

She smiled at him. "For today. I think you're next on the schedule for Thursday. Same time."

He looked between the paper and her. She laughed a little.

"Try starting with your favorite color," she said with a wink, and then turned to clean up the remaining things.

He slowly got off the bed and shuffled out into the hallway, holding the pad of paper like it was a strange object he'd never seen before. He wasn't really reading any of the things she'd put on there, just staring at it to give himself something to focus on. That visit was, by far, the most bizarre medical check-up of his life.

And it was the first that he didn't want to leave.

#star wars #the clone wars #the bad batch #clone force 99 #crosshair #crosshair x OC #eventual fluff #angst #crosshair needs a hug #medical things #soldier things #more tags to follow

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greenninjagal-blog · 4 years

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A Cactus and Nothing More

Summary: Virgil gifts Deceit a dead Cactus.

Words: 3266

Quick Taglist: @chelsvans @dwbh888 @glitchybina @faithfulcat111 @felicianoromano @harrypotternerdprincess @holliberries @jemthebookworm @killerfangirl3 @lunasfriendgabby @musical-nerd18 @never-end1ng-suffering @nonasficcollection @silverflame-wc @stricken-with-clairvoyancy @themultishipperchild @thenaiads @treasureofpriam @vianadraws @figurative-siren-song

Read on Ao3 || General Writing Master List

When Virgil first gave Deceit the cactus it was supposed to be thinly veiled insult. Something to remind the side that while Thomas was coming to terms with him, what he and Virgil had was not salvageable.

It wasn’t even like he went out of his way for it either: Patton had gifted him the little cactus a few weeks after his official coronation to the Light Side and Virgil had accidentally killed it the way he killed most plants. So a little regifting and he handed over the witted falling apart cactus to Deceit the day after the liar had managed to finally get his points across to Thomas.

“A cactus?” Deceit said slowly eyeing the withering plant.

“Yeah,” Virgil said already turned around and heading back off into the blurry grey fog that separated all their rooms. Virgil liked to point out it used to be a Black Fog between all the dark sides’ rooms, shrouding them in darkness so thick it made it dangerous to go anywhere. Especially when one remembered that Remus liked to rearrange the entire mindscape and often left trapped doors anywhere he pleased, along with the booby traps, false staircases, maze of mirrors, and sometimes even that shark pit. When Virgil switched to the Light side he had been even more suspicious of the white fog that swished around the place like little clouds. The floors didn’t rearrange themselves but any time Virgil left his room he was reminded of the great expanse of Thomas’s mind and almost immediately started feeling sick without a wall to lean against.

The grey fog was...a compromise. Virgil didn’t know how to feel about it, but it had started coming the more that Thomas listened to Deceit and accepted Remus, and hung out with Virgil. It wasn’t bad.

It wasn’t good either.

Virgil didn’t like being out in it, so he tried to push it out of his mind.

“Yeah,” Virgil said again, “A cactus, because you’re a massive prick still, Dee.”

And because Virgil also didn’t know how to feel about Deceit, he fled the scene and pushed the interaction from his mind.

That was supposed to be the end of it. A single insult and nothing more.

But then Thomas...got himself into one of those situations.

A situation just like before when Thomas was a teenager and Virgil was juggling the fifty million things Thomas needed to focus on and he was failing and dropping things--

“Why don’t we ask Deceit?” Patton suggested. “He’ll probably have an answer!”

Roman blew out a breath with a hand on his chest, “Oh thank god, I didn’t want to be the one who said it.”

You...Patton,” Thomas said with all the disbelief Virgil felt, “Want to ask Deceit for help?”

“Well, yeah kiddo!” Patton smiled that dopey, sunshine smile of his. “He’s a part of you too, ya know!”

“Thomas if I may--” Logan interjected from the hall, folding his hands in an excited, yet focused manner. “Patton may be on to something here. In the past Deceit has worked closely with Virgil to get you out of tight binds like this one. Lying may not be the absolutely best solution for the overall conundrum, but it will provide a temporary expansion of time for us to fix the problem in another way. Much like boarding up a broken window until we can replace the window all together.”

“But what if it doesn’t?” Virgil growled. “What if Joan sees through the lie and hates us even more?”

“Mhm, doubtful,” Logan said. “Joan is a very understanding friend. Even if they aren’t misdirected by our misdirection, they will likely allow us time to explain why we felt the need to lie to them.”

“You just don’t want to work with Deceit!” Roman declared flourishing in Virgil’s direction. “Don’t worry, Channing Tantrum! You aren’t going to be replaced!”

“I wasn’t worried about being replaced,” Virgil grumbled. “But I am now! Thanks Roman!”

Patton cupped his own face, “Oh no! We would never do that to you! That’s not what I meant!”

“I agree,” Logan said, “Its more likely that I would scoot over to allow room to my left for Deceit to say his piece.”

Thomas absently looked around his living room with a critical eye, “I need a bigger living room, if I’m going to keep having theses existential crises.”

“Bigger living room means more room for puppies!” Patton said

“Bigger living room means more Me!” Roman added, excitedly.

“No Thomas!” Logan shouted, “Stay on track!”

Their host, Patton, and Roman, all shared a groan, which didn’t make the uneasiness in Virgil dim any. Of course Logan corralling the others to focus just made Virgil more aware of the time that was passing-- the time that they were losing to come up with a solution to the problem that Virgil created because he wasn’t doing his job effectively enough.

Joan was due over in half an hour, and they needed to figure out how to tell them that they promised to spend the day with Terrance-- without letting on the the fact that Terrance had asked for help getting Joan’s surprise birthday present together.

“Alright lets call Deceit,” Thomas said, spinning to face the left side of Logan and throwing his arms out, “DECEIT!”

And it was supposed to be Deceit showing up with his cunning and theatrical smirk, having obviously heard them all talking about him and preening under the knew attention. Virgil would have bet money on seeing that Snake’s overconfident smile; and he would have felt relieved that Deceit would have a pre-preapred lie in the making that would only take a second or two to clue Thomas in on and the he’d be gone again.

It was not supposed to be Deceit being flung up into the room holding that damn little cactus in his hands and it flying out of his hands to land on the floor.

“De--oh,” Thomas said eyeing the succulent as it tumbled over and spilled metaphorical dirt on the ground. “Sorry?”

“Thomas,” Deceit said with a resigned lit, “So wonderful for you to call. I was totally expecting it.” He bent down to pick up the little plant, careful of the needles and investigated the flower with an analyzing eye.

“Is that a cactus?” Roman asked.

“....No.”

“Is that the cactus I gave you?” Virgil asked, before he could stop himself.

Because well...it couldn’t be the cactus Virgil gave him. Virgil’s “gift” had been 9/10ths dead and suffering badly for it (not that Virgil had tried to kill it or anything. He had looked up how to take care of a cactus and it still hadn’t worked for him). The one in Deceit’s hand was blooming with bright yellow flowers that matched Deceit’s gloves and was a healthy green color.

Deceit gave him an offended look for his trouble. “Of course not! Can’t you see that I let yours die and then went to the trouble of getting the same exact one to keep and admire in my room?”

“You can quit with the attitude,” Virgil shot back.

“Me? An attitude?” Deceit scoffed, tossing his head as he rolled his eyes and banished his cactus back to his room. “Perish the thought! Now I assume that you called me up here for a reason, and not just to chat, Thomas. So come on, get out with the the day’s dilemma.”

That should have been the end of it. An eye roll and nothing more.

But Deceit spun that little lie that Thomas agreed to tell, Virgil and Deceit worked side by side just like they used to before Thomas grew up. Virgil juggled all the things that he needed to focus on and Deceit spun the lies to catch the things he dropped before they shattered.

And when Thomas was successfully on his way to Terrance’s with Joan none the wiser (and none the angrier at him), Virgil called it a day and sunk back down into the Mindscape.

It was strange, wasn’t it? That Deceit had kept his cactus- that Deceit had kept it at all.

And perhaps a little part of Virgil was happy about-- the same little part of him that woke him up at night because the other half of his bed was empty or because he wanted a hug but he wanted one of Deceit’s hugs. It was the same little part of him he had been trying to hush and squash and silence for years now.

The part of him that still wanted Deceit in his life, in Thomas’s life.

And wasn’t that annoying? Virgil was overthinking this.

It was a mostly dead cactus. Deceit had probably grown it back from the edge for spite against him and no reason more.

He picked up one of the other plants he had in his room: another cactus, because Patton knew they required little help from humans and though they could liven Virgil’s room a little. Virgil adored Patton, he did, but he didn’t have the heart to tell the Moral side that he just wasn’t good with plants.

But Deceit was. Probably was.

And Deceit really had saved Thomas from a really bad day today. A half dead plant probably wasn’t a very good “Thank you”.

But Virgil wasn’t exactly good at thank you’s either. So he left a second cactus outside Dee’s door with a note that read “You’re Still a Prick”.

And by the next time Virgil got the courage to roam to Deceit’s door, two to three days later it had vanished.

So it was an apology and nothing more.

Should have been an apology and nothing more.

But Patton had dropped off another little succulent for him-- this one still alive and had purple accents with it, and Virgil had once again chickened out of telling him that he routinely managed to kill all the plants he touched. Instead Virgil eyed the plant and pursed his lips.

Surely it wasn’t fair to the stupid little cactus that it got stuck being gifted to Virgil. (Where was Patton even getting these from?) It didn’t deserve to suffer in Virgil’s room for months on end while he tittered about it and begged it not to die on him like its predecessors.

Oh geez, was Virgil serious acting like the cactus had feelings? That’s a new low for him.

Besides he knew where this was going anyway. Straight down the misty emptiness that was The mindscape and to the right: Deceit’s room.

He left another note with it: “Aloe Loser, thought you might want another friend.”

So it was a joke and nothing more.

And if Virgil brainstormed a couple more bad cactus puns? Well.. that’s his business. He drew a few of the succulents too, but his window sill was clear and and he no longer felt awful for letting all of his gifted plants die.

That was something right?

It should have ended there.

But then Virgil had come upon one of those nights were he couldn’t-- fucking-- sleep. He tossed and turned and growled. Threw off his covers, pulled them back on, turned on the fan, drank warm milk, listened to the calming sounds of a thunderstorm--

It was hopeless.

He huffed and grabbed his sweatshirt before stalking out of his room, unsure of where he was even going. Thomas was resting peacefully, Roman was out making dreams and Remus was working with him for once to make some epic fantasy thing-- Virgil only knows this because Roman had actually been excited that his brother agreed to help him rather than hindered him.

Virgil was just glad Remus wasn’t antagonizing them again.

The grey fog swirled around him as he walked, feeling like a fine mist against his exposed skin. He triple checked Thomas’s schedule, the memories of Thomas’s plans with friends and family, he checked the viewers most recent comments-- but whatever was keeping him up wasn’t tied to Thomas.

(Which was ridiculous because it was tied to Virgil who was already tied to Thomas, which meant-- geez he was too tired to finish the thought.)

“Virgil?”

The voice shook him from his pondering, soft and gentle and coaxing. Virgil wasn’t surprised to find Dee standing in the grey mass looking every bit irritated at Virgil felt, only he was still dressed for the day. His purple and gold tunic was covered in a foul smelling goop and there were smudges of green on his face and in his hair. His shoes made a horrid squelching noise with every step and his hat and caplet were missing.

“What are you doing out?” Virgil huffed, curling his shoulders.

Deceit exhaled sharply, “Well I was heading to find the memories of the day to file away, but Remus rearranged the floor again without telling me and I discovered a lovely Slip-N-Slide from my door straight to a pit of something green.” He grimaced, “I don’t want to know what it is.”

Virgil winced. “That’s...” he started, “rough.”

Deceit scoffed, “That is one way to put it.” He wiped his hands together as if he he could get rid of the goop, “And you? What are you doing haunting the halls of Thomas’s mind like a specter of the night, Anxiety?”

“Can’t sleep.” Virgil replied.

He shifted for a moment twisting his hands in his sweatshirt while Deceit pretended not to notice. The silence was a stifling sort, the type that echoed through all of Thomas and made Virgil violently aware that neither of them were actually real beings as much as just metaphysical figments from the imagination of a man with a incredible obsession for Disney.

“I should be going.” Deceit said finally. “Good Night--”

“Wait,” Virgil said, too loudly, too quickly, too suddenly.

Deceit raised an eyebrow at him and he worried his bottom lip between his teeth.

“I, uh,” Virgil sighed and then rolled his shoulders back, “My room’s closer. I think I still have some of your clothes in there. If you want to... like change.”

Deceit stared at him for far too long.

“I---” the side said tilting his head, “No that’s okay, Virgil. I don’t want to be a hassle.”

“You aren’t a hassle, Dee.” Virgil thought it should be a lie coming from him, because he’d spent so long being angry at Dee for so many reasons-- too many to count and keep straight. He had whined and complained and arguments and grumbled so many times because Deceit refused to leave Thomas, to leave Virgil himself alone.

But here they are now.

And Virgil was reminded that he didn’t know what his feelings about Deceit were. He just knew that they were there, and very present, and that they had been growing ever since he saw that Deceit kept his stupid little cactus.

“Okay,” Deceit said and it was barely more than a whisper in the night.

“Okay,” Virgil echoed.

The walk back to Virgil’s room was weird. There was a tension in the air that Virgil couldn't place, didn’t want to place, tried not to place. Deceit’s mouth opened once or twice but he aborted whatever thought it was at the last second. It was entirely unlike him. Virgil fidgeted with the loose string of his pocket.

The squelching of Deceit’s shoes make both of them wince, but once back in Virgil’s room Virgil summoned a container of Clorox wipes for him. It was silent while Deceit cleaned himself up and Virgil hunted down those old clothes he knew were still in his room. It was the third drawer by the time he found them: stuffed behind a bunch of other clothes that Virgil never wore anymore.

“Why did you keep my cactus?” Virgil asked, trying not to watch as Deceit stripped shamelessly in front of him (and god at least that about him was still the same).

“Why did you gift me a dead cactus?” Deceit asked right back.

“I think you know the answer to that,” Virgil said.

Deceit turned around to face him and Virgil realized that he gave him the wrong shirt because that one is definitely his own. Deceit was never a band fan: always preferring to listen to classical and read philosophy than bounce around with Virgil as the beat move through them. Still with his dark eye lashes and cocky grin he wore that shirt better than Virgil ever did.

“Do I?” He said startling Virgil out of his thoughts. Virgil tore his eyes off Deceit’s chest, away from the his piercing eyes and very kissable lips (not that Virgil was thinking of kissing him, okay. It was late and he was tired and there aren’t many other adjectives to describe what the hell type of lips Deceit has).

“You do,” Virgil confirmed, flopping onto his bed.

“Ah,” Deceit said and then so carefully slid onto the opposite corner of the bed, barely even on the bed at all. He looked a bit like he was waiting for Virgil to tell him to get off, to get out, to get on with his life. “Then I supposed you gave me the cactus because you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” Virgil said.

“Because you hated me?”

“I...” Virgil hesitated.

“Because you wanted to remind me that what we had between us was dead.”

Virgil didn’t say anything because it wasn't a question anymore. Deceit didn’t say anything either because-- because he was Deceit and there was too much history between them to fill the silence with memories. They simply stare at opposite sides of the room.

“So,” Virgil said after a moment. “If you knew that, why did you keep it?”

Deceit stood up suddenly, taking a deep breath and letting it out, “Perhaps because even I can be an optimistic fool sometimes.” He turned away, “Thank you Virgil. I’ll go now-”

“Wait--”

“Good night.”

“Deceit!” Virgil said and Deceit froze where he was, one hand on the door handle, one foot prepared to run off. With his back to Virgil, he couldn't make out the expression of Deceit’s face, but he was guessing it was a grimace.

Whatever Virgil was going to say is gone and to be honest Virgil wasn’t sure it was ever there. Some part of him had started screaming the moment that Deceit had gone to leave and Virgil had reacted without a thought.

“Do you--” Virgil cleared his throat, “Would you--” He stuttered off. Virgil squeezed his eyes closed, “Where do you keep it?”

Deceit stared at the door for a long moment. Virgil counted each and every breath until he spoke up again. “The desk in my room gets a lot of light. I’ve lined them all up.”

“All?”

“All,” Deceit echoed. “They look nice while I read.”

Virgil’s mouth felt dry and he wasn’t sure why.

“Good night, Virgil,” Deceit said again, softly and opened the door to step back out into the mindscape.

“Deceit!” Virgil called one more time, “Do you....If I...” He took another breath, “Would you like another one?”

“Another Cactus?” Deceit asked

And Virgil didn’t know how to say “Another Chance” or “Another hug” or “Another Kiss” so instead he just nodded.

Deceit looked at him again, his scales glimmering in the dull light. He smiled sorta--kinda--probably. “Yes, Virgil,” He said, “If you have another to offer.”

Virgil told himself not to get excited, not to get anxious, not to get overwhelmed.

After all, it was just a cactus and nothing more.

#Axceit #sanders sides #cactus puns #The author really didn't know where this was going but its here now #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #The author started to fall asleep so the quality took a down turn #my bad #Remus rearranges the Mindscape all the time because I said so

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wastelandcrown · 4 years

Text

logan lark’s adventures in trying to appease his parents

CHAPTER 3: i am actively trying to throw away my shot but it isn’t fucking working

Summary: Logan Lark is a fairly average high school student. By all means, he should be impressing his parents on all grounds. Except...he doesn’t exactly have a social life. So after his parents give him puppy dog eyes, he decides to join the local theatre's youth production. Good grief...His life is about to get weird isn’t it?

