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lassieposting · 3 years

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Any alive! Skulduggery hcs that you haven't shared? I live by your version of him tbh

Hi anon! I think I covered skug's backstory up to when he signs up to fight and then skipped ahead to when he meets his wife, so you can have the Early War Years

- so when we left skug, he'd been on the pirate adventure and essentially moved in with ghastly's family at age 16, and that's where he stays for the next three years. Ghastly's father introduces him to taking pride in his appearance, Ghastly introduces him to Hopeless, and Ghastly's mother Saoirse introduces him to three things: motherly love, household chores, and the back of her hand for swearing in the house. He settles into the family, flirts with the prettiest local girls, develops an allergy to manual labour, and starts Experimenting™ with Ghastly, who's absolutely besotted with him.

- at 19, he has his surge, and it's bad. Ghastly has his a few months earlier, and it wasn't pleasant, but Ghastly was always going to be an elemental. He was sick and achy for a few days and howling in pain for just one or two. Skug expects much the same: he hasn't used necromancy in years, and he's had the best elemental tutors his parents could find.

- But he's inherited an insanely strong necromancy gene from his biological father, and an insanely strong elemental gene from his mother, and his surge ultimately comes down to two branches of magic trying to destroy each other to be the last gene standing. His temperature skyrockets as the elemental gene tries to burn the necromancy out of him. What looks like black blood seeps from his eyes and his nose and the corner of his mouth. His veins go black as the shadows retaliate. It goes on for days. Ghastly's mother is beside herself trying to get water into him so he doesn't die of thirst.

- If he hadn't also inherited the extremely rare genetic abnormality responsible for magical ambidexterity, his surge would've killed him. But he did, so it doesn't, and eventually he comes out of it and spends the next six months or so just recovering.

- at this point, the sanctuary is pushing recruitment. Ghastly doesn't look twice at the posters, but skug does. Ghastly's whole world is his family, their farm, and his father's tailoring business. But skug's father is a diplomat, he's got extended family involved in the war, he was supposed to go to a fancy French university that ended up being burned down during an attack by some pro-Mevolent riots, he's had to field questions from smaller siblings about when - and if - their dad would be coming home. He's highly educated, politically savvy, and emotionally involved. He decides he wants to sign up to fight.

- Saoirse does her best to talk him out of it, but skug is skug, and he digs his heels in and insists this is what he wants to do. He's going to join the war effort.

- Ghastly and Hopeless think it over and decide to join up with him. Hopeless, because he's an idealistic young man looking for glory, and Ghastly because someone has to watch skulduggery's back and keep him out of trouble, or he'll get himself shot long before he gets to set foot on a battlefield.

- honestly, ghastly isn't expecting skug to last long in the army. Skug is a pampered spoiled rich brat, and he's about to be surrounded by people who will scream in his face and make him do drills and expect him to obey orders, and he thinks it will take a few weeks tops before skug wants to desert

- that is. Not what happens

- like. none of them like it very much to begin with. hopeless has never had to do this much exercise in his life, and he hates it. ghastly is lonely and homesick and just wants to go back to dublin. and their first CO decides he hates skug on like, their first day of training, because he's a smart-mouthed arrogant asshole who's never had to be afraid of anything but his own father, and he does not react well to being ridiculed during drills. skug's ego takes a good solid battering because the other enlistees don't appreciate being given extra chores as punishment for him mouthing off, ghastly has to crack some skulls to make sure he won't be bullied for his scars, hopeless doesn't quite fit in and gets some nasty ribbing over it

- but also? they've got untapped talent, all three of them. they end up black ops fighters for a reason. hopeless tops the class for intelligence and undercover operations, because he can become anyone. ghastly is strong and level-headed and does well under pressure. and skulduggery is a natural leader, a ruthless tactician, and has a tendency to pull off insane plans that would go horribly for anyone else.

- they survive basic training. they get sent into the field. and ghastly and hopeless find that they're actually pretty good at this. they earn the respect of the rest of their platoon. and skulduggery? he starts to thrive

- this is the era of wealthy aristocrats buying their way into leadership positions they don't have the experience or common sense to do well in. almost none of the lower-class soldiers have any patience for it, but as a fellow aristo Skug has the social standing to call them out on it, so he still has a habit of making enemies of his commanding officers. he resents being handed orders by men who are less than he is, less clever, less observant, less capable. he goes out of his way to prove that his way of doing things is better.

- and? it works for him, sort of. he gets promoted several times - first he's pulled out of the enlisted ranks to be trained up as an officer, then he makes lieutenant, then captain - partly because he's Challenging to deal with and partly because he's becoming incredibly competent. it's fairly common for skug to get a flogging (for disobeying orders) and a promotion (because it worked out well for him) simultaneously. he has quite a few stripes by the time he meets wifey. when he starts being given command of a squad of his own, he takes ghastly with him as his number two, and hopeless comes along for the ride.

- at some point, skug gets palmed off on then-colonel corrival deuce. it's phrased as "oh here i'll give you some of my best men", but corrival is experienced enough to recognise "god please take this one off my hands im begging you" when he sees it, and sure enough, he butts heads with skug almost as soon as they're introduced.

- by this point skulduggery's men have developed a reputation for being a bit wild, and they're very loyal to him, so corrival has his work cut out. but? he's got a bit of a different approach to a lot of his fellow officers, because he came up through the ranks himself. so instead of locking horns with skug and trying to flog him into compliance, he turns skug into his pet project, his protégé. he gives him a loose rein, defends his decisions to the higher-ups, and doesn't interfere too much with how skug runs his team, but he also doesn't tolerate backtalk, bullshit or cheek. he's the stern-but-fair mentor figure - the Captain Holt/Captain Pellew/Lord Wellington to skug's Peralta/Hornblower/Sharpe. and skug's never had a very involved father figure, because ghastly's father is massively introverted and his own was short-tempered and perpetually disappointed in him, so corrival trips his "kids want boundaries" switch and actually wins him over.

- corrival hangs onto him after that. as he gets promoted and moved around, skug goes with him, and by extension so do his team. corrival learns to use the sensible members of the group - ghastly and hopeless, then erskine - to triangulate skug and stop his temper getting the better of him. he's incredibly proud of his chosen men, and all three of them really come into their own under his guidance. skug turns down promotion a couple times because it would mean a change of CO, and he knows there aren't many people he'd take orders from anymore.

- and then skug meets wifey.

- when skug gets married, neither his mother or father attend. they don't approve of wifey or her pitiful dowry. they assume, as does kenspeckle, that he's marrying her to Do The Decent Thing because he's knocked her up, and his father reassures him that he doesn't have to marry the girl, just send her somewhere far away and send her money to support her brat, and this whole sorry indiscretion can be put behind him. skug is. furious. he was smart enough not to take wifey with him to announce the engagement, and he ends up having a screaming match with his father that ends with him a) walking out and b) getting disinherited. he marries her anyway, and despite mr and mrs pleasant senior snubbing the whole event, he's got a full complement of parents there all the same - ghastly's parents turn up, and so does corrival.

- it's a military thing - skug's in his military dress uniform, they cut the cake with his sword - the parade sword, at least, the one he's never actually used, they walk out of the venue through the sword arch and skug's team do the rifle salute. ghastly's mother drags him to one side, pulls him down by the shirtfront to fuss over his hair and try to make it lay flat, licks her thumb and wipes a smudge off his cheek, embarrasses him in front of all his friends. then corrival snags him while they're waiting for the bride, tells him off for not having perfectly shiny buttons, redoes his collar for him, and tells him, "You'll do" like he isn't about to cry a lil. he offers skug some whiskey from his flask "for courage" and without really thinking skug says he doesn't need it because he's never been so sure about anything in his life and corrival is just. he's fine. he's not choked up at all. stand up straight, boy, for god's sake.

- he also makes a speech ghastly still brings up hundreds of years later, because it's the soppiest the old man ever got with any of them. along the lines of "i never had a son, and if i had, i like to think he would've turned out absolutely nothing like you, because you are single-handedly the reason i am going grey several hundred years ahead of schedule. that being said, i couldn't be prouder of the man you've become; you are at least half as stubborn and annoying now as you were when i met you, and i think i can claim at least some of the credit." and then, to wifey, "as to you, my dear, you have freed me, this monster is yours now. to your health, and my heartiest hopes that your future children turn out like you, because one of him is plenty."

- wifey laughs until her sides hurt and she's wheezing. skug pretends he's offended. ghastly wolf-whistles noisily and gets clipped round the ear by his mama. corrival tears up a little in the middle of his speech and clears his throat to hide it. and when it's all over and they're about to leave, wifey thanks him for coming because she knows it meant a lot to skug, and he promises her he'll do his best to bring skug home safe and sound until this damnable war is over.

(he wishes he'd been able to keep that promise until the day he dies)

#Anon #fire message #skulduggery pleasant #sp headcanons #skugwife #skug #corrival deuce #long post

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frobster · 4 years

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Offer of a Lifetime - Ch 3

This only took a million years.

Completely SFW chapter. Bucky takes MJ and Peter to Olive Garden for dinner and talking.

Find the whole story on ao3!

☆☆☆

MJ and Bucky flanked Peter as they walked into the restaurant, which ended up being an Olive Garden. Nothing fancy, like Bucky had promised, but still nice enough to be a treat to Peter. Bucky didn’t even need to say anything to the hostess before she gathered up menus and led them to a corner booth. Peter was once again in the middle.

Bucky had his arm up along the back of the booth like he wanted to wrap around Peter’s shoulders, looking as casual as possible in a family restaurant. He flipped idly through the menu and Peter had to remind himself that the prices didn’t matter even though $20 for a plate of pasta seemed absolutely outrageous to him.

“Order whatever you want, Peter,” Bucky said as he set his menu down, having apparently already decided. “Any appetizers you want? Hell, order everything. You can take the leftovers home.”

Peter swallowed nervously and glanced over to MJ. She seemed vaguely surprised too, but more excited about it than Peter.

“Could we get the sample platter?” MJ looked over at Bucky and gave him a winning smile. He nodded easily and looked down at Peter.

“You want anything in particular? They got fried vegetables. Ain’t really healthy being fried, but vegetables are still good.” Already, Bucky was trying to take care of Peter somehow. MJ snickered beside him and Peter blushed, ducking his head to avoid looking at Bucky.

“Sure, sounds good,” Peter mumbled.

MJ could easily tell that Peter was feeling a bit overwhelmed, a bit out of place. She knew he struggled with his self-confidence at times and agreeing that he deserved nice things. This was one of those moments - where the option to be pampered and spoiled was right in front of him and yet he was ready to turn it down.

So she nudged him gently and offered a smile when he looked at her. Peter managed a small smile in return and leaned over to lay against her. MJ wrapped her arm around his shoulders and rubbed his arm soothingly.

Bucky watched and made a mental note of the bond between the two. Peter clearly trusted MJ and needed reassurance from her. He didn’t feel slighted, he was actually glad that Peter was so willing to ask for support even when out in public.

“How about those veggies?” MJ asked, her voice soft almost like a mother talking to her child. “You like green beans, right?”

Peter sat up and took a deep breath, looking more settled after his moment with MJ. He nodded and finally opened the menu that was set in front of him when they were first seated, skimming over the appetizer section. The sample platter didn’t have the fried green beans so maybe he could ask for those too.

“Could we get those too?” Peter asked as he looked over to Bucky.

“Of course we can. I told you, you can order anything you want.” Bucky was never known for being gentle in his line of work, quite the opposite. But Peter had him feeling soft inside and he just wanted to make the boy happy however he could.

Soon, the waitress came over to ask for their drink orders and if they wanted any appetizers. MJ got to order her one alcoholic drink, a pomegranate mojito, and Peter ordered lemonade. Bucky asked for just water for himself and ordered the two appetizers.

With their appetizers on the way, MJ flipped her menu to the entree section. She was fully intent on ordering whatever had the most food in it so she could take some home and have leftovers for a day or two. Peter knew that Bucky had the money to buy everything on the menu a hundred times over, but he still felt guilty looking at dishes that cost more than $20.

“You’re allowed to order whatever you want,” Bucky reminded Peter, having leaned over to speak near his ear.

Peter startled, not realizing that Bucky had leaned in so close.

“Y-yeah, I know. I just… Do people really spend so much for pasta? I could make this at home for like five bucks if I had the skill.”

Bucky chuckled and reached up to ruffle Peter’s hair, finding him to be absolutely adorable. Peter grumbled and tried to fix his hair while MJ snickered at the scene. The casual touches between them didn’t feel so awkward or scary like Peter had feared, and MJ could tell that he was starting to feel more comfortable.

“Hell, get two meals. You can eat a little of both then take the rest home. I just want you to order whatever you think sounds good.”

Even when his aunt was still alive, Peter was never able to order two meals. They had to be frugal with their money and rarely went out to eat at all, only on special occasions. Getting to peek into the life of a rich person nearly had Peter’s head spinning. But MJ nudged him again and pointed to a shrimp scampi dish that came with pasta, and suddenly Peter was much more willing to order.

“Oh, shrimp.” Peter focused on the seafood section of the menu, skimming for shrimp dishes.

Bucky watched, making another note of Peter’s love for shrimp. Maybe he could use it as a treat in the future - offering to make a shrimp dish for dinner if Peter came over again, mentioning that the gala he wanted to take Peter to would have a refreshment table with shrimp cocktail. He chuckled to himself as he continued to look over the menu just to keep his gaze off Peter to avoid making the younger man uncomfortable.