Warnings: Potential ooc behavior, Roman is a theatre brat to the highest degree (Sorry Roman stans), Remus being Remus, Anxiety/Panic Attacks, Talks of anxiety/medication, Throwing up (Not detailed)

Notes: This fic is based off an idea from @under-the-blue-moonlight. If you wanna be tagged in chapters, please dm me!! This chapter has a lot of anxiety and anxiety talk, so if you’re sensitive to that please be mindful!! Also lots of Logan and Virgil being friends, which I enjoyed writing! I also apologize for the delay, I ended up hating chapters 4-6 after I wrote them and have just rewritten them! Much more to come dw!

Pairings: Eventual Intrulogical, Eventual Rociet, Eventual One-Sided Logicality, Platonic Analogical, Platonic DRLAMP

Word Count: 2994

Tagslist: @under-the-blue-moonlight @why-should-i-tell-youu2

By almost all accounts, the next week got easier each day that passed. As Logan got acclimated to the chaos and worked on his notebook, things got much better. Part of this could be attributed to his time spent in the tech booth with Virgil.

Their goal for the week was to pick their audition song and perfect it so that by Friday they could perform and Thomas could quickly and efficiently cast the show. Their performance was in November, which was absolutely way too soon for Logan but Janus had assured him that it was more than enough time to put on an adequate performance. He took Virgil’s lifeline offer surprisingly often. Sitting in the booth and quietly practicing his audition worked out some of the stress in him. Sometimes Virgil would look up from his switch and make a comment on his performance or suggest something is changed, but aside from that, they were quietly comfortable with each other’s presence amongst all of the chaos that was the rest of the theatre.

When he left the booth, he was nearly swarmed by the others. It became routine. In the morning, he would spend time with Virgil, Patton, and their friend Emile. Oftentimes conversation was light, and the commentary was helpful and constructive. At lunch, he and Virgil would move to the tech booth and eat there together to get some peace and quiet in before inevitably being bombarded in the afternoon. After lunch, someone (usually Remus) would make their way up to the tech booth and drag them out to the boy’s dressing room. Virgil would sit in the corner and occasionally mess with one of the twins, or hiss at Janus in greeting, and Logan would be worked to the bone. He had decided to audition with Hamilton’s rap from My Shot; Doing the first and second halves, but cutting out the middle. Janus was extremely dedicated to being sure Logan’s performance would make an impression. Logan wanted the opposite, but he couldn’t argue with Janus’ dedication to making the entire show perfect.

Though, Roman’s attitude didn’t really change that much. For four days, he stayed at a zero. By Friday morning, he actually enjoyed his routine in part. Aside from Roman. Actually, Logan thinks if Roman was completely removed from the situation he may actually be happy with his current predicament. All this has just been practice though. When Friday afternoon rolls around and his audition is getting closer and closer, he tries to focus on the other performers. When it’s Roman’s turn, he pays special attention. Now he sees why Roman has an ego about these things. His audition was very good, and he felt natural on the stage. He would make a wonderful Hamilton, and he really looked the part. Despite him and Remus being technically identical, he looked worlds different. His clothes were ironed perfectly, and he had obviously dressed a bit historically today. His wavy hair was combed to let his face shine through in the stage light, and he was...dear lord, was he wearing eyeliner? Logan shook it from his mind and listened to him sing. Just like the days he’d seen him practice, he was very good. Obviously star material. If he didn’t get Hamilton, Logan would eat a page from his notebook. Figuratively, of course. That would be bad for his digestive system.

On either side of him are Patton and Virgil. He’s not really focusing on auditions until Roman’s, and after he phases back into his overthinking. He’s not nervous, he would never be nervous. Logically, there is no reason for him to be nervous. He’s just being vigilant. That’s it.

Virgil nudges him, “I can practically hear your thinking. You okay?”

“Oh-Uhm-Yes,” Logan says quietly, staring up at the performer on stage, “I’ll be fine.”

Virgil digs into his pocket and pulls out a little cube, he hands it to Logan with a kind expression, “See if that helps your anxiety.”

“I’m not anxious, there’s no reason for me to be anxious.” Logan scoffs, taking the little cube and running his thumb over the side with a small silver ball. The movement does make him feel a little better.

Virgil smirks, and flicks his shoulder, “You’re smarter than that, Logan. C’mon.”

He’s right, and Logan knows it. Anxious feelings can be totally irrational and are oftentimes a result of doing something new or stressful.

If he bombed this, it could be very stressful indeed. Janus would certainly not be happy after he put all that work into helping him. Roman would probably laugh, or make some comment about how he knew this would happen. Why did he even care anyway? He didn’t. He was simply falling victim to a very stupid bout of anxiety. When his name is called, he hands Virgil back his cube and makes his way up to the stage. He takes a deep breath, says he is auditioning for no one in particular, and then is cued in. He performs how he was coached, completely ignoring his anxiety and doing the best he possibly could. When he’s finished, Thomas looks very pleased as the crowd claps. Someone even wolf whistles and Logan is fairly certain it’s Remus. He sits quietly for the rest of the auditions, Virgil passes him back the cube.

The cast list won’t be out until Monday, so all the kids have the weekend to spend enjoying their summer. Well, if they don’t enjoy theatre. Logan managed to be very productive on his days off. His chart was filled and he indulged in sleeping in on Saturday. For two days he was not checkmated by social interaction at all, and it was a paradise. He managed to burn through four books from the local library, and was working his way through the fifth when his phone went off. He picked it up, not expecting a text from Virgil.

‘hey. logan i just saw the cast list and...god i really hope you dont get straight-up murdered.’

This had confused him heavily, and then he realized what Virgil might mean and he felt anxiety bubble up into his stomach.

‘How did you see the cast list? Isn’t that classified until tomorrow?’

‘joan and i are tight, they let me see it.’

That makes sense, Virgil seemed close to Joan and Thomas. Closer than he was, at least.

‘Are you willing to tell me who I am playing?’

‘you have to act shocked tomorrow if i do.’

He started to panic, and he looked up at the sky as if pleading with God to make this a dream or a prank.

‘Okay? Please tell me I didn’t get Hamilton.’

‘...sorry…’

His phone goes off a number of times after this, but he had to put it down. The lead? He was playing Hamilton? Alexander Hamilton, the leading man of the hit Broadway musical Hamilton?

The bubble of anxiety in his chest welled up and made him so nauseous that he couldn’t speak for fear of throwing up.

He didn’t expect this, he didn’t even want this. He had been so anxious at the audition, and now he was the lead? What was he going to do? He couldn’t perform half as well as Roman! Why did Thomas choose him in the first place!? The idea of standing on that stage performing with an ensemble made him queasy, but Alexander Hamilton had solos. Songs where he stood alone and faced a crowd of eyes just pouring into him, staring at him. Staring into his soul and seeing that he was just a fake. A hack. The lights would be so bright that he would be able to see into the audience and make out faces. Then, after the audience decided they hated him, he would disappoint Thomas who had picked him to be the lead despite first hearing the songs on Monday. He would be hated by the other performers, a wildly untalented newcomer coming in and taking Roman’s spot as lead-And oh god, how would Roman feel? Virgil was right, Roman was going to kill him. It would be righteous too, Roman deserved it. He’d stolen away the lead role in a show he was passionate about. Why couldn’t the production have been something like Shakespeare? Or, even better, there should have been no production at all!

He manages to stumble his way to his bathroom before he throws up, and he hopes his mother didn’t hear him. His hands are still shaky as he cleans himself up and tries not to think about the play. He still feels nauseous and panicked. He spends thirty minutes calming himself down. His heart rate and breathing had risen substantially, and when he had finally calmed he realized he had even been crying. Managing to pick up his phone again, he looked at Virgil’s messages.

‘logan?’

Then a minute later, ‘logan are you okay?’

A few minutes later, ‘shit are you panicking?’

And a minute ago ‘text me back asap’

It’s nice to know it was concerning behaviour to Virgil as well. As he thought about his strange spiral of thoughts and forced himself not to think about them all at once, he realized what had just happened. What would continue to happen.

‘I am okay. I believe I just had a panic attack. I haven’t had one in years.’

‘youve had one before?’ Ah, right. He hadn’t discussed this with Virgil. He hadn’t discussed a lot of his past with Virgil.

‘When I was in middle school I had joined debate team, but I realized that public speaking gave me terrible anxiety. I used to take medication to help, as the panic attacks happened semi-regularly. Eventually, I stopped doing debate, and I stopped taking the medication as I thought that would be the end of it. I suppose that was reckless thinking, as it may just be a form of performance anxiety overall.’

‘why then, pray tell, are you fucking doing theatre?’ Logan smiles a little at that, he wondered too.

‘I thought it would go away.’ Logan can almost see Virgil rolling his eyes at the comment, ‘I will speak to my mother and get more medication.’

Then he thinks of Virgil's behaviour and asks, ‘Also, and I apologize if I am overstepping, do you not have an anxiety disorder?’

‘yeah ive got regular anxiety and social anxiety. its a bunch of bullshit. why do you think im on tech?’ He feels a little bad for Virgil now, anxiety disorders are not very pleasant. He only has bouts of anxiety situationally, he can’t imagine it being near-constant.

‘I assumed it was because you enjoyed it. I will go and speak with my mother immediately.’

‘was being sarcastic L. anyway, tell me how it goes.’ Logan stops when he reads this. Tell him how it goes? That is an invitation to message him regularly, right? It sounds like it, or at least to tell him about a problem that has been irking him. That...that is a thing meant for friends right?

‘Are you sure? I was under the impression that our speaking was reserved for the theatre.’

‘i mean, it can be. but we can be out-of-theatre friends too. if you want. no pressure.’

This...this was a very welcome surprise. He supposed that despite his rebound into performance anxiety, making one of his first friends in a very long time could prove enjoyable. Scheduling conflicts aside.

‘I would enjoy that. I will update you.’

When he asks his mother about going back on his anxiety medication, she immediately jumps into a very motherly mode. She pulls him into a hug, and pets his hair, asking if anything is wrong, if he’s okay, the whole nine yards. As much as any teenager would hate to admit it, he loved his mother very dearly. This affection was...a lot, yes, but he could endure it for her. She was only showing her care. It was late afternoon, so the doctor was still open. Out of some insane luck, they managed to get an appointment that afternoon and he had his medication by later that night.

‘Virgil, I am happy to inform you that I am now in possession of medication for my anxiety again!’

‘that was super quick, congrats, im happy for you L.’

They talked for much longer, and Logan felt pleased by his gain in mood. Surprisingly, he was even able to talk about the books he had read with Virgil. If Sunday was on his chart, Logan is certain Virgil would get a twelve for today. Even if that broke his scale.

He made it a point to ask his father to stop and get coffee the next morning. Partially for him, yes. The medication was new to his system again and had made him slightly groggy when it started taking effect. Though it was partially to get a “thank you” gift for Virgil. He had asked what kind of coffee he liked the previous night when they had talked, and ordered his favourite. He offered to pay for his and Virgil’s coffee, but his father simply shrugged.

“You’ve had a hard week, I’ll buy it for you.”

He smiled softly, appreciating his father’s kind gesture more than he would ever say out loud. When they arrived he even gave him a hug, which was hard with two coffee cups but he made it work.

Before entering the auditorium he took a deep breath, and reminded himself that everything was going to work out. Which may be a lie, but he would have to enter to find out wouldn’t he? With a push, he made his way in. He regretted it almost instantly. He could hear Roman yelling backstage, probably having seen the cast list. To be fair, Logan didn’t know who Roman was cast as, but he hopes it wasn’t all too bad. Quickly, he manages to avoid any kids who are in the auditorium seats and slinks his way up into the tech booth.

“Good morning, Virgil.” He says, setting down Virgil’s coffee in front of him.

Virgil looks surprised, “Morning, is this for me?”

“Who else would it be for?” Logan asks, making Virgil smirk.

“Thanks, you should hurry down and look at the cast list though. Roman might rip it to pieces.”

Logan nods and hurries out, but makes the decision to leave his drink with Virgil in case of any...emergency.

Ducking into the backstage area, he finds Patton trying to calm down Roman, who is very very angry. Remus is laughing again, but Logan doesn’t know what is so funny about his imminent demise. Janus is the first to notice his presence and gives him a sympathetic nod.

“Patton, he hadn’t even heard of Hamilton until a week ago! What kind of lead even is that!?”

“Look, I don’t understand it either, but when Thomas gets here you can talk to him! I’m sure Logan is going to be shocked when he gets…” Patton had noticed him and was now staring, “here…”

Roman notices and turns on him and shoves the cast list into his face, “Look at this, Logan! You! You are playing Hamilton! Are you happy!?”

Logan sighs deeply, taking the list and looking it over, “Not in the slightest if that makes you feel any better.”

“That actually somehow makes me feel worse!” Roman shouts then sits down in one of the backstage chairs to pout.

Janus holds back his laughter, “Wow Logan, this is totally not hilarious at all, Roman should totally be pouting like a little kid and throwing a fit.”

“Guys! Seriously! It’s not a bad thing! Logan’s audition was amazing!” Patton says as cheerfully as usual and walks closer to Logan to point at the cast list, “Look, I’m playing Eliza! That’s super awesome! We’ll be doing a lot of scenes together so I hope we can become better friends!”

Logan just nods, going back to reading. Him as Hamilton, with Roman as his understudy. Along with being his understudy, Roman was going to play George Washington. Logan liked George Washington’s part, and though he didn’t understand his being Hamilton, he’s glad Roman got a large role. Janus would be playing Aaron Burr, which made a lot of sense. Janus would be wonderful as Burr. Patton, as he already said, would be playing Eliza. This was...a bit of a problem, the more Logan thought about it. Patton would be playing his love interest. He...he would think about that when it mattered more. Remus would be playing King George, which Logan was glad about. Remus seemed to really want to play the villain. Though Remus’ name was next to another character’s name as well. Maria Reynolds. Remus Grimm playing King George and Maria Reynolds. He would be in a scene where Remus would have to actively seduce him.

Just as he started to wrap his head around this, Remus slung an arm over his shoulder.

“Ain’t it just great that I get to be a monarch and a whore!? I, personally, couldn’t be happier. Make money, get dick, I always say!” Remus says excitedly.

Logan chokes on his own spit, and has to cough a bit before he can reply, “I can see how the seduction angle appeals to you.”

“It won’t appeal to me if you get sick and Roman ends up Hamilton!”

Logan visibly cringes and Remus chuckles, “So you better not drop out or something, dork! I can do a lot of gross shit but acting out the seduction of my twin brother is way too gross.”

Thinking for a second, Logan turns to look at Remus, who is smiling at him. His teeth are so sharp. His eye shadow is bright violet and a mess. He really does look like he had recently been at a rave.

“I’ll be sure not to disappoint you, Remus.”

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boyneriver-fraser · 4 years

Photo

Ho! The house! 🗣

When I grow up, I want a personalized guided tour of the Big House on Fraser’s Ridge

The moment the last tenant hangs up his tool belt, I want to walk back and forth through that breezeway. Peek into every cupboard. Climb every stair. Rootle through every cubbyhole. Jump on every bed. There is so much to see, and touch, and smell… and I want to DO IT ALL!

Thoughts & Observations: S5E3 Free Will

Marsali is already proving to be the perfect apprentice. She’s motivated, inquisitive, intelligent, detail-oriented, logical, and curious about all sorts of new-fangled ideas and things there in Boston. Just wait till she tastes those cream pies.

Claire’s voiceover almost needs a Dun Dun Dun… soundtrack. Let’s hope she dares history with caution, and the copy of Dr. Rawlings’ Recommendations Fergus delivers to the printer doesn’t include scrawls and doodles of anything too new-fangled.

Really like the Jamie Payne (director) – Luke Schelhass (writer) combo! 😃

No doubt many people echoed Jamie’s Deo gratius when they realized we were being treated to a JamieClaire-centric episode. It worked well for me, but so did Between Two Fires. I find each of Jamie and Claire compelling on their own, pursing their individual interests and causes. I also like seeing their relationships with other characters. Call me kooky.

Callback #1: This one takes place in a kind of Upside Down. Remember S4E5 Savages, when Jamie returned to the Ridge from Woolam’s Creek, happy after discovering #MurtaghSaved? A shotgun-armed Claire was unable to sleep after the tragedies of Petronella’s and her baby’s measle deaths and Adawehi’s murder.

In Free Will, Jamie returns to the Ridge from Hillsborough, stunned by the Regulators’ tarring and feathering and by Lieutenant Knox’s murdering Ethan MacKinnon, and anxious about needing to form a militia. Despite missing Jamie while he’s away, Claire’s work on the Ridge and interaction with her children and grandchildren satisfies her and allows her to sleep soundly.

Fergus takes a mean shorthand! 🖌

We hear the first of many “Roger Mac(s)” to come.

“We’ll be taking yer whisky with us to share with the men. The finest I’ve tasted since leaving Scotland.” Fergus Claudel Fraser: Official Distiller of Fraser’s Ridge (I love this adaptation! I don’t think I mentioned in my The Fiery Cross episode review how much I loved Jamie’s calling Fergus to stand by his hand. Fergus, like Young Ian, is a man of worth.)