The waitress returned with their drinks and MJ eagerly accepted hers, taking a testing sip before nodding and sipping again. Peter made a face at the lemon seeds clearly visible in his glass and Bucky, ever attentive to Peter, made his own sound of dissatisfaction.

“Excuse me, could we get a lemonade without any seeds? They just make it difficult to drink.” Bucky was looking intensely at the waitress. It wasn’t really her fault, but he wasn’t going to let her leave without fixing the situation. She nodded and snatched the glass away again before hurrying back to the kitchen.

Peter flushed again, embarrassed about being fussed over. He could’ve picked them out with his straw just fine. But Bucky seemed like someone who didn’t let go of details, no matter how small, and Peter would just have to get used to that if he was going to agree to Bucky’s deal. Even though they didn’t really know much about each other, Peter could already tell that Bucky was a very controlling type and used to having everything go his way.

The waitress soon returned with a new glass of lemonade, no seeds visible, and Bucky nodded in approval. She scampered off to fulfill their dinner order and Peter sipped at his drink. He relaxed a little, always comforted by the familiar tang of the drink like his aunt used to hand-squeeze every summer. The memory made him lean into MJ again and she just pet his head gently.

“You gotta try making it yourself one day,” she insisted, knowing exactly where his mind went.

“It wouldn’t be the same.” Peter took another sip. It wasn’t as sweet as May used to make.

“Add some strawberries, make it pink.” MJ set her drink down, which was a deep maroon from the pomegranate syrup used to make it.

Peter had always been more drawn to pretty, “feminine” colors and themes rather than the typical masculine aesthetic. Light yellow lemonade mixed with the pale red of mashed strawberries sounded like a beautiful drink. Maybe if he could afford fresh fruit one week, he would try it.

“I got a juice press back at the apartment,” Bucky mentioned. Peter glanced back over, immediately interested. “You could come over any time you want and use it.”

MJ grinned, not that Peter saw. She appreciated that Bucky understood the situation and wanted to offer his help as well. Peter’s happiness really was important to him and that was what she wanted to ensure. If Bucky didn’t truly care for Peter, she wouldn’t let Peter run off with him.

“Maybe we can all go back to your place after this? I wanna make sure Peter will be comfortable if he does decide to stay with you.” MJ was as overbearing as ever and Peter just ducked his head. He felt like a kid with his two parents talking about him, much like he did whenever her and Ned spoke. It wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling, but it did leave him feeling a little helpless.

“If you both feel up to it, sure. I can get Peter security clearance so he can visit any time. And with that clearance, he can bring guests. So you and Ned can visit as well, so long as he is with you.” Bucky’s easy agreement had MJ nodding as she rubbed Peter’s arm to draw his attention back to the conversation.

“Sounds good,” he agreed as he sat up again. Seeming like a needy child probably wouldn’t endear him to Bucky. And he didn’t want to let his chance at a better life slip away before he could make his decision.

“So Bucky, how’d you get into this line of work?” MJ asked casually before sipping at her drink again.

Peter froze, immediately assuming that Bucky would just up and leave after such an invasive question. Did she really have to jump right into the deep end? He wanted to glare at her but before he could even turn his head to do so, he felt Bucky moving next to him.

“Well,” Bucky started as he shifted in his seat. “That is a long story, and not one I feel inclined to share in a public space. If you truly want to know, I can tell you in the future. But you are essentially a stranger still and that isn’t a story I tell to just anyone.”

It was an evasive yet understandable answer. Peter didn’t expect Bucky to pour out his life story during their second meeting. The man was powerful and private and would likely never share any personal information in a public space.

“Would I be in any danger?” Peter asked softly. He was no stranger to an unsteady life, and working the streets came with its own risks. But living with a mafia boss was a far different experience.

“No. I would never allow that.” Bucky’s voice was firm as he looked at Peter, their first moment of eye contact since they entered the restaurant.

“But you can’t really control it, can you?” MJ was leaning in close, eyes narrowed. This was what she wanted - the chance to really interrogate Bucky.

“Yes I can. I own my apartment building, and most of the buildings on that block. I chose the security myself, I had systems installed, I have them checked every month. My building is safe and Peter will be safe there.”

“I’m just gonna be some kept boy you leave at home while you do whatever you want?” Now Peter sounded offended. He was used to freedom, maybe a little too much. While being taken care of sounded nice, he wasn’t about to be a house pet.

Bucky huffed, sounding as annoyed as Peter felt. MJ watched with interest, curious to see how their first disagreement was handled. Peter was glaring at Bucky and Bucky was glaring at the table. The hustle and bustle of the restaurant around them seemed to fade into the distance as both men tried to mentally prepare themselves for the discussion that could easily become an argument.

“You wouldn’t be a kept boy,” Bucky finally said, looking up again. “I could assign you a security detail so at least one other person is with you whenever you aren’t at my apartment. I could put you and MJ in self-defense classes. I just want you to be safe.”

The raw honesty that caught Peter off-guard in the car hit him again. He blinked at Bucky as he tried to figure out where this affection could have possibly come from. One night together and suddenly Bucky was completely attached?

“I’ll teach you how to handle a knife, how to handle a gun. You’ll be able to protect yourself but you’ll still have security with you. The city isn’t safe, you know that, and I can’t let anything happen to you, Peter.” There was an unusual expression on Bucky’s face, his eyes swimming with emotion that Peter wasn’t used to seeing directed at him. It made his breath hitch and cheeks turn pink.

“Okay,” Peter managed to say, his voice faint as if he had forgotten how to speak.

MJ was wary next to him, but she stayed quiet. This was a conversation for Peter and Bucky, not for her. She would just take mental notes and text Ned so they could decide together if Peter would truly be safe and happy if he decided to live with Bucky.

“Okay?” Bucky brought his arm down from being draped on the booth behind Peter and set his hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “You’ll be safe with me, I promise. And I ain’t the kinda person who breaks promises.”

Peter had a vague idea how to handle knives. He kept a pocket knife and pepper spray at all times just due to his job. There were only a handful of times where he had to make use of them but he managed well enough. Actually getting training to protect himself, to be lethal if necessary, sent a thrill through him. That was… exciting. He wanted that power.

It was surprising to him and Peter wasn’t sure what to think about his reaction, so he just tucked it away to think about later.

“Okay,” he said again, voice a little stronger. “I wanna learn how to defend myself. MJ too.” If Bucky had all the money and resources in the world, surely he could manage to fit MJ into the training.

“MJ too,” Bucky agreed with a nod.

The tense mood between them eased off a bit, just in time for their food to arrive. Peter’s eyes lit up at the sight of his plate - shrimp scampi with an indulgent amount of shrimp. It was soaked in butter and lemon juice, and his mouth was already watering. Everyone had their entree in front of them, and the appetizers were set in the middle. Apparently their order was rushed, so it all finished at the same time.

“Enjoy.” Bucky smiled at Peter, who managed to smile back. He most certainly would enjoy this meal, even if there was no possible way that he could finish it all.

Peter didn't know where to start. Should he try the appetizers first, since that was the point of them? He bit his lip as he looked over the full table and tried to figure out what to eat first. There had never been so many options available before.

Taking initiative, Bucky scooped some fried green beans onto a small plate and nudged Peter's entree plate away. The little plate took its place and Peter felt a bit of relief at not having to choose. He felt MJ watching them even as she ate, trying to pretend she wasn't.

"Thanks," Peter said softly as he picked up a green bean, crunching into it and letting out a happy hum. Bucky set the cup of sauce on Peter's plate too and Peter was happy to dip his green beans. Rather than eating, Bucky just openly watched Peter eat with a smile, seeming quite content with himself.

It wasn't until Peter finished his green beans that he realized Bucky was watching him too. He glanced over and blushed, feeling embarrassed under the open attention.

"What? I get sauce on my face?" Peter immediately grabbed a napkin and rubbed at his face.

Bucky chuckled and shook his head, turning his attention to his own plate finally.

"No, doll. I just wanna make sure you're enjoying your food," Bucky answered with a smile. Peter huffed and pushed the small plate away so he could focus on his own entree.

The table was quiet for a bit as all three of them ate. MJ continued to watch the other two from the corner of her eye as she ate silently. She had a decent feeling about Bucky despite his dangerous affiliations and she appreciated that he had paid attention to Peter.

Peter's dish was rich and he had to eat slowly. The shrimp was perfectly cooked and the lemon butter sauce lit up his taste buds like never before. He winced and shivered at a particularly sour bite and Bucky immediately leaned in again to check on him.

"I'm okay. Just not used to such strong flavors.” Peter managed a small smile again, feeling shy and uncertain under Bucky’s attention.

Peter had been trying to build up his self-confidence over the years. MJ had been a big help since he met her after high school and Ned was always available to talk in case he needed cheering up. Top surgery had done wonders for his physical confidence, but Peter still stumbled over words and struggled to process his emotions. He did his best to hide it behind a snarky facade, but Bucky had somehow broken right through that.

Bucky was clearly out of his depth too. Despite the powerful aura around him, there was an undercurrent of doubt as well. Peter could sense it and felt a little less nervous knowing that Bucky actually cared enough to be worried. He scooted a little closer to Bucky, which prompted the older man to drop his arm from the back of the booth to drape it around Peter’s shoulders instead.

Despite being a prostitute, Peter was not very used to affection. Maybe because his line of work wasn’t actually affectionate. He knew twenty ways to suck a dick, but cuddling was way out of his familiarity. It was awkward to have Bucky holding him if only because he didn’t know what to do. What did people usually do when they cuddled?

Peter glanced over to MJ who just grinned and gave him a thumbs-up. He rolled his eyes and she snickered before going back to her food. Peter tried to eat too, but leaning into Bucky got him dangerously close to the man’s fancy, expensive suit and he didn’t want to risk getting any food on it. Bucky liked him, but he was sure there were limits to that affection. Likely ending at getting his suit ruined.

“Are you full?” Bucky gently rubbed Peter’s shoulder, drawing him out of his thoughts.

“Um, n-not yet. I just didn’t wanna get anything on you,” Peter mumbled, ears going red with embarrassment.

Bucky huffed, whether in annoyance or amusement, Peter wasn’t sure. He shifted nervously as Bucky pulled his arm away and immediately assumed he had done something wrong. But all that happened was Bucky taking his suit jacket off to drape over the booth on his other side before grabbing another napkin to lay over his lap.

“There, now you don’t have to worry,” Bucky said with a smile as he wrapped his arm around Peter again.

Peter was continuously surprised by the generosity and thoughtfulness of Bucky’s actions towards him. He blinked for a moment before leaning in again and stabbing another forkful of shrimp pasta.

“Thank you,” he murmured after he swallowed, still blushing.

Their meal continued peacefully with the waitress coming to check on them almost every ten minutes. She was quick to refill drinks and clear empty plates away, clearly not wanting to upset Bucky. Whether she knew who he was or not, Peter knew anyone would fear Bucky. His eyes could get cold and emotionless as a glacier when he glared, and he could convey a threat without even opening his mouth. It was equal parts thrilling and terrifying.

By the time everyone was full, Peter felt like he would never need to eat again. He was leaning heavily into Bucky and knew he had eaten too much. But it was all so delicious and he couldn’t help himself. A few other waitstaff came over to get their food into boxes to take back home and Peter was grateful that he didn’t have to move and do it himself.

MJ seemed happy enough so far, but she was still determined to go to Bucky’s apartment and make sure Peter would be comfortable and cared for there. She wanted to make sure the building was safe, that Peter wouldn’t be risking his life just by being associated with Bucky.

Bucky paid for the meal once everything was packed up, purposefully angling the bill away from Peter so he couldn’t panic about it. When everything was settled, Bucky slid out of the booth and pulled his jacket on again before holding out a hand for Peter.

“I promised we would go to my apartment together. Are you still feeling up for that?” Bucky asked as he held Peter’s hand again.

Peter glanced over to MJ, who nodded as she gathered up the bags.

“I’m not letting Peter out of my sight. And I need to give your place my stamp of approval before anything else happens.” Her tone was firm and confident, everything Peter tried to be.

“As you wish.” Bucky led them out of the restaurant and into the same car as before. Peter tucked closer to Bucky this time. “You two can spend the night in a spare room or I can drive you both back to your own homes. Up to you.”

The car started moving but Peter didn’t sway as much that time. He was comfortably tucked against Bucky, eyes closed and hands on his stomach. A sleepy, lazy feeling had settled over him after eating so much and all he wanted to do was take a nap. Whether in his own bed or Bucky’s, he didn’t really mind.

“I think Peter may have already made that decision for us,” MJ joked with a smile.

Bucky was happy to hold Peter, to make sure he was comfortable during the drive to his apartment. Both he and MJ had their own protective feelings towards Peter, and MJ knew this. She was growing to appreciate Bucky’s efforts rather than being suspicious of them.

“I’ll still have him sleep in a separate room from mine. It wouldn’t be fair to take advantage of his exhaustion,” Bucky insisted. He wanted MJ to like him. She was a good person and meant so much to Peter.

MJ just nodded and leaned back in her seat. Maybe they would spend the night. It would give her more time to explore and think through everything. She didn’t want to overlook any detail that could lead to Peter’s discomfort or unhappiness.

Both Bucky and MJ were thinking the same thing: Peter deserved perfect happiness.

#winterspider #bucky/peter #bucky barnes #peter parker #michelle jones #marvel fic #winterspider fic #my writing #offer of a lifetime #i tried to do a read more and i hope it works sjdfhsdj

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chaoswillfallrpg · 4 years

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LUCIUS MALFOY is TWENTY-NINE YEARS OLD and a SOCIALITE amongst THE SACRED TWENTY-EIGHT in LONDON. He looks remarkably like AUSTIN BUTLER and considers himself aligned with THE DEATH EATERS. He is currently TAKEN.