⚠️ Murtz Alert ⚠️ Oops… False alarm… 🙁 Fraser’s Ridge workforce includes a lot of silver-haired, ponytail-wearing tenants. 🤷🏻‍♀️

“Mr. Trouble” 😂 Too bad wee Robin Scott, who plays Germain, would be too young to attend most of the cast’s social outings. He would be the life of the party. 🎉

Does Marsali need Brianna’s help with reading because medical books are advanced academics and Brianna holds a degree from M.I.T, or because Laoghaire dropped the ball and didn’t educate her daughters? It’s safe to say Laoghaire didn’t encourage them to read anything that sat on a witch’s bookshelf.

Callback #2: The JamieClaire-on-horseback-led convoy’s leaving Fraser’s Ridge took me back to S2E8 The Fox’s Lair and E9 Je Suis Prest. Did you notice the pecking order? 1: Colonel & Physician. 2: Captain. 3: Official Distiller. Priorities are important, during times of peace and of war.

So… Stephen Bonnet’s free from incarceration, and recently sighted in Wilmington? How far is Wilmington from Fraser’s Ridge? Does it matter almost every fit and young man, almost every weapon, and the only doctor are on the road to Brownsville, while Bonnet’s purported child and the child’s mother are back with the not-so-fit-nor-young-nor-armed men on Fraser’s Ridge? I suppose it doesn’t, since the mother herself knows Bonnet could be consulting a map and stealing a horse as we speak. I somehow doubt her husband and named father of her child would agree… if he only knew.

Callback #3: Colonel Jamie tells Captain Roger there’s no time to train the militia, so he’ll teach them to fight like Highlanders, to gather and scatter on his command. Can you say Dougal MacKenzie in S2E9 Je Suis Prest? Sure. I knew you could.

Thank goodness for Closed Captioning. Growing up immersed in Scots (language, accents, people), I rarely “huh?” during Outlander, but I have no ear for Welsh, and John Quincy Myers keeps my clicking that CC button. And his lines are so worth understanding! 😂

Callback #4: The fireside banter and guy-talk, with Claire’s being the only participant without a Y chromosome, takes me back to S1E5 Rent. Good times.

We’re slowly adding to the books’ Fraser’s Ridge roster. We already know Isaiah Morton and Ronnie Sinclair. Around the fire we meet brothers Evan and Kenny Lindsay, and Geordie Chisholm. Isaiah Morton on his way to Brownsville? What could go wrong?

Speaking of books, so much of Fireside Chat reminded me of The Fiery Cross, right down to Jamie’s not needing to worry whether his feet or his hair might burn in order to sleep “warm.” Nudge, nudge, wink, wink. Say no more.

I am very impressed with Paul Gorman’s playing the Beardsley twins, and duly impressed with his characters’ appearing onscreen at the same time. Well done! BUT… the BEST part of the entire Twins Story introduction was the explanation for Keziah’s missing britches. 😻

You’re lucky, Lizzie Wemyss, I’m completely committed to Murtz, because any man who would forgo his pants to keep kittens warm is my kind of man. ❤️

I wonder if Father Fogden ever missed his mirror?

I couldn’t begin to imagine those young men’s lives. Orphaned at two, with four sisters dead at sea. Sold on a 30-year term, starved, beaten, deafened… and made to sleep in a barn that is too cold for goats.

Josiah isn’t going to avoid Claire’s scary looking medical tools for long if he keeps drawing attention to his sore throat. Owie!

More book people, People: Joan, Hugh, and Iain Òg Findlay. In The Fiery Cross Roger also meets with Iain Mòr, Joan’s brother and head of the family.

Two years, three months, and five days…

It’s probably the meds, but when Fanny Beardsley slams the door in Jamie’s face, I imagined her turning to the goats and saying, “I told ‘im we got already got one.”

I’m thankful my TV’s Smell-o-Vision™ is out of order. Brianna, oh she who could not tolerate an autopsied torso, is thankful she skipped this road trip all together.

The direction, lighting, special effects, makeup, and prosthetics are excellent in this part of the episode and Mr. McCreary has outdone himself with the soundtrack. Truly a House of Horrors, Chez Beardsley.

“None of us could give him a baby.” Um, I hate to break it to you, Aaron, but I suspect it’s your problem, not any of your five wives’.

Brit Bronwyn James gives Baltimore Fanny a decent generic American accent.

Poor Jamie! He knows the pain of sending Claire back through the stones. Contemplating sending his beloved daughter and grandson, and tolerated son-in-law, is too much. 😖

Poor Fanny! To live as she has for two years, three months, and five days with that “wretch,” and awaken to see Jamie and Claire’s spooning, peacefully sleeping in her living room. I’d sneak off in the dead of night, too.

My grand-père went to Hillsborough and all I got was a wagon full of goats. 🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐

“I’ll do what must be done.” No foreshadowing, thank you very much. James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser has suffered enough.

__________

March 2, 2020

Photo: Starz, Screenshots: @boyneriver-fraser Jon Gary Steele Twitter, W Network/Global TV app, Gifs: @abreathofsnowandwaffles (1 & 2), @jemscorner (3), @avasetocallmyown (4), @grantcary (5), @mistress-gif (6 & 7)

#Outlander #Personal #Review #The Fiery Cross #S5E3 Free Will #Claire Fraser #Jamie Fraser #Roger MacKenzie #Fergus Claudel Fraser #Geordie Chisholm #Adso #Mama ComfyPants & The Kittens #193 #030220

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nctsiren · 3 years

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Thank you for turning on anon uwu for the ask game thingy can I ask these for all of the girls? daydreams, caress, ivory, golden, freckles, twilight, poppy, clouds, roses, lollipop, dimples, whisper, pencil, honey, velvet, strawberry, kiss, shampoo, lace, sapphos?

hewwo anon!!! thank u for requesting!! i’m sorry it’s late :(( hope you enjoy, nonetheless!! i enjoyed writing it 🥺

daydream-

hyeyoung: “i think i’ll say joan jett or debbie harry!! i admire them a lot, i love their music, and i think it’d be fun to be a rock singer.”

mila: “i think it’d be nice to be beetle. i’ve always wondered how his mind works. being a dog seems cool”

evie was answered in my other post!!

jimin: “seulgi unnie!! i’ve always wondered what it would feel like to be perfect ;)”

caress-

hyeyoung: “i love to snuggle... i like when johnny lays between my legs with his head on my chest. it makes me so happy.”

mila: “yes... but i play hard to get with some of the wayv members. i feel at ease cuddling with ten.”

evie was answered in my other post!!

jimin: “there are hundreds of youtube comps of me being snuggly and affectionate .. i just love my members”

ivory-

hyeyoung: “i wear matching sets. like the pants and the button up shirt? or the silk/satin shorts and matching tank tops. i love cute pajamas, i always have.”

mila: “i usually wear a sports bra and boxers or shorts.”

evie: “big shirt and my underwear.”

jimin: “usually a big hoodie and shorts!”

golden-

hyeyoung: “i cannot choose!! i own lots of stationary, and i scrapbook, as well.”

mila: “i’m not really a stationary person. just gimme some lined paper and i am all good.”

evie: “i love a good pen.”

jimin: “AHH i’m a sucker for the cute stationary cards. i like writing letters and notes”

freckles-

hyeyoung: “honestly, i have a pair of black cigarette pants that i love to pieces. i wear them often- they just go with everything and are so comfortable!”

mila: “i... honestly probably this hoodie i stole from lucas. it’s super big and comfy. if i don’t wear it at certain times i feel like something bad will happen ://“

evie: “i have this big, chunky grandpa sweater that’s striped and i wear it to the point where it might start falling apart.”

jimin: “it’s not really a clothing item, but i’ve worn the lily necklace chenle gave me every day since i got it. and my necklace that’s just my name, jimin, in cursive.”

twilight (this is their best friend outside of the other girls)-

hyeyoung: “i know it’s cheesy, but johnny, for obvious reasons... i’m also quite close to irene unnie, as well as jaehyun and taeyong. it’s hard for me to pick.”

mila: “ten.”

evie: “i legitimately cannot pick outside of the girls... maybe lucas... or yuta... or doyo... i don’t fucking know.”

jimin: “chenle- i’m stuck with him.”

poppy-

hyeyoung: “pink. i’m not even much of a pink girl, but pastel pink is lovely.”

mila: “is... pastel orange a thing? i see it in my mind, but i don’t know if anyone else can.”

evie: “green. green is my favorite color in general, all shades.”

jimin: “lavender and periwinkle are my favorite colors outside of grey and white.”

clouds-

hyeyoung: “it was me alone in a practice room, but the room had large windows in it and it was so light. i was dancing- there was no music playling, but i still was. i felt so happy, and i stopped after twirling because johnny had arrived and he just smiled at me with so much love in his eyes.”

mila: “i honestly don’t remember my dreams, but i remember how i felt during them?”

evie was answered in my other post!!

jimin: “all of my dreams are weird and i don’t have a favorite because they’re too bizarre to enjoy.”

roses-

hyeyoung: “red roses... my late grandma, who was the person i loved most in the world, loved red roses.”

mila: “i think... tulips.”

evie was answered in my other post!!

jimin: “lilies, but not because of my name. my loved ones give them to me because of my name, but i love them because i receive them from my loved ones LMAO”

lollipop-

hyeyoung: “lipstick is my favorite. nice reds and pinks. i never go dark with lipstick- only dark eye makeup.”

mila: “i love ALL makeup”

evie: “i kind of hate wearing makeup, but i guess i’d pick eyebrow stuff.”

jimin: “mascara and blush! i like the heavy blush look.”

dimples-

hyeyoung: “my favorite thing is when i see people’s eyes crinkle when they smile. smiles and lips- oh, lips- are so beautiful.”

mila: “i love the variety of expressions that people can show even in a matter of seconds. i love seeing the range of emotions and thoughts on people’s faces.”

evie: “i love noses. all noses. also, i think facial structures are so lovely and unique. everyone is different.”

jimin: “smiles and eyes. i think eyes are so, so beautiful. i’ve never met anyone with eyes that aren’t beautiful. and smiles are heavenly because seeing a person’s joy written on their face is priceless.”

whisper-

hyeyoung: “i usually get the amount you’re supposed to get. i tend to go to bed earlier and wake up earlier. my alarm is santeria by sublime, like johnny’s...”

mila: “i have horrible, horrible insomnia and only get a very little amount.”

evie was answered on my other post!! ++ she also will sleep through ANYTHING even her alarms

jimin: “i either get too much or too little.”

pencil-

hyeyoung: “i bullet journal to plan, and i also write down the things that make me anxious during the day so that i can reflect and see what i could do next time to sooth myself more”

mila: “lined notebooks full of songs that i keep in a specific drawer. if i need to get out anything, it escapes my mind in a song”

evie: “my journals are 10% words, 90% drawings.”

jimin: “i have my song journals, but then i have my jimin journals which hold every intimate thought or emotion i have ever felt.”

honey-

hyeyoung: “baby or love. those are what johnny most commonly calls me. he likes to call me angel, too, and that really gets me :) .. we also call each other chipmunk.”

mila: “i used to hate being called lala, but now i love it. it’s also cute when evie calls me baozi, because i call her shumai. i also like bun.”

evie’s is answered on my other post!!

jimin: “uhh... baby, minmin (thanks, jisung), i like when people call me flower too 🥺”

velvet-

hyeyoung: “my first crush? i saw kurt cobain when i was little and thought he was the most handsome man i’d ever seen- i listened to a lot of nirvana growing up. a lot of people don’t expect me to like things like grunge or rock, but it’s very much my style!! im just shy and don’t dress to reflect it.”

mila: “i watched hercules when i was really little and became obsessed with meg. yup. it was the classic ‘i just thought i wanted to be her!’ but nope. gay.”

evie: “i don’t remember?! i think it was when i was in secondary school, because i didn’t like anyone for a while. just this classmate... and i was a cringe little fuck.”

jimin: “the first notable one i remember was when i was in second grade... i was reading twilight and fell in love with edward. yes, i was reading twilight in second grade, yes when i got to breaking dawn my mom didn’t let me read part of the honeymoon. i also had a crush on bella, and to this day, i would be in a throuple with robert pattinson and kristen stewart.”

strawberry-

hyeyoung: “cherries and strawberries, because they taste best covered in chocolate.”

mila: “mangos are so fucking good.”

evie: “grapes are arguably the best fruit and gumdrop grapes are arguably the best kind.”

jimin: “watermelon, bitchesssss”

kiss-

hyeyoung: “i mean, my first kiss was with a boy i was friends with when i was in america. we had both smoked a cigarette before it (i just wanted to try it) so it tasted bad. the other guys i kissed i weren’t proper friends with, and then johnny.”

mila: “um, ive kissed evie, like, when we were dating. i havent kissed many people to be honest...”

evie: “i kissed mila, i’ve kissed lily (a friendly peck), i’ve ALMOST kissed hyeyoung, i’ve kissed some of my guy friends and girl friends predebut- so, yes, i have kissed friends. and people who aren’t friends. i just like to kiss.”

jimin: “... sigh. renjun, chenle, evie, The Ex We Don’t Talk About, yeri (friendly, like with evie), and probably a few other friends in a non-romantic way? i dunno”

shampoo-

hyeyoung: “my favorite scent is johnny’s versace cologne, his shampoo, and his skin. definitely roses. i also love my perfume smell, clean linen, and i love the smell of champagne.”

mila: “i like the smell of cigarettes... YES i know it’s bad, but it calms me down. i’d also pick the smell of rain, or beetle, because he always smells good.”

evie: “the smell of paint and pencils is so comforting. i also like nature smells. when the air smells cold, it’s so nice. and the OCEAN.”

jimin: “home-y smells? laundry, and warm smells... lavender and florals, my perfume, and the smell of summer nights and bonfires. also any of my members.”

lace-

hyeyoung: definitely a dress person, is definitely in love with the classiness and sleeves of that first one, and is definitely happy about how sexy she looks in that second one.

mila: is NOT a dress person and prefers dresses that she can go braless with and are comfortable

evie: this is just Evie and we all know it

jimin: the first one is cute on it’s own AND with a big sweater/sweatshirt over it, and the second one make her feel like she on a european holiday

sapphos-

hyeyoung: “jiminnie :) she writes such beautiful poetry- i’m very thankful that she chose to share some with me!”

mila: “i don’t think i have a favorite poet, to be honest... i like kate bush, though, and i know she’s a singer, but she’s truly a poet.”

evie: “michael faudet. he wrote a series of poetry books, his first is called ‘dirty pretty things’ and it’s really 18+ but i thought it was gorgeous. i have all of his books.”

jimin: “asking me to pick a favorite poet is like asking me to pick a favorite member- can’t do it.”

#nct siren #nct siren;; q&a #nct siren;; misc #just siren things #hyeyoung shon #mila zhou #evie wu #lily na

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caffeinated-whump · 3 years

Text

adding shadows to the walls of the cave

“adding shadows to the walls of the cave”

Written for @badthingshappenbingo

Prompt: “Made a lab rat”

Fandom: The Bright Sessions

Whumpee: Joan Bright

Warnings: Substance abuse, addiction, sedation, medical experimentation, major character death.

Notes: Title is from “Sedated” by Hozier. Originally uploaded to AO3... several months ago and forgot to post here.

Joan wakes up strapped to a table. No matter how many times she wakes that way, it never gets less disorienting. She hates waking up unable to move. Her arms, legs, torso, and even her neck are strapped down, there’s a gag in her mouth, and all she can see above her is the blinding fluorescent lights of the lab. She winces a little, squeezing her eyes shut and praying she’ll be able and allowed to fall back asleep, given that she woke up naturally and there doesn’t seem to be anyone around.

She’s not sure why or how long she’s been here, and she’s honestly not sure she wants to find out. No, she’ll just go back to sleep— or at the very least pretend to, and pray that they’ll put her under before whatever experiment they’re doing today.