→ OVERVIEW:

A proud and pampered young man who believes the world owes him everything and more, Lucius Malfoy is known for prowess, powers of persuasion and pompous attitude. The only child of ABRAXAS and SULPICIA MALFOY, Lucius was raised in the lap of luxury at his family home Malfoy Manor in rural Wiltshire. A spoiled boy, Lucius was informed from a young age of his birthright as a Malfoy. He was entitled to his family estate and all their riches but also a legacy that spanned generations and included some of the most powerful people who sat on the fringes of the wizarding world. His father Abraxas had too much money to believe a job was any sort of a necessity but also believed that having a hand in government was very important. Their family had strict values and were well known in their beliefs that members of the magical community should reign superior over Muggles they were forced to shy away from. Growing up in the deep countryside, Lucius never had any contact with Muggles and instead based his opinion on the word of his father who would come home and talk at length about his disgust in them and the Minister for Magic at the time Nobby Leach. His father’s opinions stretched also to Muggle-Born witches, wizards and sorcerers who head the same level of disregard for, believing they were Muggles who managed to steal magic in order to join their world as well as rule their own.

Though Lucius was never offered a firm answer on the matter until Abraxas was on his deathbed, Lucius had long suspected his father had a hand in the ousting of Nobby Leach from office, having skuled in too many corridors growing up and seeing familiar faces pass in and out of his father’s study until the day it was announced he was to resign during Lucius’ third year at school. Some faces remained, those of his father’s friends from other important families. THIEBAUT LESTRANGE, CYGNUS and WALBURGA BLACK were regular visitors of his father’s with children of a similar age to Lucius he was informed to befriend. Abraxas was a cold and demanding parent with high expectations of Lucius to join the social elite and continue his work of furthering their family legacy and improving the world around them. Lucius was taught that people like RODOLPHUS LESTRANGE and BELLATRIX BLACK were the right sort of friends, whilst those like ARTHUR WEASLEY who would also be in his year at school did not deserve the name wizard due to their family obsession with accepting and Muggles and befriending Muggle-Borns. Before Lucius had even received his letter to study at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry he had a clear idea of how his time at school would unfold.

Already informed by his father that Bellatrix and Rodolphus were awaiting him, Lucius was confident that he would fulfil his father’s wishes of making the right sort of friends and was promptly sorted into Slytherin alongside them before the hat had even grazed his head. Immediately positioning himself as a model student, Lucius was made a prefect in his fifth year and became a firm favourite of PROFESSOR HORACE SLUGHORN who invited to join The Slug Club alongside his friend DECIUS FLINT who had been collected by Slughorn due to his Quidditch prowess rather than his academic accolades like Lucius. Though Lucius became close with a number of Slytherin students during his time at Hogwarts including Bellatrix, Rodolphus and their friends EVAN ROSIER and CASTOR WILKES, Lucius attempted to separate himself from them and establish his own group of friends with Decius which included THORFINN ROWLE, CHRISTIANO PARKINSON and MARSHALL FAWLEY. The boys asserted themselves above the rest of their fellow students and were both feared and revered for their antics whilst at Hogwarts. Lucius was popular during his time at school though mostly with other students from similar backgrounds to himself from notable Pure-Blood families. His arrival at Hogwarts coincided with a movement taking shape with Bellatrix at the helm.

A dark wizard whispered as Lord Voldemort was beginning to collect followers through Bellatrix who saw potential in Lucius. At first Lucius had no desire to be part of any club intent on overthrowing a whole government, scared it would upend his standing within society until his father weighed in on the matter. Their family views aligned with the man who Lucius would later come to learn was once called TOM RIDDLE, his father seeing opportunity for their family in this movement he believed his son should take better notice of. Although Lucius had an eye on the situation, his focus was on finishing at Hogwarts a decorated student and set on the person he would have by his side when he finally took over at the helm of his household. His mother had quite fancied him take a shine to NARCISSA BLACK, but a much younger witch than he was he had cast her aside as quick as his mother had mentioned it and instead began to look amongst his group of friends before his eyes settled on ANDRESSA PARKINSON. A beautiful witch from a very notable family, he knew Andressa would make a fine wife and began to make arrangements to begin courting her upon leaving school. Graduating from Hogwarts, Lucius moved back to his family estate and began living off the Malfoy creature comforts that he was entitled to.

The first few years after leaving school were filled with parties with other notable families, attending Quidditch matches and rubbing shoulders with the wizarding elite and growing closer to Andressa who soon became his girlfriend. Lucius was content with the life he was living, despite watching friends round him joining The Dark Lord’s movement he didn’t feel the need to pledge his assistance in the belief that whatever happened the Malfoy family would weather the storm. It was the sudden death of his father when Lucius was twenty-five that changed his perspective on the war. Abraxas who called his son to his bedside told Lucius to join their family friends in their support for The Dark Lord as his dying wish, detailing to Lucius his involvement in the coup to rid The Ministry of it’s Muggle-Born Minister in the hopes it would bring about a better life for their people. He passed later that day leaving Lucius the Malfoy family home, fortune and a way of carrying forward his family legacy. At the funeral Lucius approached Bellatrix once more and expressed his desire to follow up with his father’s work and support The Dark Lord in any way he might need. Heir apparent to a long line of political patronage in the magical community, Lucius wasted little time in carrying on the family tradition of frequenting the headquarters of the Ministry of Magic in London.

Claiming the Malfoy’s stringent opinions had died with his father he quickly charmed TIBERIUS MCLAGGEN, BILLIUS WEASLEY and HARRISON BAGNOLD, bringing them to his girlfriend’s speakeasy and attempting to garner information from them over multiple glasses of firewhiskey, successfully used his family name and fortune to curry favour with a number of high-ranking Ministry officials, and became a very well-connected among them. With Bellatrix trusting him with more information and responsibility as he ferried back information to The Death Eaters he was entrusted with a mentee. SEVERUS SNAPE reminded him a lot of himself, a quiet and studious man he was not as much of a peacock as Lucius but preferred to watch situations and could read people with ease which Lucius only helped him sharpen. His life was going according to plan, then Lucius was reintroduced to a spanner in his perfect plans. Bellatrix’s youngest sister Narcissa Black had emerged into wizarding high society and grown to be one of the most beautiful witches he had ever laid eyes on. Lucius wanted to believe he was happy with Andressa, but with every exchange he shares with Narcissa his perfect relationship seems to be fragmenting before his very eyes.