That would be nice. A few hours in a nice, comfortable, sedative-induced nap. And then she would wake back up in her comfortable-enough cell and be able to get back to reading one of the books she’d annoyed Ellie into letting her have. As pathetic as it sounds, Joan had moved past the point of escape attempts a long time ago. She’d passed the point of trying to plead with Ellie or any of the scientists or guards. She’d passed the point of ever hoping to get out of here. It had been a reasonable decision at the time. She had her cell. It wasn’t too warm or comfortable, but she had a decent cot and an extra blanket, and a pillow that was, well… not entirely awful. She had her books to keep her from getting bored. Mostly textbooks and research material, because God forbid Ellie Wadsworth not have the most intellectual conversation partner possible when she stood outside Joan’s cell and tried to (metaphorically, thankfully) pick her brain for a half hour or so every few days. It wasn’t that she doesn’t enjoy those just fine, but given her circumstances, she had always felt a little pang of delight every time something fiction ended up getting tossed her way. Fiction meant a brief escape from reality. Then again, it hasn’t been a very effective escape as of late. Most importantly, though, she had Mark. They let her see him once a week. They brought them both to an observation room and let them sit at a table. They got to talk, and she relished it, even if there wasn’t much to talk about. They got to hug when their hour of visiting was up and it had been the only thing in Joan’s life that mattered much at all. It was why she brought herself to wake up every day, what kept her from snapping and punching Ellie in the face every time she tried to talk to her. It’s what she thinks about every time she’s in pain. Any pain was worth the chance to hug her brother. The pain had been worth it. And it looks as though she’s going to be reminded of the price she’d paid soon, because the scientists who have just entered the room are chattering loudly, though she can unfortunately barely make out anything about the experiment. She hates to admit that she likes when Ellie is in the room. Ellie always tells her what they’re doing to her. She talks to Joan about what’s happening to her own body like she’s a patient whose file they’re reading together. It outrages her, but it’s better than having no clue what’s going on. Ellie isn’t here right now, though. At least, she can’t hear her. And so, no one explains to her what the nodes they’re attaching to her are for. She almost entertains the notion of trying to thrash around on the table. Being non-cooperative enough that they’ll have to sedate her to proceed with whatever they’re doing today. Normally, she’d be afraid of that sort of thing happening. Afraid of being unconscious and having her body left under the control of people who certainly don’t have her best interest at heart. But she’s come to terms with the fact that nothing she could do would be able to stop them. She can’t save herself. And if she can’t stop them from doing whatever it is they’re going to do to her, she might as well not have to suffer through it. She’d also normally be terrified of the dependence she’s coming to have on sedation, but if it’s an addiction, it’s not like her life could be made much worse for it. No, for now, all that whatever it is they give her does is allow her a sleep that comes swiftly and is lacking in nightmares. If it causes her mind and body to slowly deteriorate, then what does it matter? All that can really mean is a tough break for the people experimenting on her. If it suckers her in, preying on the addictive tendencies she knows run in her family, then so what? It’s not like she has much of a life to be taken over anymore. At some point, your life gets to be so pointless, monotonous, and bad that that which is harmful can no longer harm you more than your surroundings already have. It’s not a circumstance she enjoys being in, but she was never exactly given the choice. She might as well take pleasure where she can find it, given her newly found lack of consequence. She starts to kick at her restraints, failing miserably at much actual movement, but making up for it by continuing to thrash the rest of her body as much as possible. The hands that grab hold of her trying to still her make her skin crawl, and so she tries as best she can to force them off of her. She’s done with the pain that these experiments always bring. Done with having to sit silently through being poked and prodded and monitored as they use her for God knows what. Observing the physical and mental effects on her of the abilities of the patients they bring in, trying to observe her brain’s reactions to things like pain compared to that of an atypical, testing new additions to Ellie’s long-incomplete attempt at immunity. She tries to thrash her body as much as she can. She squirms so much that the strain of her limbs and neck against the straps hurts. She doesn’t care. When her limbs grow tired and they’re capable of holding her in place more successfully, she tries to scream around the cloth in her mouth. It comes out muffled, but between that and her weakened yet persistent attempts at movement, it appears she’s starting to get on their nerves, because all of a sudden, one of them is walking towards her, syringe in hand. She feels the unpleasant prick of the needle in her neck, and though it isn't taking effect yet, she immediately quiets down. She relaxes her muscles on her own before they begin to relax involuntarily. Her vision is starting to fade as she feels them start to hook her up to more machines. As she closes her eyes and tries to distract herself from the unpleasant and intrusive feeling, she briefly wonders what the experiment is. She’s barely able to think of a possibility before she feels herself start to slip away. She wakes back in her cell, and, upon sitting up, is greeted by a rather unfortunate sight. “Hello, Joan.” She grunts and falls back down onto her cot. “I heard about your little stunt during the experiment today.” Ellie continues talking, apparently unfazed by Joan’s lack of interest. “I really wish you would learn to cooperate.” Despite having years of experience telling her otherwise, Joan hopes that Ellie won’t continue on the conversation if she’s the only one talking. Her assumption is right, and her hopes are swiftly crushed. Though she barely registers the feeling of disappointment anymore. “You used to behave so well. What happened?” While she may be too numb to feel disappointed, irritation and anger still has the ability to pervasively creep its way into her gut. “What happened?” she spits through gritted teeth. “I understand you’re upset about Mark, but you need to understand that accidents happe--” “Oh, so tell me,” she responds, “was it an accident that you kidnapped him and locked him up down here? Was it an accident that you tortured him with all your sick experiments? Tell me, Ellie, was it a fucking accident that you forced him into an experiment with that poor girl, gave her an untested and unsafe serum, and killed her?” “Some of those things were accidental, yes--” Joan sits up fully this time, nearly feeling sick as she stares into the eyes of a person she used to care about, used to love. “I know that accidents happen, Ellie. But shit like what happened to Mark doesn’t happen without a series of unforgivable and reprehensible shit happening beforehand. And now because of that reprehensible shit--” she pauses what has turned into shouting to wipe the tears that have begun to flow from her eyes. “...Because of you I might never be able to see him again. So yes, I’m still fucking upset.” Ellie doesn’t respond to that, and Joan wishes she could savor the smugness she would feel about leaving her speechless under any other circumstance. Instead of thinking of a comeback, Ellie shifts her weight almost awkwardly and changes the subject. “Your dependence on sedatives is really starting to concern me, Joan.” And Joan hates that she does sound it, concerned. After all she’s done, she still thinks she has the right to feel concerned for her favorite lab rat. “Go to hell.” Wadsworth sighs. “You know, I really was hoping we could have a civil conv--” “Go. To. Hell.” Joan watches as the director of the facility takes a second, brushes off her blazer, and plasters an almost sickening smile across her face. “You don’t know the meaning of hell, Joan. Not yet.” With that, she walks away. Joan can’t help but snort. Ellie and her fucking fear tactics. ‘You don’t know the meaning of hell.’ Bullshit. The next time she finds herself strapped down, it doesn’t take her by surprise. No, they go about it her least favorite way. By opening the door to her cell, grabbing her by the hands and marching her down to the room where she supposes they’ll be conducting today’s experiment. They take her to a lab. That and the fact that there doesn’t seem to be an atypical present is what tips her off to the fact that this is probably a drug trial of some sort. Maybe Ellie’s taken another crack at immunity. They strap her down quite easily. She’s five feet tall, malnourished, and outnumbered. Even what little resistance she could attempt likely wouldn’t have had much effect. Thankfully, she isn’t gagged. The reason for which is revealed when the door on the other side of the room opens only seconds later, and in walks Wadsworth. “Joan!” she greets her eagerly, as though she’s waving to a friend across the street, not staring down at a human test subject strapped to a table. “Today’s experiment is a big one.” She can tell that by the grin on Ellie’s face. She doesn’t know that she’s ever seen her this excited about an experiment. As Ellie attempts to make conversation, she watches scientists crowd around her, once again hooking her up to machines and monitors. “Wonderful,” she replies deadpan. “Come on, Joan. I think you’ll be very excited if this goes as planned.” “I seriously doubt that.” “Haven’t you ever wondered if you could do it too?” “What?” “The things your brother can do. It’s biological, Joan. It’s a gene. It has to be. Haven’t you ever wondered if you had it too?” That makes her go quiet a bit. “I... Yes. I’ve wondered.” She’s too taken aback to not answer honestly, besides, that’s probably the answer Ellie would have tried to prod out of her eventually. “But I’m well past the age at which atypical abilities typically present. It’s definitely possible, though entirely unlikely, and I really doubt--” “Exactly, Joan. It’s possible. And it might be even more possible after today.” If she had been told that that was a possibility a year ago, she’d be so curious, fascinated, excited. But now there’s an uneasy feeling settling over her. She’s scared. “How?” “Well, obviously the end game here would be to be able to give abilities to a person with no atypical genes. But for now, this would be a major step in the right direction. The plan is to attempt to activate your atypical gene, with…” Joan tries to move her head enough to watch as Ellie disappears briefly out of her line of sight. She returns with a vial in hand. “... this experimental serum.” The gears in her head are turning. This is a thing they’d talked about before, in theory. Things she’d read papers and hypotheses on, but the full idea had never been developed enough to pose an actual experiment. She knows how they’ve speculated at making this work. “How did you make it? What’s-- What’s in the serum?” Ellie seems to notice the sheer anger beginning to spread across Joan’s face. “Joan, you have to understand. We have a very unique opportunity with you two here.” “You used his DNA.” “Yes. We did.” “How dare you. ” “Really, Joan, you know that this is hardly one of the most invasive experiments we’ve--” “No! I don’t care! You tortured him without end, took away whatever semblance of a life he had left and now you’re still fucking using him. God, he can’t even escape from you people and your sick games by being unconscious.” “You need to calm down.” “I need to calm down? No! Fuck you! Fuck you!” Ellie doesn’t respond to Joan’s shouting, only sighs and turns towards someone who she can’t see. “Dr. Carlton? Yes, can you hand me the-- thank you.” She watches as Ellie is handed the dreaded piece of cloth that is usually stuffed in her mouth during experiments as she continues to shout obscenities at her. She’s in the middle of forming another angry insult as she feels it being crammed into her mouth, making what she was about to yell be cut off and morphed into a muffled cry. Her head is pushed up a bit and she feels the cloth tied tightly around it. Then, Ellie picks up a syringe. She tries to put up a fight but Ellie grabs her arm and holds it in place as she injects her with the serum. The injection itself stings a bit, but the prick of a needle is a discomfort Joan has grown incredibly used to. The real pain comes seconds later. It feels like fire in her veins. Like something toxic is running through her, sending jolts through every nerve, making her want to scream. She tries to. It comes out muffled. The pain continues to shoot through her, causing her to squirm and shout as the people around her all rush to observe and murmur about whatever is happening on the monitors. Her screams grow louder, as, with time, the pain only continues to get worse. She feels tears start to run down her face and before she knows it she’s writhing half of it being her body’s response to the pain and half of it being desperation. A call for attention. Maybe someone will see that she’s hurting and try to figure out what was going wrong, try to make it stop, or better yet just put her under. And thankfully, it looks like someone is on their way to do just that. A person in a lab coat is approaching her with another syringe and a concerned expression. Then, a voice comes from behind her. “No, don’t sedate her. She needs to learn to cooperate.” Just the sound of Ellie’s voice causes her to be overcome with anger as yet another wave of pain rolls through her. This time, it’s excruciating. She feels like every nerve in her body has been set on fire and stabbed with a thousand needles, then an intense throbbing feeling grows in her head. She screams as loud as her lungs will allow her, twisting her body at every angle possible as she tries to writhe against her restraints. The headache dissipates and as it does, she realizes that the burning is gone too. All that’s left is a faint buzzing. An energy running through her that leaves just a bit of a sting. She keeps thrashing. She’s angry, and she’s scared, and she’s been in so much pain for so long that it’s finally catching up to her, and the jolt of energy she’s still feeling is demanding she do something with it. She must be getting on Ellie’s nerves enough by now, because soon enough, she’s being unhooked. Several guards are rushing into the room and Ellie is demanding they ‘take her back to her cell till she calms down’. She’s grabbed by the arms and practically carried from the room as Ellie cuts through ahead of the guards and down the hallway. There’s still a burning rage in her gut, so much so that her skin is practically itching with the need to make her pay. Then, all of a sudden her thrashing gets more violent. She pushes back at the guards, resisting their attempts to gain control of her as she fights to break free of their grasp, and before she knows it she’s charging down the hall after the woman who ruined her life. Wadsworth doesn’t want to sedate her, to let this fucking misery stop. That’s fine. She’ll change her mind. She tackles Ellie to the ground with a surprising force, but just as she raises a fist, she feels herself being pulled back. She resists again, taking a swing at the guard closest to her, then another, then another. Soon, even more guards are surrounding her, attempting to take her down as she attacks them desperately. She hits, bites, punches, kicks. She can barely keep track of her own movements as she attempts to fend off one after the other. Only one guard really piques her interest. The one carrying her relief in a small syringe. She tackles another guard to the ground desperately and sure enough, the other comes rushing over, sticking the needle into her neck the second she leaves herself exposed. She feels dizzy for a second. And then she feels another rush of energy. She throws a punch and sees a spurt of blood as her fist connects with the nose of the guard beneath her. The sedative isn’t kicking in yet and the rushing of adrenaline through her veins remains more intense than anything she’s ever felt, as though there’s something vicious and violent inside of her that needs to make itself known. Why isn’t she losing consciousness yet? Why is she still angry, and fighting, and in pain? What the hell was in that serum? What did they do to her? She feels another syringe and another set of hands trying to pull her back, and again, the world spins for only a minute before the surge of energy returns. Before she knows it, she’s being pinned against the wall. Several people are holding her down as she’s injected with sedative after sedative, none of them stopping her from kicking and shouting, only weakening her slightly. She can hear Ellie shouting at them to stop, telling them that that’s enough, warning them that they were going to hurt her. But every time they allowed Joan to even so much as regain her strength from a brief bout of drug-induced dizziness, she lunged at them with all her might and they had to struggle just to get her back up against the wall. They’re not listening to Wadsworth anymore. They’re doing they’re best to stay unscathed as Joan rages against them, tranquilizing her and watching her grow dizzy and get over it over and over again, hoping that eventually something will take. And then, just as she’s growing fatigued, just as the thrum of energy is starting to slow down, just as she feels herself begin to weaken, she’s stuck with another needle. This time, her muscles start to relax. Within seconds, she goes limp, being held up on her feet only by the arms of the guards still pinning her to the wall. Only, it doesn’t feel as peaceful as it had before. Something feels wrong. Something is starting to hurt, everything is starting to hurt. It feels like she’s being hit by everything they’d given her at once, which, she’s starting to realize through the intense dizziness and stupor, she probably is. She feels herself start to shake as the room starts to spin. She can’t breathe. Ellie is yelling. Ellie is yelling a lot, and she can barely make out most of it. She can make out her name, though. Why is Ellie calling for her? What’s happening? Where is she? Why can’t she breathe. She feels herself hit the floor as her vision starts to spot with black and she struggles, taking all her strength just to try and take a breath. She feels someone gripping her shoulders and she thinks she can make out Ellie yelling something, though her vision is fully fading to black now and there’s a faint humming in her head drowning out most sound. Then, the burning pressure in her lungs releases, giving way not to air, but to calm. Her vision seems to come back, not in the sense that she can see anything but black, but in the sense that she feels what she’s seeing is right. There is no energy coursing through her. There’s no energy, no anger, no fear, no pain. She feels light. Calm. She feels happy. The sound of her ears ringing is beginning to fade, and now, over it, she swears she can hear her brother’s voice.

#the bright sessions #joan bright #ellie wadsworth #whump writing #whump #whump community #whump fic #bad things happen bingo

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mickmarstookmyheart · 4 years

Text

Family Tour pt 2

Pairing: Mick Mars X Reader

Summary: (Y/N) is pretty worn-out. Some fluff moments at the beach, rehearsals and John being John?

"(Y/N)! Hey, are you even listening?" Vince asked when you barely said a word since he sat down to your table in the café of the hotel. You were supporting your head with your hand and stirring your coffee.

"What? Oh, sorry, Vinnie. What did you say?" You murmured.

"That I and the guys will go to a bar tonight so don't look for us. And what is going on with you? You look horrible."

"Thanks. You are being very kind, as always. I didn't expect anything else. And to answer to your outgoing tonight, I don't care, to be honest. At least, you will damage the rooms there and not here."

"You have serious problems, (Y/N). Go and have some sleep cause you look like who hasn't slept in 3 days." He was almost right. You slept an hour or two last night. And less the previous one. You had dark circles under your eyes and your eyes were crimson red. When you didn't react anything, Vince stood up and bend down next to you. "I'm worried about you. Take care." He placed a soft kiss on your cheek to assure you about what he said and left the café. You were happy that someone was worried about you, though this fact couldn't help your situation. The tour and the fact that John could appear at any time made you exhausted and worn-out. The constant worrying and stress just beat you.

You were reading the daily news and sipping your coffee when you heard a little yell. You lifted your head and saw Zoe and Mick, hand in hand approaching you. Zoe let Mick's hand and rushed to you as you spread your arms wide.

"Good morning, sweetheart. Did you sleep well?" You asked while picking her up and sat her on your knees. You rested your chin on her shoulders and filled your lungs with the scent of her hair and clothes. You smiled when she snuggled closer to you.

"Yes, mommy. And imagine I had a marvelous dream!" She said while she gesticulated.

"Really? And will you tell me?" You asked tickling her belly. In the meantime, Mick took the seat which Vince sat on before and was gazing at you and your daughter with pure love.

"No." She shook her head.

"And why not?"

"Daddy said that if I tell you then it won't happen. And I want this to happen." You raised an eyebrow to Mick who just shrugged but the corner of his mouth lifted.

"I see. Then I hope it will come true." You kissed the top of her head and hugged her tight. She was one of the reasons you didn't get mad. You tried to keep your promise to Mick that you won't neglect her, even it wasn't your intention on the first day. As Mick was peering you and Zoe, he noticed the small details of your look. He hated that you looked this bad, and he respected you the most. He somehow had a bad feeling though. You won't bear this long, even if you are a though person. Zoe's eyes lit up when Neil and Elizabeth appeared in the room, too, along with Heather and Tommy.

"Sorry, guys for disturbing." Heather started. "Just these two little troublemakers wanted to see Zoe. Is it a problem if I bring her with us?"

"You never disturb Heather. And I don't know what would I do without you, to be honest. And where are you going?"

"Just McDonald's to grab some food. Neil has been nagging me that he wants to eat burgers for two days." You just shook your head at the kid who just giggled. Your brows drew together.

"Would you mind if we join, too?"

∆

Heather, Tommy, and Vince's children were sitting in the backseat of the car while Mick drove and Zoe in your lap. Joan Jett's I Love Rock 'n' Roll was played on the radio, and you all sang along with it. Tommy's voice was pretty annoying but you laughed whenever he tried the high notes. Zoe played her air guitar earning a chuckle from Mick. You shared a look with him, he was happy that you spent some time with him and your daughter. Even if it was just a morning.

"There it is!" Neil screamed as he saw the restaurant. Mick drove in the drive-through and stopped by the window.

"Good morning, sir. What can I get you?" The lady asked preparing a note to jot down your order.

"Just a black coffee," Mick said earning a confused look from the worker and a big boo from you and the others. He was smirking but leaned out of the window to tell the rest of the order. When you got your food he didn't stop, instead, he jammed the car and headed towards the beach. The children yelled from the sudden speed but enjoyed every minute of it.

"Yes, dude!" Tommy screamed patting Mick's shoulder. When you arrived there you opened the back of the car and sat inside while consuming your food. Heather and Tommy sat on the top of the car watching the waves crashing the coast. It was a dazzling summer day with a vivid blue sky and a light breeze coming from the ocean. When the kids finished they ran down and started to build a fort from the sand. You leaned your head on Mick's shoulder as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead. You hummed and closed your eyes from the touch and intertwined your fingers.

"You know, I could get used to this pretty easily." Mick sighed. "Don't you think, Mrs. Mars?" He playfully pushed your shoulders with his.

"Me, too, Mr. Mars." You wanted nothing else than to stay there, watching the ocean, listening, and watching the kids playing around and staying this close to Mick. Though, you would happily leave out the moans from Tommy and Heather from the top of the car.

∆

However, you would stay much longer down the beach, the show must go on. Time for concerts, to prepare everything for everyone. To make sure the bands won't need to worry about anything, not that they were so stressed anytime.

"Hey, (Y/N), give me that bottle!" Nikki demanded. He looked fucked up, he was doing drugs as much as he could, not giving a damn about his well-being.

"Get it for yourself." Does using the word 'please' is this hard? You mumbled and kept filling in documents. The band just finished their rehearsal and it was time for Guns N Roses.

"Don't be this bitchy." Nikki grunted as he went backstage, probably to have a bump again.

"Don't listen to him," Vince noted as he jumped down from the stage next to you.

"Anyway, you look much better. And thanks, for treating Neil and Elizabeth as if they were yours. I appreciate it."

"Well, I feel better. But it's only a matter of time until someone pisses me off. And anytime, Vinnie. They are great kids."

"You are great, (Y/N)." He said while he was walking backward, accidentally bumping into Axl.

"Watch where you are going." They shared a not so friendly look. They weren't fond of each other from the very beginning, but you couldn't recall why. What is just pride? Or the media? "Here is our favorite temporary manager," Axl smirked and pulled you a sideways hug until the rest of the band also turned up. Steven looked much better, luckily. Duff, Slash, and Izzy greeted you with a big smile as they walked on the stage and were ready to tune. In the morning you had to ask at least 10 times to start playing music for the other band whereas you didn't need to say a word.

"So have you decided what songs will you play?" You asked putting down your papers and sitting down on the ground.

"Of course. Here are the lyrics if you want." Axl handed you a pile of papers.

"They are in that order, I think."

"Thank you so much. Then you can start if you want." You winked. The guys started with 'Welcome to the Jungle' which wasn't your favorite from them but you must add it was a pretty rad song. When it was time for 'Paradise City' you couldn't help but stand up, danced, and sang along with Axl. At the end of the song, you heard a light chuckle and someone clearing one's throat. You looked in the direction and saw Doc and John standing by the stage.

"Wow, (Y/N), I haven't seen you like this," John said. You folded your arms and tried to calm down. When he was approaching you along with Doc, your jaws tightened. "Hello, guys." He waved at the boys on the stage.

"Hey, man." Steve greeted your ex with a bit much happiness in his voice. Duff immediately elbowed him in the stomach to shut him up.

"Popcorn, he is the one who beat (Y/N). Don't be kind to him." He whispered in his ear.

"Then, not hello, you bastard." He mumbled while trying to breathe again. John lowered his head but you could see that he was smirking. This man creeped the hell out of you.

"Hey, (Y/N)." Your answer was a nod but didn't say a word.

"I think we are leaving. We don't want to disturb anything." Axl spoke up but John turned to him.

"Don't need to. Just wanted to say a few words to (Y/N)." He shoved his hands in his pockets while waiting for your reaction.

"Doc, can you please help the guys if they need anything?"

"Of course. And scream if you need anything." He patted your back and watched your steps until you were out of sight.

"So what is it?" You asked staying as far as possible.

"I just wanted to thank you. Again. I don't how you are doing this but it can't be easy for you."

"Well, I'm doing all these struggles for Zoe. Not for you and not even for me. My daughter's happiness is the most important to me. If it means to see you for a few times then let it be. Now go and visit her before I will drop you out with one of the guards." You tried to joke.

∆

"Joan Jett or Lita Ford?" Duff asked while taking a sip from his vodka. Both bands along with Heather, Vanity and you were sitting in a room backstage. Only a couple of minutes remained until the start of the concert. You were sitting in Mick's lap, his hands resting on your thighs.

"Lita," Nikki said earning a glare from Vanity. You chuckled cause you knew that once they dated in the early 80s. Your smile faded when Doc ranted in the room.

"Guns N Roses! It's time to go. Including you, little miss. No time for resting and laugh." Doc snapped with his usual attitude. You sighed as Mick pecked your lips and slapped on your thighs playfully.

"Don't hook up with some groupie while I'm gone!" You smirked and followed the other band before Doc closed the door.

"So, (Y/N)... " Slash walked back to you. "Joan Jett or Lita Ford?"

"I'm curious, too," Axl yelled.

"Come on, (Y/N)! Be honest." Duff added. It's easy to say.

"Don't tell us that you haven't even been with a girl." Slash laughed seeing your facial expression.

"Leave her alone!" Izzy spoke up. Sometimes you were thinking that how he and Mick looked and behaved alike.

"Maybe if you behave well, I will tell ya after the concert." You grinned and pushed the guitarist on the stage.

It was the band's first big tour and though most of the fans came to see Mötley you could see many transparent with the name of the band, the logo, and even the name of the members, mostly Axl's.

"Hello, kid," Doc said placing his hand on your shoulder. "Sorry to drag you out here. I just wanted to avoid them to piss you off. I know that you are quite moody nowadays."

"How kind is everyone nowadays." You hummed.

"I meant it. And I saw how much you got along with these guys." He gestured towards the stage just at the moment Axl looked at the both of you. He winked and kept singing the song. "I was wondering..."

"No. Thank you, Doc but no. Don't matter how much can they chase me to hell with their behavior, I won't ever leave them. They are my boys." You looked up at Doc.

"Alright. I won't push anything." He winked.

∆

"It was pretty rad, man!" Tommy yelled as he high-fived with another band who was just running down from the stage.

"Thanks, man," Steven said with a big smile.

"Thanks for preparing the crowd for the real concert." Vince laughed.

"Vinnie!" You snapped. "That wasn't nice."

"Don't bother, (Y/N). It doesn't worth it." Axl murmured sending the other singer death glares. You just shook your head how they can't tolerate each other. Mick arrived, too along with Nikki and Zoe sitting on the bassist's shoulders. "Hello, little one."

"Steven!" Zoe giggled as Nikki put her down on the ground.

"Betrayal. We haven't seen each other for 3 hours and the first person she wants is you." You chuckled folding your arms.

"It's not his fault that he looks this adorable," Duff added as he squeezed Steven's cheeks, making him blush. You held your hand over your mouth not to laugh, but seeing the other guys' looks it was pretty hard.

"Alright, guys. Let's go." Vince broke the awkward silence and ran on the stage.

"Break a leg! "You screamed before they were on the stage.

They guys played one or two songs before John appeared. He stood next to you but kept the distance.

"What are you doing here?"

"I don't really like those guys now but that doesn't mean I hate their songs, too." He chuckled.

"Sorry. I'm not at my very best nowadays." You murmured kicking in a stone.

"No worry. And I kinda get it. Being a manager for one band can be exhausted. Not to mention two bands. You are doing great." He stated while looking at you with a shy smile.

"Thank you." You answered.

"By the way, Zoe is pretty obsessed with the other band. Especially with that blondie guy with a cheerful smile."

"You mean Steven. And yes. She is quite a lucky fan." You snickered. "She always gets the attention she wants."

"I could imagine. She did the same at your office back in the days."

"Yeah." You smiled thinking back when Zoe came and all of your colleagues came and played with her. "But she feels home here, in this environment. She has quite a taste in music, too. She is a true rocker."

"I hoped so. Anyway, I wanted to ask something. Would you mind if I take Zoe with me for the night? I had my room in the same hotel as you. So she won't be far."

"Alright."

∆

"Be right back. I will just go and have a look on Zoe." You told Mick as you stood up from the couch in the hall of the hotel.

"Alright. Kiss her instead of me." He added.

"Sure." You headed towards the lift and press the button as you stepped in. There was no one in the hallway due to the time. It was almost 8 pm. When you arrived at the room you lightly knocked on the door. A few minutes later, John opened the door.

"Hey, (Y/N). What's up?"

"Sorry for disturbing. I just wanted to say goodnight to Zoe. Can I come in?" You asked.

"Of course." He invited you into the room and closed the door.

"Where is she?" You inquired when you looked around and couldn't find her.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N). But you didn't make things easier." He said just before he hit you in the face so hard you collapsed on the ground and lost consciousness.

∆

Next Part

Tags: @leatherandheels @karrotkate and @littlemisscare-all 💛

I hope it's okay 💛

#motley crue #glam rock #mick mars #nikki sixx #rocknroll #tommy lee #vince neil #80srock #80s music #mick mars x reader #mick mars imagine #mick mars x oc #motley crue imagin #motley crue x reader #motley crue imagine

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yourdeepestfathoms · 4 years

Text

Disarming Voice

[Tour!verse]

One of, like, three gifts for @the10amongstthese3s because I love them so much and they mean a lot to me and I just 💚💘💙💖💚💖💚💘💙💘💚 I was supposed to wait for their birthday in June but they were sad earlier today and so I gathered the remains of the Adderall in my system and wrote this bad boy

I love you, Duckie!!!!!

also: i couldnt think of a title so i frantically searched up Pokemon moves and now this will be the second fanfic with a title that is a move from Pokemon (the first is Quiver Dance)

Word count: 3175

TW: Blood

———————

Haus of Holbein concluded with kaleidoscope of strobe lights and cacophony of giggles from the eager audience. They watched as the queens pranced over the risers and staircase for the next bit, unbeknownst to a small pop in the back that was deaf to even the Tudor ladies themselves. They just went on with their performance like they always did.

“It’s time for you to choose your bride, your highness!” Aragon declared in her high pitched, Welsh-tinged voice, and that was enough to pop a metaphorical balloon that cut Howard off from saying her next line.

Okay, well, it wasn’t really the metaphorical balloon popping that halted the show, but the sharp cry of pain that came from the upper right.

Joan was hunched over her keyboard, rocking back and forth slight and clutching at one side of her head. The sound of her soft whimpers and keens resonated in the earpieces each of the queen’s wore.

“Joan, what are you doing?” Anne hissed softly. She can hear the audience starting to murmur in confusion behind her.

“Stop the show,” Joan croaked weakly.

“What? We can’t-”

“Please!” Joan cried, her voice cracking. Her head snapped up and the spotlights caught on some kind of fluid running down the side of her face. Anne makes a sickened look and backed away, thinking that it may be blood. Aragon gave her an exasperated expression—how could a woman be afraid of the sight of blood? Or did Anne just pass out every time she had her period?

The golden queen’s internal nitpicking came to an abrupt halt when the director suddenly came on the speakers and announced a momentary intermission. A few people in the audience grumble in annoyance, while others groan, and the majority whispered even louder. A couple of stagehands are leering at Joan from the wings.

“What is going on?” The director suddenly stormed onstage, looking frazzled and aloof at the interruption. He was probably already imagining all the negative reviews and the money they’ll lose from people not wanting to come anymore, which definitely would not happen with how popular the show was. “Why did we stop? Joan, what did you do?”

“My-my ear—” Joan choked out. She’s rocking herself more prominently, as if she thought the movement would comfort her, but it clearly wasn’t working the magic she thought it would.

“You made us stop the show for an EARACHE?” The director barked.

“Hey, get off her ass.” Aragon growled, puffing out her chest to the obnoxious man and gathering herself up to her full size—which was easier taller than the director. And if she didn’t beat him in height, then her muscles and abs surely did, and she made sure to make that known to him.

“N-no, it’s—” Joan winced. “I-it’s—” She was stuttering too much for anyone to understand what she was saying, although nobody was really surprised. It was a habit of hers.

“Woah,” Maggie suddenly piped up. “What’s that on your face?”

Someone called for the main lights to be turned on, and the white-yellow fluid coating one side of Joan’s head is revealed. It was mixing with trails of red—blood. Anne stepped back dizzily and Aragon shot her a ‘get over it’ look over her shoulder before returning her full attention to the injured music director.

She could see that the fluids seemed to be coming from her ear and were dripping all the way down her jawline and onto her chest and shoulders. The droplets disappear against the dark material of her band uniform.

“Ew,” Jane wrinkled her nose and Joan looked dismayed at her reaction, then embarrassment. Pink did not go well with whatever color that liquid was supposed to be.

“What happened?” Cleves asked, incredibly curious. She was looking at the residue as if it were liquid gemstones.

“I-I had an—ear infection.” Joan explained, and each of her words are punctuated with a wince or whimper. “I took—pain killers, but—” She made a miserable, pained sound and clenched tighter.

“Your eardrum might have burst.” Cathy said bluntly.

Joan went very pale, and the fluids suddenly look a lot darker. Or maybe that was just because of the increased sputtering of blood that’s coming out.

Slowly, so slowly, she pulled her hand back, and they all saw the drooling maw that was her left ear. The interior was completely coated in a thick amalgam of water, blood, and something that looked like pus, and the hole seemed to be clogged by the same concoction, although that looked a lot more /red/. It was weeping the foul-smelling liquid; Anne gagged loudly, but Aragon didn’t know if it was because of the sight, the smell, or both.

“Yikes,” Maggie winced. “That looks painful.” At her side, Howard tentatively touched her ear, as if she thought that her eardrum may randomly burst and put her through the same pain the music director was very obviously feeling.

“What do we do?” Aragon asked, waving her head around to everyone.

“Well, if I remember correctly,” Cathy said in her infamous know-it-all voice, “burst eardrums usually heal on their own.”

There was a collective sigh of relief—and then Cathy started talking again.

“However, sometimes surgery is needed. I’ve heard of cauterizing being used as a form of treatment, too.”

Miraculously, Joan’s face managed to get even whiter. If Cathy noticed, she doesn’t relent with her fact-stating.

“And hearing loss is sometimes possible. Which, when working in show biz, doesn’t seem to be a very good th-”

“Thank you, Cathy!” Aragon said loudly, batting her goddaughter away. She set a hand on Joan’s shoulder and her heart broke a little when she felt the girl trembling. Ice blue eyes stare up at her in fear.

“I-I don’t want t-to get my ear cauterized.” Joan stammered. “O-or go deaf!”

“You won’t, honey,” Aragon assured her. I hope. “I’ll take you to the doctor’s.”

“What?” The director squawked. “You can’t leave!” He wheeled around to Joan, bug-eyed and desperate. “You can still perform, can’t you?”

“My EAR is LEAKING!” Joan cried, holding out her pus-soaked hand to the man, who reared away in disgust. Anne gagged again from somewhere further away and Howard begrudgingly leaves the commotion to go comfort her soon-to-be-ill cousin.

Aragon raised her eyebrows with a pleased smile. She didn’t often hear Joan snap at people, but she was always very impressed when she was around for it. It just proved there were thorns under that shell she’s always hiding in.

“Can you walk?” Aragon said softly, then wanted to slap her. She was on the side with the injured ear—Joan probably could barely hear from that side.

“Yeah.” Joan still said, making out the queen’s words. She wobbled to her feet, and although it was her ear that was the part that hurt, her legs were still hindered by the waves of pain and discomfort washing over her.

“Ow,” She whispered, wincing.

“Come on, darling.” Aragon said to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I won’t let you fall.”

“What about the show?” The director warbled woefully.

“The swings are here, aren’t they?” Aragon said dismissively. “Get one of them to do it!”

There’s a reply, but Aragon was already leading Joan off of the stage, through the wings, and out the back door to the staff parking lot.

“What did it feel like?” Aragon asked as she was driving to the hospital. She glanced at the shuddering form of Joan in the passenger seat. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Um,” Joan looked a little uncomfortable. “Sorta like a water balloon popping? I kinda heard, like, umm—this pop, I guess? And then splitting pain and, ahh—there was stuff—coming out of my ear.”

At least, Aragon thinks that’s what she said. She liked to think she was good at discerning Joan Stutters, but the girl was just stammering so badly that even she was having a hard time understanding what exactly she was saying. She reached one hand off the steering wheel and touched Joan’s shoulder, hoping it may help comfort her.

“It’ll be okay, darling.” She told her.

“P-please focus on the road,” Joan said, glancing anxiously at the hand on her shoulder.

“Right.” Aragon pulled her hand away. She should have known—Joan hated when she didn’t drive with both hands on the wheel.

How was it possible to hold so much anxiety in such a scrawny little body?