→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION:

Blood Status → Pure-Blood

Pronouns → He/Him

Identification → Cis Male

Sexuality → Up to Roleplayer

Relationship Status → In a Relationship with Andressa Parkinson

Previous Education → Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Slytherin)

Societies → N/A

Family → N/A

Connections → Andressa Parkinson (girlfriend), Decius Flint (best friend), Thorfinn Rowle (best friend), Christiano Parkinson (best friend), Marshall Fawley (best friend), Severus Snape (close friend/mentee), Bellatrix Black (close friend), Rodolphus Lestrange (close friend), Evan Rosier (close friend), Castor Wilkes (close friend), Tiberius McLaggen (friend), Harrison Bagnold (friend), Billius Weasley (friend), Arthur Weasley (adversary), Narcissa Black (potential love interest)

Future Information → Husband of Narcissa Black, Father of Draco Malfoy

LUCIUS MALFOY IS A LEVEL 6 WIZARD.

#lucius malfoy #austin butler #draco malfoy #death eater #marauders era rp #wizard #magic #malfoy #socialite #civilian #taken #taken death eater #taken wizard

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ntshastark · 3 years

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ok, I’ve finished watching it so here it goes:

Bridgerton final impressions

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT

Daphne: I love her!!!!!!!!! I loved her on the book and I loved her on the show. My only complain is..... The Scene........ The way they changed it up made it so they could’ve easily swapped The Scene for a confrontation. I guess they didn’t want Simon to be the only asshole of the two but then they never addressed how Daphne was wrong too??? They just use the Whistledown voice-over to basically say “oh she’s desperate so it’s understandable” and then kinda shift all the blame onto Violet - and, don’t get me wrong, her sex talk is shit and she should know it, but what Daphne did was already after Rose really explained her how sex really works, so ignorance isn’t really an excuse....

Simon: I love him!!!!!!!!! I loved him on the book and I loved him on the show. My only complain is how they handled his daddy issues arc’s resolution. Like, Daphne just tells him he doesn’t need to be perfect to be loved and! Just like that! He is cured! Childhood trauma? I don’t know her! They don’t even address the real problem, which is Simon going from living to please his father to living to spite his (dead) father, and the book just handled it SO WELL, I really don’t understand why they changed it in the show.

I hope Simon and Daphne don’t get brushed off to the side now that their book’s story is over. Simon and Anthony’s friendship still needs a little patching up; there’s the Will and Alice storyline that, if they choose to continue, Simon will likely be involved in; and Daphne is pregnant during Anthony’s book, so they can do something about that too, and maybe about her helping out Eloise during her first season... I know they won’t be the focus of the story ever again, but I just hope they keep showing up like ABC and E did on this season, and aren’t just mentioned to be doing their own thing off-screen like Francesca was.

Anthony: .......................................................Sigh. I don’t know who that incompetent, irresponsible, lovesick idiot is, but it’s sure as hell not Anthony. They literally took everything about his character, cut into pieces, made a nonsensical collage and called it characterisation. The real Anthony has an incredibly strong sense of duty and responsibility to both his title and his family, because he feels he has to do it as good as his father would - which, in his head, is perfection. He doesn’t skip and/or arrives late to important events because he’s fooling around with his mistress, and he wouldn’t just wave away his responsibilities to his brothers - especially because they are also his responsibility. The real Anthony cares deeply about the happiness of his siblings, and does everything to secure them the Happily Ever After he himself doesn’t believe he’ll ever have. He would never force one of them to marry someone they clearly despise, especially with no serious reason. The real Anthony was a rake who jumped from bed to bed without letting himself create real attachments, because he deeply believes he’s going to die young and can’t bring himself to make someone go through the same pain his mother did when his father died. He simply wouldn’t remain seeing a woman if he thought he was developing feelings for her - and that only changed when he was forced to marry Kate - and he definitely wouldn’t ask someone to run away with him when he’s finally free of society, jesus fucking christ what the hell even was that?????? And so they - knowing he was going to be next season’s protagonist, mind you - took all of the characteristics Anthony developed in the 10 years since his father’s death, largely because of Edmond - both in how he raised him and in how his death traumatised him - and said “hey, what if we make all of this happen in like 3 months, and be all about that opera singer he kissed once in the book!”

Violet: I love her, but I feel like they sacrificed a lot of Anthony’s character for her sake......... The Nigel thing is a great example of that: The way she solved it was amazing, but for that to happen they had to make Anthony cause the problem in the first place, which was so ooc it physically hurt. And the way she’s constantly reminding him of how much he sucks as a Viscount, and even straight up saying that his father would’ve been much better was icky tbh

Eloise: Loved how they explored her relationships with Daphne and Benedict - and the queen thing was funny - but that’s about it. She’s so incredibly entitled holy fuck. Combine the fresh-faced feminist who just learned the buzzwords and now thinks sexism is the single biggest plague to ever walk this earth with the spoiled rich girl who wants the entire world to bend to her whims and refuses to do anything she doesn’t want, and that’s how you get show!Eloise. But, tbh, I don’t really mind. She’s a teenager, that’s just how teenagers are. We didn’t really see that much of her before the time jump in the books, she has a long way to go until her story takes center place, and I’m perfectly ok with us watching how she becomes the woman we see in TSPWL. Basically, not that big of a fan of her characterisation, but she is in a spot where she can spend some time turning into the woman from her book - unlike Anthony :)). My big issue is actually how her going from vehemently anti-marriage as a teenager to happily married and with a bunch of kids as an adult is going to feed such a tired trope...

Penelope: I love her, obviously, but oh boy is she fucked. I agree very much with this post re: what she did to Marina. I guess, because LW was initially just a writing device to allow for exposition, the show is gonna go WAY deeper into how the things that happen to Penelope (and her being a teenager) affect what she writes, and into the consequences of doing what she’s doing, but honestly? They might have overplayed it...... I really don’t see how in the fuck they’re gonna make the ending of RMB work in the show’s universe - and I already thought the books glossed over the consequences way too much. So, uh. Good luck I guess.

(Also, I wonder what they’re gonna do about that heir cliffhanger. I just assumed Penelope was gonna do what she does in the books and find a way to give part of the Whistledown money to her mother. Gotta admit it never occurred to me that, with all the Featherington children being women and their father being dead, the title and what comes with it technically belonged to a uncle or cousin or something)

Marina: I fucking hate them for making me get attached to her knowing what’s gonna happen. This poor girl, jesus christ. And, ok, a lot of times she seemed rude and ungrateful but 1. Her situation was fucking terrifying and 2. She was suddenly thrown into this world of pampered, superficial, and naive girls, and that can test anyone’s patience. Also, yeah, the whole manipulating Colin thing was not cool, but, again, it was either that, an elderly likely-abusive husband, or a life of shame on the margins of society, so uhhh.

(Also, that scene when she said she would love for her, Penelope and Eloise to be sisters........ And I thought Eloise becoming Oliver and Amanda’s mother couldn’t hit me any harder......... Imagine an AU where George survived and he and Marina get married and Eloise marries Philip and Penelope marries Colin and they’re all sisters-in-law to each other and I cry my eyes out)

Colin: Gotta be honest with ya, chief... I don’t think he passes the sexy lamp test. Missed his and Daphne’s special relationship, missed his love of food, missed his sense of humour... At least he and Penelope were cute. I’m actually already shipping them more in the show than in the books.