They soon arrived at the hospital in a whirl of rhinestones and sparkles, seeing as they were both still in their show costumes. The people in the waiting room were dazzled at the shimmering gold outfit Aragon was stuck in, and one person even recognized her and got up to possibly ask for a picture, but then immediately sat back down when they noticed her determined, ‘do not fuck with me’ expression. If her leotard was breaking some kind of hospital dress code, nobody decided to say something.

Aragon explained to the woman at the reception desk about what they were there for, gesturing vaguely to the coagulated mess on the side of Joan’s head in the process a few times. After getting checked in, they took a seat in the waiting room, much to Aragon’s displeasure. Sure, Joan’s injury was no broken bone or heart attack, but the girl was clearly in a severe amount of pain. If the way she wouldn’t stop shaking didn’t give that away.

“Snowflake?” Aragon gently touched her hand. “Are you alright, baby?”

Joan merely replied with a soft “mmm” and kept her eyes shut. Aragon frowned. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a boy with his parents staring at the mess on Joan’s head and shot him a look that nearly made him keel over dead.

“You’re going to be okay.” Aragon told her girl, keeping her voice warm and soothing. “I promise.”

Joan just nodded this time.

It took almost twenty minutes and an extra squirting of ear water and pus, but Joan was eventually called for examination. Aragon followed her, sliding past the several gazes she got as she went along.

As Cathy predicted, there wasn’t much the doctors could do for something inside of Joan’s head, and they were sure she didn’t want a sudden surgery to repair some pieces of frayed tissue. However, they did clean up her head and ear (which was a painful process when a q-tip was used), and prescribed her some stronger antibiotics since it was clear she was in some discomfort.

On the drive to her apartment, Joan looked terribly guilty.

“What’s wrong, snowball?” Aragon asked, glancing at the sulking girl.

Joan mumbled something. Aragon leaked over slightly.

“A little louder, baby. I can’t hear you.”

“I made you miss the show for nothing.” Joan said. “And then you paid for a pointless doctor visit.” She hunched over in the passenger seat and put her head in her hands. “You wasted so much for me.”

It took all of Aragon’s willpower to not veer the car off the road and start laying into Joan about how she’d give up everything for her, but she kept her cool and continued driving so she wouldn’t freak the girl out even more. Her added car anxiety wouldn’t make anything better.

“Honey, I chose to take you to the doctor’s.” Aragon said. “It was my idea. You didn’t force me. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Joan pulled her head back and nodded slowly. Aragon wished she would smile, or at least stop frowning guiltily like she was. The girl was always too hard on herself, always blaming herself for things she didn’t cause and always losing her mind over the most minor inconveniences. She thought she was to prove herself or live up to the queen’s greatness, Aragon realized awhile ago.

They parked in Joan’s apartment complex and Joan didn’t even try to convince Aragon that she didn’t have to stay like she usually did. She just trudged up the two flights of stairs to her flat- Argaon always wondered how she got all her furniture up there, as she was sure the girl was too shy to ask a moving company for help. The image of her darling snow fox trying to haul an entire wardrobe up the steps was quite funny, albeit a bit pitiful.

Stepping into Joan’s apartment, however, was even more pitiful.

Aragon never got over how barren Joan’s home was. She stumbled through a dark corridor, kicking off her shoes as she does so. She saw Joan turn on a lamp instead of the main lights (they hurt her eyes, she had said before), and the glow it gave off was dim, as though the bulb was about to go out. It was enough to illuminate the bare and cold living room, dining room, and kitchen, which were all empty of decorations. Joan was terrible with money, fearing that buying a simple potted plant would leave her bankrupt. She did have a small cactus in her kitchen, though—its name was Prickle.

Joan grabbed a light blue cup from the sink, the only dish in the basin, and filled it up with some water before swallowing one of the painkillers, despite already having taken one while at the hospital.

“Joan, baby?” Aragon called out gently. “Does it hurt that much?”

She worried about the pain being that severe and the chance that Joan was just taking more pills because she liked how they made her numb. She once said she liked not feeling—it made her forget about her worthlessness and stress.

Joan sorta just shrugged in response, staring ruefully down into the cup. Aragon came over to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“How about we watch a movie?” She suggested. “Or do you want to rest?”

“It’s only lunchtime.” Joan pointed out. “I can’t rest already.”

“Haven’t you ever heard of catnaps?” Aragon poked her in the stomach, which made her giggle and squirm away. It was music to her ears. “Let’s make lunch, then. And THEN watch a movie.”

She detangled herself from Joan and walked over to the fridge. Her eyes widened when she saw what was inside.

“You went grocery shopping!” She spun around to Joan, clasping her hands in her own. “I’m so proud of you!”

She had been so worried to see the fridge empty like so many times before, but this time there was /food/! Sure, it wasn’t much, but it was something! Joan had bought fruit and milk and cheese and eggs and that weird LaCroix drinks she insists are really good but Aragon just thinks they taste like static and a single cherry skittle that’s been dissolved in water for three hours. There was food in the pantry, too—bread and crackers, biscuits and cereal, canned soup and packets of macaroni. Joan had even bought herself ice cream!

Joan blushed shyly, looking away.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” She murmured.

“It is to me!” Aragon whisked her up in her arms, causing Joan to squeak and cling to the ruffs on her shoulders.

“That’s itchy,” Joan said after she was set down, wrinkling her nose at Aragon’s costume.

“Tell me about it,” Aragon laughed. “Do you think any of your clothes will fit me? I’d watch the movie naked like I usually do, but I feel like that wouldn’t be proper guest etiquette.”

“Oh, I actually have—”

Aragon burst into laughter at the double take Joan does.

“Wait. What?!” Joan blinked at her, probably picturing that image in her head and then immediately being horrified when it actually materializes in her brain. “Don’t you— Doesn’t Anna share a room with you?”

“Then I guess I’m the award-winning film she’s watching.” Aragon smirked.

“Ahhh!!” Joan slapped Aragon's arms frantically. “Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!”

“What? You don’t like hearing about my-“

“LA LA LA LA LA LA LA!!!” Joan covered her ears, although softly with her injured one. “I CAN’T HEAR YOU!!! MARY HAD A LITTLE LAMB, LITTLE LAMB, LITTLE LAMB!!!”

Aragon laughed until her chest hurt. She wiped one of her eyes and set a hand on Joan’s head.

“Okay, snowfall, I’m done.”

Joan carefully removed her hands, peering up at Aragon suspiciously.

“You’re gross.” She poked her.

“Not gross. H-”

Joan slapped her hands back over her ears.

Which was a big mistake.

“You dummy.” Aragon said when Joan keened sharply in pain. “Shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s your fault!” Joan said miserably. She carefully rubbed the space next to her injured ear, but stopped when Aragon started to do it for her, leaning blissfully into her touch. “You’re the reason Maggie likes to tease me about having mommy issues.”

Aragon snorted. “I’m not surprised.” She said. “Now. What were you saying before?”

A blush dusts Joan’s cheeks. “Oh. Right.” She fidgets with a rhinestone on her costume. “I, umm— Well, seeing as you come over a lot— I— I got you some spare clothes.”

Aragon perked up, smiling. “Aww. That’s so sweet of you to do, Joan!”

Joan blushed harder and then scurried off to go change while Aragon started to make their lunch. She changed soon after, and then they sat down on the couch with their grilled cheeses.

“How’s your ear feeling?” Aragon asked as Joan was flipping through Netflix (technically, it was Aragon’s account. Of course Joan wouldn’t by her own—financial anxiety and all. And of course Aragon had to share with the girl!)

“Better,” Joan said, then touched it tentatively. “But it’s kinda, like...ringing.” She curled into Aragon’s side. “I don’t like it.”

“I’m sorry, baby girl,” Aragon wrapped her arms around Joan and she marveled at how perfectly she fit, as if that spot had been shaped by the universe just for the girl. She didn’t think even Mary had fit that well.

It was a sign, she realized: This is where this girl should stay. In your arms. Forever.

Aragon smiled. She liked the sound of that, even if she knew it would definitely be questioned by other people. They wouldn’t be able to wrap their heads around her loving some anxious mess of a music director more than her birth daughter she had fought tooth and nail to be with all those centuries ago. But it was hard to feel a sliver of love towards Mary after hearing about the horrors she’s done—she was just ashamed. Ashamed to be her mother, so she disconnected herself from the bloody ties of her child and went searching for someone who needed her more.

And that’s how she found Joan. Her perfect, weird little moon. Every inch nervous and shy, with so much room to be loved, and everything Mary would never ever be.

Sorry, Mary, Aragon thought with a chuckle, imagining her daughter throwing a fit in her place in hell.

She snuggled Joan closer and set her chin on her head. She felt Joan lean in closer and she smiled lovingly.

“So, what are we watching?”

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max-is-tired · 4 years

Text

In which Logan says fuck (Kid Sides AU part 6)

Characters: Character Thomas, Joan, Virgil Sanders, Remus Sanders, Logan Sanders, the others are mentioned

Words: 1.065

Warnings: swearing, sympathetic Remus, mentions of heart attack in reference to getting spooked, some anxiety

Notes: okay first of all, sorry it took me so long to finish this y’all. Second of all, I’ve written this with “Don’t Stop Me Now” on loop in the background and that’s all I’m gonna say about this ksdjcnsdjkcn

Remember to follow @tiny-feral-bois if you want to ask further questions about the AU or just watch me and Logan ( @romansleftshoulderpad) lose our collective shit about the chaotic mess that is this fic sajkcnsjkdnc

ch.1 ch.2 ch.3 ch.4 ch.5 ch.6 (you’re here!!)

Commission me!! Buy me a coffee!! Join my Discord server!!

Joan buried their face in their hands, collapsing on one of the free seats at the table with a long, drawn-out groan.

“Fudge,” they muttered, much eloquently, peeking out of their fingers enough to peek at the cluster of children -and a snake- sitting all around the living room.

“So what you’re saying-” Joan said slowly, taking in a deep breath- “is that you saw Virgil slip out of the back door almost two hours ago, and didn’t think it might be good to maybe tell literally anyone about it?”

Remus shrugged, reaching into the pocket of his costume -that thing had pockets???- to bring out a small, neon orange tube.

“He gave me slime!!” he chirped proudly, popping the tube open to show everyone else the wiggling, slimy green substance present inside.

In response, Joan went back to holding their head in their hands, muttering under their breath.

“Well,” Logan sighed, closing his book, “looks like we are, as the young say, fucked.”

“Language!” Joan immediately shot up, looking at the kid with wide, scandalized eyes.

“I’m almost 30 I do what I want!” the seven years old immediately shot back, jumping up on the couch in all of his tiny, righteous fury.

Joan groaned, hitting their forehead on the table. They just hoped Virgil hadn’t gone too far.

+++

Virgil hadn’t exactly had a plan when he’d slipped out of the house and into the back of Thomas’ house. He had been angry, irritated, and all he wanted was to get some fresh air before he ended up doing something he might regret later, like snap at Patton or something.

Then though, after having moved just to the side so he could keep his eyes on the front door -he may be a very angry preteen right now, but he was still Anxiety- he’d seen Thomas step out of the door, using his keys to click the car open before turning back around to say something to someone in the house -Joan, probably.

It had been a split-second decision. One moment, he’d been crouching just behind the corner, and the next Virgil was bolting towards the now unlocked car, trying to be as silent as he could. Quickly, he slipped inside, slotting his scrawny, gangly body between the back and front seats, and waited.

Virgil kept his mouth firmly shut as Thomas entered the car and sat on the driver’s seat, forcing his breath to remain as steady as possible as they drove out of the driveway into the street.

Well, this was prospecting to be a long car drive for him

+++

Thomas kept biting his bottom lip as he drove, occasionally tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

Gosh, was he nervous. Lily had agreed immediately to meet up, sounding all too pleased to hear from him. He hadn’t explained the situation yet, one, because it didn’t seem like something that should be told by phone, and two, he wouldn’t even know where to start in the first place.

He still didn’t to be honest, and if Lily were to end up kicking him out of her hotel room while calling him crazy, well, there wasn’t much he could do to dispute such a claim. In all honesty, Thomas was still somewhat wondering if he really hadn’t gone mad and just started seeing things. Maybe he’d even imagined Joan’s call and their coming over, who knew.

Thomas let out a tired sigh, stopping in front of a red light and resting his forehead on the top of the steering wheel. He really was not looking forward to the incoming conversation, it didn’t matter how happy and excited he felt about seeing his friend again after so long.

“Oi, stop daydreaming, it just turned green,” an all-too-familiar voice rumbled from behind Thomas.

The man let out a startled shriek, jumping on his seat before whirling his head around. Virgil gave him his usual two-fingered salute from the backseat, his car belt put on in exactly the right way, of course.

“What the heck are you doing here, Virge?” Thomas asked, one hand raising to rest on his chest, just above his heart -Virgil’s sudden decision to speak had almost given him a heart attack, what the fuck.

Virgil arched a single eyebrow, looking immensely amused. Almost as if on cue, people started honking furiously from behind him, bringing Thomas’ attention to the now very green stoplight. Quickly, he pushed on the accelerator, driving away from the stoplight and near a random street before guiding the car to the side and turning the engine off.

Then, the man turned back around towards his Side.

“So?” he asked, obviously waiting for an explanation.

Virgil gave a nonchalant shrug, looking down at his hand. “Thought you might need some company. Also, you know I don’t like being left behind. I’m anxiety, dude, I gotta make sure you don’t crash or something.”

Thomas sighed, giving Virgil an unamused look.

“You know I’m a careful driver, Virge,” he commented, “and you could have always let me know you were in the car with me, geez.”

Virgil looked back up at him, looking downright skeptical. “Would you have let me tag along if I did?”

“... okay, fair point,” Thomas finally conceded, albeit reluctantly. “Still, was the attempt at giving me a heart attack necessary?”

“Yup,” Virgil nodded, a shit-eating grin tugging at his lips.

Thomas didn’t say anything, just turned around and dropped his head back onto the steering wheel with a muffled thud.

“You’re a little minx, kid,” he muttered, tiredly pushing himself up to stare out of the windshield.

“You can call me a little shit, you know that right? I may look like a 12-years-old right now, but technically I’m still a fucking adult.”

“Language,” Thomas chided, looking already done with everything as he turned the car back on.

“Come on, let’s just get to Lily’s. Hopefully, she’ll be able to help us.”

“Oh, I really hope so,” Virgi groaned from the backseat, “if I have to go through puberty one more fucking time I swear I will yeet myself out of the nearest window.”

“And risk making Patton cry?”

“... I hate that you know my weakness, you know that right?”

Thomas snorted, guiding the car back into the street. Maybe having Virgil in the car with him would not be such a bad thing, after all.

#sanders sides #remus sanders #logan sanders #joan #joan stokes #virgil sanders #character thomas #sympathetic remus #kid sides au #ts fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #maxiswriting

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cynicalrainbows · 4 years

Text

Unexpected Discovery

‘I just.....this changes things, you know-?’

Aragon paused on the threshold of the living room, cup of tea in hand.

She didn’t really want to interrupt Kitty and Cathy’s girl talk and she definitely didn’t want to have the smell of nail polish ruining the taste of her special new mango tea. She took a step back into the hall- Jane would probably wouldn’t mind if she joined her in her room, as long as she promised not to talk over the good bits in the audio books she was listening to.

‘I understand totally-’

‘I’m not even sure I really know her any more- Sorry, I know she’s your cousin but-’

‘No, it’s ok- I mean, even I’m looking at her differently now-’

She sighed internally. There was no way she could leave and let whatever drama was about to unfold (or had it already unfolded, who knew?) just go ahead without some intervention.

She had surprised everyone, herself included, by being cautiously pleased by her goddaughter embarking upon a relationship with her ex-husbands New Woman (a situation that still made her feel a little unnerved at times- who would have ever guessed that such a thing would come to pass in their first lives? Certainly not Catalina Trastamara) but there was no way she was going to sit by and do nothing if Anne had done ANYTHING to hurt her Cathy-

‘What’s going on?’

Cathy and Kitty exchanged dubious glances, obviously debating on how much they should say, and Aragon’s heart started to beat a little faster.

‘Oh god. What is it? Is it drugs? I KNEW she had too much energy! Has she tried to make you do something weird? Has she cheated on you? Because I swear to god-’

‘Catalina! Calm down!’ Cathy put a hand (three of the nails freshly painted in Russian Navy) on her arm. ‘It’s nothing like that-’

‘What is it then?’

‘It’s nothing-’

‘It didn’t sound like nothing! You sounded really upset-’

‘Yeah, it definitely wasn’t nothing!’ Kitty sat up from where she’d been sprawled across the rug, bottle of Far East Fushia in one hand and brush (drip of polish hanging perilously off the end- Catalina internally winced for the fate of Jane’s prized white sheepskin). ‘I was there- I heard you.’ Just in time, she caught the drip and then put the bottle down. ‘Honestly, it was like the saddest sound in the world when you saw it- like a kitten being trodden on-’

‘Saw what?’ Catalina was sure she would have an aneurysm before either girl actually got to the point, and then she’d die, and Six would have to be renamed Five, and it would be all Anne’s fault. Well, Anne and her suddenly taciturn godchild.

Kitty turned huge, anguished eyes to the golden queen. ‘The bowl! The bowl in the sink! Full of water!’

‘......What?’

‘She’d been baking!’ Kitty added in tragic tones, as if that explained anything. Catalina wondered if the girl was doing it on purpose to annoy but squashed the idea pretty quickly. While Anne, Anna and even Cathy sometimes enjoyed winding her up for amusement, she couldn’t imagine Kitty doing it.

‘And?’

‘She washed up the bowl right away!’ Cathy said, in the same way that she might have related that Anne also had a secret predilection for tearing pages out of library books.

‘So?’

‘She didn’t save the left over cake batter for me!’ Cathy explained sadly. ‘I’d have understood if she just wanted it for herself but.....no! She just....washed it up. As if it didn’t even matter! It turns out she NEVER eats the raw cake batter! Not ever!’

‘And it’s like....do we even know her at all now?’ Kitty spread her hands. ‘It’s like finding out that she doesn’t stop at red lights or that she secretly hates the garden duck or something-’

‘Well firstly, that’s ridiculous-’ Catalina felt duty bound to defend Anne in her absence, perhaps out of guilt for jumping to conclusions about her. ‘You know Anne is an excellent driver. And she loves Garden Duck. We all love Garden Duck. Joan doesn’t even like birds and she loves Garden Duck.’ They two young queens nodded solemnly at this: they did, after all, all love Garden Duck. ‘On the matter at hand though....you eat the raw cake mix?’ Catalina wrinkled her nose. ‘That sounds unsanitary-’

Now both Kitty and Cathy were starring at her, horror struck. ‘Catalina! You’re ALWAYS meant to save the bowl for the raw cake mix left inside!’

Kitty turned to Cathy. ‘You didn’t say she was like that too!’

‘I didn’t know!’ Cathy was wide eyed. ‘Oh god...my girlfriend, now my godmother... I don’t know what to believe any more....’

‘....Ok. This is getting too weird.’ Catalina realised she’d had enough of this for one day and decided to leave them to it. She pressed a kiss to the top of both of the queens heads and took her rapidly cooling mango tea into the hallway and up the stairs to Jane’s bedroom.

Before she could knock, Anne’s door opened a crack.

‘Catalina- Pssst!’

‘Hm?’

‘How bad is it?’ Anne tilted her head. ‘Y’know, down there-’

‘Honestly, I have no idea.’ Catalina shook her head. ‘I’m sure they’ll get over it though....’

‘I hope so. I’m banking on the cake being ready and that being enough to distract them from their horror that I don’t want to eat raw egg and flour-’

Catalina wished her former lady in waiting luck and took herself away to the relative peace of Jane’s bedroom, where she and Anna were discussing their latest favourite book, happily unaware of any cake related drama.

Half an hour later, Cathy knocked and poked her head around the door, balancing a tray of cake for them all.

‘Sorry to interrupt but we thought you might want some-’

‘Oooh!’

‘Thank you Cathy!’

Aragon took a plate for herself.

‘I take it you’ve made up now?’

‘Mmm-hmmm’ Cathy nodded. ‘Kit and I decided....it’s ok. It’s not a dealbreaker-’

‘Good good-’

‘-and she’s agreed I can raise the children to my way of thinking. If we have any. So it’s all ok!’ Cathy smiled brightly and disappeared, now-empty tray in hand, leaving a slightly stunned Spanish queen behind her.

#six #six the musical #six the musical fanfiction #sixfic #six fanfiction #duckie has a cameo!#this idea was born when my girlfriend made banana bread #she doesnt eat the raw dough either #but she was so so so sweet to me when she was i was disappointed #living the domestic lesbian dream

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deadanddeactivated · 4 years

Text

Intrusive Concern

Fandom: Sanders Sides Characters: Remus Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Deceit, Orange/Wrath, others mentioned Pairings: Remus & Virgil Warnings: It’s from Remus’ POV so there’s lots of Remus-y thoughts Summary: Remus is a 'Dark Side'. He knows that, he's accepted that, but he never wanted it.

And now Virgil isn't one, and Remus can't let Deceit ruin that.

AO3

Remus is a 'Dark Side'. He knows that, he's accepted that, but he never wanted it.

"I'm not evil." He used to mutter to himself. Back when Thomas was young and the split was fresh.

"Of course not." Roman used to scoff. "You're half of me, and there's no way I can be evil." Back before Thomas had focused on Roman alone. Before Remus was shoved to the back of his mind to be ignored and forgotten and denied.

"Of course you are." Wrath had smirked. "But that's fine, we can still make Thomas see you." Back when he was the first Side Remus had seen in years. Back when Roman had long since stopped seeking him out.

Remus had been desperate then. Desperate to be seen and heard and acknowledged. So he'd taken Wrath's hand and he'd joined the 'Dark Sides' (as Roman would would one day dub them, as Wrath alone would embrace). And he hated it.

He doesn't mutter to himself anymore. Remus has accepted his place on the 'Dark Sides' and he gets it now. 'Being evil' wasn't his call to make - it was Thomas'. Thomas thinks he’s dark and so he is. There's no changing that, not when Thomas doesn't so much as react to thinking about jumping out of a moving car, let alone wonder where the thought came from.

The others like to claim they’re in the same boat as Remus. Or Deceit likes to go on about how this is 'totally his choice and what he wants' while Wrath waxes lyrical about how darkness was something thrust upon him.

It's all a bunch of butthole.

They aren't like him. They aren't half of a whole, easily split into 'good' and 'bad' no matter how inaccurate the terms. No, they aren't like that, they're whole. Whole and complete and not missing a part of himself and-

Remus feels a wave of energy as his thoughts slip into Thomas' and sighs. Usually he tries to be a little more creative with his influence, but it can't be helped now. Maybe later he'll have Thomas think about pushing Joan in front of a car, he does have a reputation to keep. What would Wrath do if he discovered how little Remus cared for the whole 'brooding, evil, edgelord' vibe? Especially after…

Ah, but Remus' thoughts are getting ahead of him. He isn't up to that part yet. No, he's thinking about Deceit and Wrath and how they don't have to be ‘Dark Sides’. They're whole aspects of Thomas, they cover a lot more than what they're named after. If they only played their cards right, Remus is sure they wouldn't be about of the unwanted. Thomas would see them in a whole new light (ha).

Fear was just proof of that.

Sorry, Anxiety. Well actually Virgil. Remus has such trouble keeping track of what that side is going by these days. Maybe he should just mix all the names, cover all his bases at once. What would that even be?

Virgity? Anear? Fexigil?

Ha. The first two sound almost like dirty words. He'll have to start using one of those whenever he sees Virgil.

Not that he ever sees Virgil. Even back when he was Fear, he avoided Remus like the plague.

That had hurt once. Back before he pressed Deceit for why and got a happily spoken answer, "Wrath totally hasn't talked you up as a super negative influence on Thomas. Virg definitely isn't scared of you. Why would he be? He's Fear."

Remus supposes he'll be pulled away from people forever. Roman was first, pulled away by Thomas and the wanted sides, and now Wrath had pulled him away from Virgil. How long until someone pulled him away from Deceit?

He visited once, after Virgil officially shed his identity as Fear but before he'd really become one of them. He just popped up one afternoon as the newly dubbed Anxiety (that's what he was going by then, right?) paced his room, now floating somewhere between the wanted and the unwanted sides. Remus really only wanted to give him his congratulations, to tell Virgil how happy jealous he was. It did not go well. It never does.

"Well, well, well it really worked. Maybe you should be creativity, hm?" He joked. Virgil had hissed as he turned to face Remus who just kept grinning just keep grinning. The vaguely lit side had already been tense but Remus could see it get worse, so scared even as he glared and held his ground. "You managed to recreate yourself after all. Oh, do you think we could really swap? We can clearly change." Remus continued. He never liked silence.

"Leave me alone Duke." Virgil managed through clenched teeth. He knew Remus name, he didn't have to use that title. Why did everyone always use that title? Why was he always lesser? "I'm not like you, I don't want any part of your schemes."

"No, you're not." Remus agreed. You're whole, he wanted to say, not like me. No matter how much I change, I'll always be a half. Always be the Dark to Roman's Light.

Instead, he perked up. "But hey, do you think the others think that?" It was meant to be an innocent question. A conversation starter.

Instead, the bags under Virgil's eyes got darker. The same way more and more of Fear's eyes would start to dart around when Remus was near.

"They don't know." Virgil claimed, voice layered and wrong. Something shifted in Thomas as Virgil's paranoia spiked. "They can't know!"

Remus didn't visit Virgil again.

He sticks to the back of Thomas' mind. Somehow, he finds himself hating it even more now. Which is ridiculous, because things aren't different without Virgil. Not for him, they'd never been friends.

And yet, Remus starts avoiding Wrath as the side simmers away. Which is, admittedly, pathetically easy once Wrath locks himself away in his room. Not that that will last. The second Thomas gives him the chance, he'll boil over and even Remus doesn't want to see that kind of destruction. Well actually it might be interesting… he'll have to think about it.

Watching as Deceit grows bolder without Virgil around to hold him back is harder because suddenly Thomas sees him, knows him, and god Remus wants that so bad it's not fair. But harder still is listening to Deceit becoming more and more desperate to convince himself Virgil isn't really gone.

"He hasn't abandoned us! He's just, building up to some grand scheme. We'll see!" He used to scream. Back when Virgil first left them. Those defenses had quickly morphed into claims of, "They've manipulated him. We just need to snap him out of it and he'll come back!" Sometimes Remus wonders if Deceit knows how much he lies to himself. Sometimes he wonders if Virgil knew.

Remus stays out of it. He listens and he gives Deceit empty words or he redirects the conversation but he stays in the back of Thomas' mind. Oh he thinks plenty about the ways he could step in. Dramatic displays that will lead to Virgil liking him and Thomas seeing him and Roman letting him join in again. But he doesn't act on any of it.

Then he overhears Deceit saying something and that changes.

"If Thomas wants to be more honest with himself," he starts, spitting the word 'honest' like it's poison, how would a snake even poison itself, or would someone else be poisoning it, would someone have to force feed a snake poison to do that, "then all his sides should be honest."

"Qh, plotting in the dark again. That's bad for your eyes. Or at least one of them. Would the human one or the snake one be worse off? We should test this. And also their reactions to acid." Remus decides, grinning when Deceit glares.

"Do keep distracting me Remus." He said. "It's not like I'm coming up with the perfect plan to get Virgil back or anything unimportant like that."

"Oh?" Remus prompts. "Does it involve rope?" He asks, conquering a rope in his hands.

“No!” Deceit snaps, too frustrated to remember to lie. He gets like that when he’s frustrated, or excited, or startled. It never lasts long. “Thomas is not obsessed with being honest, yes?”

“No?” Remus frowns like he’s not used to the way Deceit talks. He does, but Deceit likes to think he’s confusing people and Remus is more than happy to play along. Especially now.

“Exactly!” Deceit says. Idoly, barely away he’s doing it, Remus starts to tie and untie the rope. “Well, how do you think he’ll feel when he hears that Virgil’s been lying to him from the start? He’ll hate it, they all will. And Virgil will remember how horrible they are and finally come back.” For just a moment, Remus freezes in his motions. Deceit’s too excited to notice.

“So you’re going to pop up and reveal him?” Remus asks, humming to himself. “That doesn’t seem very grand of you. I thought you were better than that De.” He tsked.

“Well I hadn’t tried dropping rather obvious hints to get them to ask. That would work! They aren’t all oblivious idiots that ignore my every hint.” Deceit hisses.

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m not Thomas’ intelligence.” Remus claims, raising his hands in a surrender position only to realize he’s gotten them quite tangled in all his fidgeting. With a glare, Deceit waves his hand and the ropes become a snake which easily untangles itself. “Oh kinky.” Remus says. “Snakes would make for a very interesting BDSM night, you know.”

“Oh I most certainly do what to know. I just love talking to you sometimes.” Deceit huffs and then cringes as he thinks of it anyway. “Obviously I won’t be dramatic as ever when I don’t reveal Virgil because at this point my only option is not to just tell them. They’ll most definitely believe me, but that matters because Virgil will stay incredibly calm.” He says, getting back to the matter at snake-tied hand.

“As long as you’re dramatic.” Remus says. “Do let me know if you need any ideas.” He grins.

“Never.” Deceit grins back. With a wave, Remus leaves for his room.

With the door shut firmly and safely behind him, Remus let the frown take over his face. What would Thomas do when Deceit revealed Virgil? What would the other sides do? Even Virgil’s reaction is a worry. Remus can think of several outcomes, none of them good. Not for Thomas and not for them either.

“I can’t let that happen.” Remus decides. Virgil’s gotten out, he’s broken the pattern. There is no changing Remus, Wrath will never want to change, and Deceit’s too dependant on Wrath to try. But Virgil got out. Deceit can’t ruin that. Sure, Virgil left them behind but so did everyone else Remus can’t fault him for it.

So Remus decides to get creative, and he decides to do something.

Subtly isn’t exactly his birthday suit, but Remus thinks he did a pretty good job. It wasn’t particularly fun - acting full on ‘bad guy’, bending the truth like that - but it worked. Better than Remus expected actually. Thomas had actually, truly seen him. And sure he wasn’t about to listen to Remus, but that’s fine. He’s used to that. It’s enough that Thomas saw him, enough that the others don’t fear him anymore. Maybe he should send Logan a fruit basket. Oh a book basket! Of books he can eat! Candy books! Books on candy? Replacement teeth?

Ah, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that it worked! Virgil got the message. If Remus is honest, and he usually is, he hadn’t expected Virgil to just tell Thomas himself. His thoughts were more along the lines of an epic showdown between Virgil and Deceit where Virgil ensured De would keep his secret, and De realized that Virg was really gone forever, that things had changed.

But oh well, no epic show down. Disappointing because Remus always loved seeing Virgil go all out, but probably for the best. He’s not sure De could handle that. There were certainly some almost-sides that hadn’t.

At least Virgil’s methods worked. Sure Thomas knew, but it was on Virgil’s terms. That had to mean something. At the very least Virgil’s room hadn’t reappeared down the hall.

Did Remus mention he’d been seen? And that that was incredible? Because Remus had been seen and it was incredible.

All in all, a wonderful day, Remus hums to himself as he skips back towards the back of Thomas’ mind.

“I see your plan went perfectly.” Deceit spits as Remus passes, glaring. “Not that it came at the cost of mine.” He’s clearly annoyed, but he doesn’t seem to think it was intentional. Otherwise they’d be having an epic show down and Remus isn’t sure he could handle doing that to the only friend he has left.

“Oh it did indeed.” Remus grins. “Thomas finally aknowledged me. In no time at all he’ll realized I’m the better creative half.”

“Of course he will.” Deceit huffs but he doesn’t say anything else as Remus ducks into his room.

As the door shuts safely behind him, he turns and frowns. Someone’s sitting on his bed, someone who really shouldn’t be back here.

“Virgil?” The side in question looks up then quickly looks away again, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Hi.” He greets.

“Should you be back here? Aren’t you worried you’ll catch darkness?” Remus wonders.

“I’m not staying.” Virgil says.

“Well obviously.” Remus agrees, though he’s admittedly a little relieved. Of course it was a bit worrying to find Virgil in the back of Thomas’ mind right after he told Thomas the truth. “Why are you back at all?”

“Well…” Virgil hesitated a moment before sighing. “I want to um, say, thanks. For the warning.” He manages.

“What warning?” Remus grins, winking and tapping his nose rather obviously. Virgil stares for a moment before shaking his head with a smile and a chuckle. Like he’s fond. That’s new. And nice.

“There was uh, there was something else too.” Virgil says. “I’m… I’m sorry I thought you were some big villian like, well you know. You’re easily the best of u-... this.” He apologizes, stumbling a bit over his words. But Remus gets it. He also thinks it’s much more cutesy heart to heart than either of them can really handle.

“I wouldn’t say that.” He claims, intent to change the topic.

“Yeah? What would you say?”

“Giant radioactive octopus, except it’s tentacles are knives and also it’s holding knives!” Remus announces, earning another one of those head shakes. It’s definitely more amused than annoyed.

“Of course you would.” Virgil says, standing. “Well, that’s all I had to say. Bye Remus.” His name, Remus thinks, that’s his name.

“Unless I see you first. Because I’ll hide.” Remus grins, hoping Virgil can’t tell how much all this means to him as the newly wanted side lowers down.

Virgil’s never going back to them, Remus knows that even if Deceit doesn’t. But maybe, just maybe, they could join him.

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boleyn-falcon · 4 years

Text

‘wouldn’t it be nice?’

okay so ever since i made my Joan and Jane fic (here) I've decided i wanted to make a oneshot for all the ladies and their queens! this one is a lot more happy because my heart can’t handle a sad Maggie rn like i’ll die.

this is also me just being a wannabe soccer jock because i finished my first season this school year :> of yea and if i accidentally refer to it as soccer and not football i’m sorry i’m a dumbass american

synopsis - Anne thinks today would be the perfect day to kidnap her closest friend and sports-related hijinks ensue! with maybe a slight side of bruises and concussions..

Words - 2593

Trigger warnings - none that i know of but tell me if you think i should add one!

Maggie loved the early summer. It was the perfect time of the year, not too hot nor cold. She could leave her window open to let in natural sunlight during the day, she’s always hated artificial lights, they give her headaches. It was the best time to just hone her skills and relax, she could let all of her stress just melt away. The brunette started learning a new song she heard so she could play it to the ladies and queens. “Wouldn't it be nice”, by some old american group called ‘The Beach Boys’, it was a nice feel good song the guitarist just felt amazing hearing. The old song’s lyrics remind her how good her second chance at life really was, “And wouldn't it be nice to live together,In the kind of world where we belong?”, it was perfect.