Benedict: I think they’re trying to mirror him being in a relationship with a woman of no status (now Genevieve, then Sophie) with being gay and hmm. Really not sure about it. He does seem bicurious to me but I think they’re hesitant to give him an arc focused on exploring his sexuality when we know his love story is gonna be with a woman (but then again, they weren’t afraid of giving Anthony an arc about having a relationship with a woman of no status when we know his love story is gonna be with a perfectly respectable one, so *shrugs*). Once again, very glad they decided to make him and Eloise so close from the get-go. It’s going to make that scene on TSPWL where Benophie’s son gets sick so much more meaningful and painful, I can’t wait.

Siena and Genevieve: They’re both amazing women with an incredible friendship. Benedict and Genevieve have the relationship I was hoping Anthony and Siena would have, from the trailers.

Francesca: Glorified cameo. Disappointing. I know she doesn’t show up much in the books other than her own, but that should just have been seen as an opportunity to do whatever they wanted with her! Not make her disappear for 6/8 episodes! Hope they show more of her on the next season.

Gregory and Hyacinth: They’re baby. The scene where Gregory makes both Anthony and Simon fall on the water should’ve been there. Loved Hyacinth acting like she’s Simon’s BFF. Loved that they cut Hyacinth’s “wait for me” scene bc it reminded me too much of my annoying little cousin and made me not like her for the longest time.

Lady Danbury: 10/10. Please hit me with your cane. Am currently entertaining the idea of having her and Violet get together.

Barry B. Benson: A cold-blooded murderer

Overall: This didn’t fit into any character, but oh god........... the lack of chemises............ But I loved the show, even if some things annoyed me, and I can’t wait for season 2 AND MY GIRL KATE!!!!!!!!!!!!

#spoilers #bridgerton spoilers #the bridgerton spoilers #f: the bridgertons #s: bridgerton #t: talk post #mari rants

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i-went-to-a-cuddle-party-once · 4 years

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Dance, Dance

Summary: Jessica makes Teen Malcolm go to a dance. He makes the best of a bad situation.

Warnings: Not many? Bullying and people being jerks. Some cursing.

A/N: So I wrote this a few weeks ago and then forgot to post it and when I looked at it today to make any edits I ended revamping the whole dang thing because Why Not!

He sat in the leaned back chair while the esthetician rubbed yet another lotion on his face. He huffed and wished he was literally anywhere else in the world.

"Can you at least pretend to be enjoying this Malcolm? You're having a spa day, not being tortured by the Spanish inquisition."

"It's not exactly my form of relaxation mother. If you wanted to pamper someone you should have brought Ainsley," he replied through grit teeth.

"There, all done." The woman awkwardly smiled at both of them before leaving the room.

"Usually I would have," she returned her attention to her son," but I needed to get you ready for the dance."

"The what?"

"The dance. Malcolm we talked about this. I allowed you to buy that sword from the auction and you agreed to go to a social event of my choosing." He cradled his head in his hands. It was a nice katana, 15th century, great condition and it looked gorgeous on his bedroom wall.

"Don't touch your face sweetheart, you'll undo all the hard work she did. We can't have you breaking out before the big day!" She squealed with excitement and Malcolm felt himself die a little on the inside.

…

"I don't even go to that school. Or any school! I won't know anyone." They sat at the dinner table hours later, the arguments end nowhere in sight. Ainsley was practically glowing with the endless amount of fuel for teasing that had come along with all the preparations for the dance.

"That's the point, Malcolm. You don't know anyone. Anywhere. You don't socialize!" She set her fork gently down, staring daggers at her son.

"I talk to Gil all the time! And Jackie! And you and Ainsley. And-"

"Don't you dare say his name and ruin our good day," Malcolm slouched in his chair sulking, "Gil and Jackie don't count and you live with Ainsley and I. Although I still wouldn't count what little interaction you grace us with as socializing." She wiped the nonexistent crumbs from her face with a cloth napkin.

"I haven't even told you the most exciting part yet. I got you a date!" Malcolm's mouth hung open, completely speechless, and Ainsley burst into laughter.

…

He had given up on begging and bargaining and had settled into a state of acceptance. Hair carefully combed new suit on, corsage in hand. He sat stock-still next to his mother in his date's living room. His mother spoke animatedly with the girl's parents and Malcolm tried his hardest to remember what Gil had told him.

Of course, he was happy for him. Both Jackie and Gil squealed with the same sort of joy his mother had when she told him about the dance and date. None of them seemed to understand the embarrassment that stemmed from having your mother procure a date for you.

"Just try to enjoy yourself kid. You don't even have to dance. Although I do recommend it," he heard Jackie giggling in the background and could imagine Gil had taken her in his arms, twirling her around.

"Make your own fun. And please, be safe. Call me if you need me to get out of there." He kept the thoughts in his mind wishing he could call Gil now when his date finally joined them in the living room.

They made a handsome pair. Ashley and Malcolm. He could see his mother planning their wedding already. Her parents and his mother enjoyed themselves arranging the two of them for pictures like they knew each other and hadn't just met two minutes earlier.

She was pretty. Her blonde hair was piled into an intricate updo, dark blue eyes staring him down and a dangerous smile that made his stomach do flips that had nothing to do with attraction. She was deadly. The same type of girl that had bullied him mercilessly until he had begged his mother to allow him to be homeschooled.

He knew other boys his age would die to go on a date with a girl like her but all he saw was someone who could be paid off to go on a date with a complete stranger.

After what felt like a lifetime they finally left the house in a limo. The drive to the dance was excruciating. He hated small talk. Hated false pleasantries. They sat in silence. He sighed heavily and ran his hand through his hair, something he'd promised his mother he wouldn't do.

There was something that he knew inexplicably. Despite his temperament, odd interests, and father he was handsome and if he wanted to be he could be very charming. He swallowed his nerves before beginning his performance.

He looked up at his date, catching her eye with a flutter of his eyelashes before smiling shyly. She took the bait and gave him her full attention.

"I know this night probably isn't what you were hoping for. My mother sprung the whole idea on me three days ago. Though I can't say I'm entirely disappointed," he eyed her carefully knowing he'd done well when a slight blush crawled across her cheeks and a hint of a smile touched her lips.

"I only agreed to this because my mom owed your mom a favor. And I broke up with my boyfriend two weeks ago and didn't have a date and I was not going by myself." He laughed like it was the funniest thing he'd heard before shifting to sit closer to her.

"I highly doubt you would have a hard time finding a willing date." She giggled and he ignored the feeling that this was a bad idea.

...

The venue was just as loud as he had expected, music blaring from what felt like every direction. Ashley grabbed his hand in her own and pulled him in, quickly finding her friends and introducing him. He laughed when appropriate and smiled his wide alluring smile. He was clever and told jokes and when Ashley pulled him to the dance floor he danced without protest. He despised every moment of it.