Her hands gracefully floated over the strings, eyes locked on the chords displayed on her computer screen. It felt like the world had stopped moving for a moment, like everything was calm. Well that feeling didn’t last that long. Maggie’s hands suddenly gripped the neck of the instamet as a large crash came from down stairs, ‘oh no what is it this time’. The musician laid her guitar down on her bed right as a slew of very creative and colorful curses came from what she could only presume was Bessie. With a quick trot down the stairs she was soon to find a very peeved bassist, a started pianist, a confused drummer. She made haste to the living room where they were standing to also find one very apologetic tudor queen and one rambunctious gremlin on the floor, oh and a slightly broken window.

“Gosh Bess I’m so sorry about her, we just got back from pret and i let her buy a large chocolate frappe, i'll pay for the new window..”, the blue clad queen said with a sorry smile. Maria spoke up with a curious tone, “Wait why are you guys here anyway? Atleast give a reason Miss Kermit the Hulk over here came crashing through our window?”, the green eyed woman finally stood up from her place on the floor and shuffled shyly. “Well Cathy wanted to come over and get some piano lessons from Joan and I tagged along to hopefully get some time with my favorite ferret!”, Maggie gave an amused chuckle and stepped forward. “Well okay you sugared up raccoon, what did you wanna do?”, Anne made her way to the couch and plopped down, “Well before we do anything, you need to go change into some shorts and a tank top oh and put your hair up. Cathy then grabbed one of the two drawstring bags she had been holding and handed it to Anne, who was already in some black running shorts and a neon green muscle tank. “Well me and Joan are gonna go hit the keys, you two have fun with whatever trouble Anne will get you both in”, and with that the two shorter girls made their way across the room and began to talk quietly.

The band member made her way back up to her room and began to pick out an outfit. ‘ Huh, I wonder why Anne is having me wear sports gear..the only kind of sport she watches is hockey and that's because she thinks it's funny to see them beat the shit out of each other’. She opened her closet and picked out some white athletic shorts(with pockets because all pants need them in her opinion), and a pastel cyan dri fit shirt with a black double note on the front. Lastly, she ties her hair back in her normal high ponytail she wears for shows.

Finally they were ready and made their way out of the house and onto the London streets. Anne still had her green bag, without giving a single hint to what could be inside. They made their way down into the nearest tube station on the Piccadilly Line. Maggie could now slightly narrow down the places they could be heading,but just a little. They stayed on the hot tube for a good few minutes before the hyper woman pulled her off and gave her a little time to look at where they had gotten off, Hyde Park Corner. This had just gotten even more puzzling as they made their way up to the surface. They were so close to leaving the station, till they had to scan their oyster cards. Anne had gotten through the gate easily with a quick swipe of her card. Maggie walked forward and scanned her card, but as she was walking through she felt a pressure on her waist. The Confused woman looked down to find out.. The gate had closed on her and she was stuck in between the two sides of the machine. “...Well shit… that's a problem”, the two rudor women laughed and Anne waved down a worker to let her friend out of her plastic-mechanical prison.

They finally made it out of the station, at least they already had a funny story to tell the others. They ambled their way down the stone sidewalk, smiling and laughing like school kids. “So I tell Joey about the whole pasta-wall test and she actually does it! Wait it gets better, she grabs a handful of angel hair spaghetti and chucks it at the kitchen wall! In front of Maria and Bessie! Let’s just say she wasn't allowed to be near any kind of noodle for a while”, Anne bursts out in laughter even stronger than back at the station, wiping tears from her eyes. Suddenly the green queen stopped and grabbed her friend’s hand and pulled her over to the other side of the road. “Tadah! We are gonna hang out here and try something new!”,the enthusiastic woman points to the stone arch like structure above them. “Hyde Park? What could we possibly learn here?”, Anne gives no answer as she continues to drag the poor musician into the park and off to a flat clearing.

The Boleyn girl stops right in the middle of the small grassy area and finally pulls out what has been hiding in her bag, a basic football and a small bluetooth speaker. “I thought it would be fun if we learned how to play Football! It seems easy enough and it would be fun bonding for us!”, she put the speaker down next to her bag and put the ball at her feet. Maggie was beyond confused, neither woman had ever tried sports, she knows Cleves runs and does boxing with Kathrine but that's about it. The guitarist gave a nod to the woman in front of her, she was about three meters away. Anne pulls her foot back like a bow and slams the front of her foot into the ball and sends it flying towards the other burnette. The ball hits Maggie’s right shin, she stumbles back and trips over the object at her feet and falls on her backside. “Ow shit!”, both women say loudly, Anne holding her foot and Maggie on the ground clutching her shin.

“Okay so bad idea, maybe we should..I dunno, learn how to play the damn game before we start kicking shit?”, the tudor queen gave a shy nod as she walked over and helped the injured girl to her feet. Maggie pulls out her phone from the pocket of her shorts and goes to her trusty friend, Google. “Okay Mags we should start with how to kick the damned thing without breaking all of your toes”, the guitarist gave a small chuckle and searched what Anne had suggested. After about thirty seconds of looking she finds a short Youtube video titled, ‘How to properly kick a soccer ball’, huh made by an American i guess. She clicked the video and turned her phone so both inept reincarnates could watch. The woman in the video showed her foot parallel to the ball, lightly kicking it with the inner side of her foot, unlike Anne who ‘toed’ the ball from what the woman said. The demonstrator showed how to open your hips wide to pass forward and how to angle your foot to make sure the ball goes in the right direction. After the tutorial ended Maggie turned her phone off and returned it to her pocket. “Okay Anne go back to your spot with the demon-sphere so we can try this again”.

So it was take two and they widened their stances slightly like the player in the video did, “Okay Mags remember to stop it with the side like she said so i don't break your foot! God the other Ladies would kill me..”. Anne got ready and tilted her foot outwards slightly and pulled back, she hit the ball correctly, well sort of. She used the right part of her foot but hit the very bottom of the ball and it flew upwards and towards the poor ferret-like woman in front of her, hitting her square in the face. Maggie stepped back and made a low grunt noise and held her face. “Christ Annie what did you do wrong this time? You did exactly what she said and it was still fucked up!”,Anne gave a confused look with a tilt of her head, “I dunno ‘M, maybe it was wind?”. Both gave a frustrated sigh as they sat down on a nearby bench and started to think. Before they could conjure up a coherent thought, Maggie spotted 3 teenage looking girls with matching gold and red sports uniforms with low and behold, a football. The younger girl shot up from the bench and gave her queen a confident smirk, “Anne i think i have a good but also maybe terrible idea”, she sped up to the girls and stopped them in their tracks.

“Hey sorry to bother you girls but erm… you play Football right..?”, the three girls looked at each other confusingly, “Um”, the tall brunette girl starts, “Yea we are on our school’s team..why?”. Anne catches up to Maggie right as the conversation continues, “Well I’m Maggie and my friend Anne and I want to learn how to play but we are kinda…”, Maggie trails off for Anne to finish, “Bad at it, like really bad”. The tanner girl with gloves on stepped forward with an amused look, “Well okay then, we were just about to go for a short practice so we could totally help you out!”, she put her gloved hand out for Maggie to shake, “I’m Samina, I’m the team’s goalie and these are two out of three of my defenders, Piper”, she points to the girl from brefor who gave a small wave, “And brooke”, a shorter brunette looked up and gave a small nod. “So I see you're already kinda set up here so let's get to it!”, the goalie led her girls over and gave the older pair an encouraging smile, “Show us whatcha got ladies!”. All five of the girls got in a wide spread circle with Anne’s ball at her feet. “Okay so first things first, do you know how to kick it without hurting yourself or sending it to the moon?”, Anne looked over and answered for Maggie, “Kinda, we can do it without harming our precious feet buuut it went flying and ‘bout gave Mags a broken sniffer..”. The shortest girl gave a small nod and gazed over at the pair, “Well then you hit the bottom of the ball, next time hit the middle or top, but i say middle because you might trip if you hit the top”, she said in a monotone voice. Anne decides to give it a go and turns to face Maggie, giving her a look that says, ‘be prepared because this might end horribly’. Giving her queen a quick nod she gets ready to receive the weapon of death, aka the ball. Anne pulls back and hits the ball just like she was told and it zooms towards Maggie on the ground and the brown eyed woman manages to catch it with somewhat ease. “Nice job Bo!”, she says as she rushes to give her green clad friend a high-five who gladly returns. “Now”, Piper starts, “time to learn how to dribble with the ball!”. Both girls groan in response.

After about an hour and a half of learning the simple methods of the sport the girls had to leave so it just left Maggie and Anne to figure it all out from there. Maggie spots an opportunity to turn up the fun and jogs over to Anne’s speaker and connects her phone. An upbeat guitar melody begins to play and just a few seconds later words start to emit from the speaker, “Wouldn't it be nice if we were older? Then we wouldn't have to wait so long?”. The musician gives a bright smile as the cheerful song plays, she now could really understand how grateful she really was for this new life. She sauntered over to the smiling Boleyn girl and they began to pass the ball around and laugh. They practiced thier passess and dribbleing, even tripping a good few times which made their smiles even brighter as they became covered in dirt,grass, and small bruises.

“Annie! Heads up!”, the ball flew past the queen’s head and into a tree behind her, getting stuck up in some branches. “Shit sorry, i'll go up and get it dont worry!”, Anne gave a worried glance, “Are you sure Maggie? We could just throw stuff at it to knock it down..”, Maggie had already started scaling the tree. It was anything but graceful, she looked like a blind cat with a missing tail,left leg, and whiskers, she couldn't balance at all. After making her way up about 5 or so branches she finally got to their beloved horri-ball. She grabbed it with her left hand, leaving her right, non-dominant hand, to be the one holding onto the flimsy branch above her, it was a recipe for disaster. “Hey Anne, I got the bAL-”, where her last words before the branch gave way and she went tumbling to the ground. Luckily or not so luckily, her dearest queen was there to break her fall. “I told you so”, is all Anne could croak out from under Maggie before she pushed her off. After that fiasco they moved a tad bit farther from the trees so they didn’t have to go home in full body casts.

After a few more hours it was starting to get dark and they thought it best for them to head back to their respective homes. They parted ways and started the trek back to their humble abodes. “See you later Mag! I'll text you later!”, and with that Anne was gone, Maggie has always wondered how she just vanishes right when you take her eyes off her. After a very cautious tube station trip and ride, she was finally home. The guitarist, happy to be home and rest, opens the door, ready to have some quiet time. Her dreams are slightly crushed as she sees a small brown blur scurry across the hall with a very distressed Maria rushing after it. The drummer stops in her tracks to make eye contact with her bandmate, “Bessie,Cathy, and Joey went out for dinner, don't say a word about this Margret”, today just got even more exhausting.

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Okay well that was an absolute acid trip-

i hope yall enjoy some cute bonding shit becuase the last one was so edgy n shit, and before any of you ask, yes the three girls on my team who are all really amazing players and friends and i love them so so much-

the next one will probably be with Maria and Lina and them dealing with Maria’s.... new little predicament haha

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allthefilmsiveseenforfree · 4 years

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Harley Quinn: Birds of Prey

I know next to nothing about Harley Quinn. I didn’t really grow up with Batman: The Animated Series, and I certainly didn’t see Suicide Squad because I don’t hate myself but I DO hate method actors who use playing dark and disturbed characters as an excuse to treat the real people around them like shit! But I knew from the first trailer that I would probably be on board with this version of Joker’s ex-partner in crime because Margot Robbie is just a goddamn delight and because it’s about a diverse group of women just like...kicking ass, dude. Also a lot of the time they’re wearing leather and spandex. I’M ONLY HUMAN. Given Harley’s somewhat checkered past in terms of empowering characterization, I was certainly curious about which version we would ultimately get here. Would this be the lovesick domestic violence victim, little more than the Joker’s sidekick? Would this be the unhinged sociopath, just as hellbent on violence and chaos as her boyfriend? Would this be the silly, sassy femme fatale who does what she wants and just has a ton of fun doing it? Well...

A mix of all three, really, and in trying to have their cake and eat it too, DC has managed to create a version of Harley Quinn that’s nuanced, complicated, and the kind of character that could anchor her own prestige cable drama for 5 seasons if women were allowed to do that. The basic plot is simple: Harley Quinn (Margot Robbie) and the Joker have broken up, and without his protection, there are a BUNCH of people in Gotham City who really want her dead, but none more than Roman Sionis (Ewan McGregor). Meanwhile, Roman’s trying to get his hands on this really big diamond that’s been stolen by a scrappy lil pickpocket named Cassandra Cain (Ella Jay Basco, who holds her own against these other powerhouse actresses with aplomb). Basically everyone else in the movie is either trying to find Harley or find Cassandra and by the time they all come together in the last act of the movie, everyone’s just trying to prevent Roman from blowing everyone the fuck up.

Some thoughts:

First of all, I had a great fucking time. The colors, the chaotic energy, the pure FUN of the whole thing is intoxicating. Cathy Yan’s direction and Christina Hodson’s rollicking good time of a script combine to form something that’s just a bomb ass time at the movies.

I feel like it goes without saying, but Margot Robbie owns every second that she’s on screen. She’s equal parts merry and mayhem, and she does bad things sometimes. But you still root for her, you can’t help it. Robbie is magnetic - you cannot take your eyes off her, even if you want to, and she imbues Harley with so much pathos and growth in spite of her less than savory actions that she could kick both Don Draper and Walter White’s ass no problem.

Ewan McGregor’s American accent isn’t great, but honestly, he’s having a great fucking time too so I don’t mind it so much.

The costuming is FANTASTIC. I am shouting out the film’s costume designer, Erin Benach, SO HARD here because she did an incredible job. Every single character’s outfits are unique and perfectly perfect for their personality and arc. Roman is all velvet blazers with no shirt and leather gloves and Black Canary (Jurnee Smollett-Bell, who I have loved since Friday Night Lights and I love even MORE now because she did all her own singing in this and is just so good) wears the most incredible sultry-lounge-singer-with-a-Pam-Grier-throwback-vibe gold and black ensembles. Most of all, I love that Harley’s outfits are revealing - slutty even - without feeling gross or exploitative. They’re slutty in a way women like, which is so refreshing I could cry.

I really enjoyed the soundtrack and score as well. There’s some Heart, Joan Jett, and Kesha going on, but there’s also a fire Megan Thee Stallion and Normani track over the credits. And the score is effective but not invasive, which I always appreciate.

Speaking of the credits, there is not a post-credits scene exactly but there is a little easter egg of a joke that was worth staying for!

Everything about this movie reveals a thoughtfulness and engagement with the female characters that unfortunately just doesn’t happen that often in films created by and for men. You know how I know this film allowed women to be in the rooms where the decisions happen? Because Harley and her frenemies are sexy but not overtly sexualized; every single woman in this movie has her own arc and character growth; they’re strong without being forced into the Strong Female Character archetype; and the camera frames their faces rather than their tits.

I love Bruce the hyena so much because he is perfect and has never done anything wrong in his whole life.

For as gay as this movie is, I am pleased to report that it is also ACTUALLY GAY because there are lesbian characters in it! Renee Montoya (Rosie Perez, taking NO SHIT) and Ellen Yee (Ali Wong) are ex-girlfriends! Who are specifically named as lesbians! Imagine! The novelty!

There is a brief scene of sexual humiliation that is deeply uncomfortable to watch, but you know how I know it was directed by a woman? Because the scene is brief but impactful, it is meant to showcase how evil Roman is, and the way the scene is shot we are forced to focus on the woman’s face or her knees rather than her bra and underwear.

I confess, I had to laugh when Roman finally put on his big evil character mask because he looks like an evil luchador.

Mary Elizabeth Winstead is so hot as Huntress that I thought I was going to dehydrate myself into a coma while watching this movie. Her lack of people skills only made me love her more. Between this and Ramona Flowers, MEW is the gift that keeps on giving to ladygays of my generation.

I just feel like I can’t stress enough how much I loved all the moments that were included in this film because women were the ones creating it. Harley offers Black Canary a hair tie in the middle of a fight scene and I felt like my heart grew three sizes in that moment, which was so simple and funny and perfect.

For an R-rated comic book movie, it’s shockingly not very bloody. I was expecting cartoonish levels of Deadpool-style gore, but really the only R-rated thing the film showcases is naughty language. There’s certainly violence, but again, it doesn’t feel gross or exploitative.

Did I Cry? No, I was having too much fun!

Each of these women ultimately save themselves from their own circumstances - be it an abusive relationship, a shitty job, a mission of vengeance, or just being held in the clutches of a madman. I cannot recommend this movie enough for its sheer joy at its own existence and every thoughtful choice that was made behind and in front of the camera to tell a story about women that can compete with the big boys.

If you liked this review, please consider reblogging or subscribing to my Patreon! For as low as $1, you can access bonus content and movie reviews, or even request that I review any movie of your choice.

#120in2020 #harley quinn: birds of prey #birds of prey #hq: bop #birds of prey review #harley quinn #black canary #black mask #margot robbie #Ewan McGregor #jurnee smollett bell #mary elizabeth winstead #rosie perez #ella jay basco #dceu #movie reviews #film reviews

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