He was only half paying attention when it happened. Half his mind was elsewhere, still trying to weigh if keeping his katana was worth all of this mess. It was the sharpness of his date’s voice that brought his attention back to the moment.

"Look, it's crying," She laughed, "I didn't know lower life forms had feelings." He looked to the girl her words were aimed at, tears and mascara already running down her face.

"What, you thought some cheap makeup and a store-bought dress could change the fact that you don't belong here? You're not Cinderella." His date and her friends laughed and he felt his anger rising.

"What the fuck is your problem," he was standing and the words were falling from his mouth before he could think to stop them. "I knew you were a spoiled brat who thinks that money is a replacement for a personality but I guess I was wrong," he clapped "you're a spoiled brat and an asshole who thinks they can get away with saying anything because mommy and daddy never had had the guts to tell you no." Ashley stared at him in shock before ripping her corsage off.

"This date is over," she stomped away, friends in tow eyeing him.

"Thank God, if I had to listen to another minute of your incessant rambling I was going to jump out of a window," he called back to her.

He looked to the other girl, her shoulders hunched and shaking. He guided her to an exit and watched her sit on the sidewalk before taking a seat on the pavement next to her.

"Thanks," her voice cracked. "I guess that's what I get for attempting to have one glamorous night. I know I'm not blonde and rich like her but does she have to be so obnoxious about it?" She looked down at herself with anger. "Not that all rich people are bad," she added taking a quick glance at him before blushing. He laughed his first genuine laugh of the night.

"No, I think we're all pretty terrible. Myself included." She chuckled and accepted the hankie he handed to her.

"Holy shit I didn't know rich people actually carried these. Is it sanitary?" He laughed again.

"I swear it's clean." He watched her wipe her tears and pull a compact from her bag before groaning at her reflection.

He tried not to stare but allowed himself to look at her, convincing himself that he was just trying to make sure she was okay. Her hair was in tight curls and swung loosely around her shoulders. Brown eyes rimmed with red from crying. Crimson lipstick painted on her full lips slightly smudged. She sat more relaxed, anxiety leaving her position.

"My name is Jenae by the way, and you are?" She offered a hand to him. He shook it, trying and failing to ignore the way his skin tingled at her touch.

"Malcolm. I'm Malcolm."

…

They sat on the curb for over an hour talking. He explained to her how he got roped into the whole situation ("that's the stupidest fucking thing I've heard. God, boys are dumb.") and she explained her situation to him. She had been accepted to the school due to an outreach program offered to underprivileged students. She loved the school and extensive science department but loathed the snooty rich kids that filled its halls. She was glad to put it all behind her in a few years.

"Do you wanna get out of here and do something fun? I have a limo?" She raised an eyebrow and he realized how his words could be interpreted." Oh, oh, no. I didn't mean it like that. I meant like Ice cream or something!” she giggled at his stammering and he had another thought, “Although getting into a limo with a guy you just met probably isn’t the best idea either, huh. How about in a cop car?”

…

Gil was there in minutes despite living over a half-hour away. Malcolm would question him later about it but for now, he was just grateful for the man coming without questioning what happened to the limo and why he was now on a date with a completely different girl. He drove them to an ice cream parlor he had regularly taken Malcolm and Ainsley to when they were younger and stayed in the car while Malcolm and Jenae went in.

She teasingly stole his phone and saved her number to it so he could text her later and his heart skipped a beat. Later. She wanted to talk to him and see him on a night other than tonight.

"You'll be a great scientist, I mean you're already thriving amongst a bunch of single-cell organisms." She groaned at his joke before frowning.

"I should probably head home my Abuelita will ground me for life if I get home after midnight." He offered her a hand down from the stool she sat on and nearly tripped over his own feet when he realized that instead of letting go she had wound her fingers between his.

…

The drive to drop her off went faster then he wanted it to last, which was forever. His hand was sweaty and he was sure she noticed but he refused to be the first to let go.

"Do you have any plans next weekend," she asked, "there's this art show I was thinking of checking out."

"Yes!" He cleared his throat and glared at Gil who was chuckling in the front seat. "I mean yeah, that'd be cool. Just text me the details."

The pulled up in front of her apartment building he held the car door open for her. He watched her make her way up the stairs to the door before closing his eyes, leaning against the car and unabashedly grinning to himself.

"Hey, Malcolm?" He opened his eyes to find her standing closer than he expected and before he could reply she leaned toward him and softly kissed his cheek. She turned away from him and ran up the stairs and through the front door. He slid his way into the passenger's seat where he could feel Gil's eyes on him. He covered his blushing face with his hands.

"It looks like you had a good time."

"Shut up Gil," the older man snorted, started the car and drove into the night. "Do you think it's too soon to text her?"

#prodigal son fic #prodigal son fanfic #teen malcolm bright #Jessica Whitly #Ainsley Whitly #some other random people #tw bullying #malcolm bright x oc #malcolm goes to a dance and has a surprisingly good time #my brain is blanking out on tags right now y'all I'll update this later #gil arroyo #how could I forget Gil #sometimes i write things

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jmespottuh · 4 years

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❛ if there’s one thing the gods love, it’s tragedy. with wings that burn and boys who fall. ❜

* ╰ brandon arreaga ; 17 ; he/him —— wow, james potter sure has changed. i guess he is feeling isolated from the other gryffindor members. guess you can’t really blame them. i still remember them being so charming & incisive now they just seem dependent & inexorable. guess being a pureblood isn’t helping matters much either. i’m hopeful though. they’ll be just fine.

links: pinterest, stats character parallels: bellamy blake ( the 100 ), shane madej ( buzzfeed unsolved ), jake peralta ( brooklyn nine-nine ), stefan salvatore ( the vampire diaries ), scott mccall ( teen wolf ), steve harrington ( stranger things )

james henry potter ( named for two his two grandfathers, maternal and paternal respectively ) was born on april 4th, 1960 to two of the most loving parents a child could have.

fleamont and euphemia had been trying for a child for years. they’d been together for basically all of time, having been that typical good-looking, well liked couple in hogwarts that everyone always just assumes will get married ( spoiler alert: they did ), however had had to postpone kids due to fleamont’s brief stint as a professional quidditch player for eight years following their graduation. after that, they would try every month for a child, and after many years of disappointment, eventually gave up. it was during this time that fleamont developed the sleekeazy hair potion which only added to their immense wealth.

finally at age forty-one, they were surprised with the arrival of james. obviously, they saw him as their miracle child, and as such he was pampered and completely spoiled from the moment he was born.

i cannot stress enough how much this spoiled upbringing shaped james into the person he is today. if you’re wondering why he was ever an arrogant prick, it’s because he was always used to getting absolutely everything he ever wanted. he grew up with money, he grew up with fame and with every bit of attention he could garner, and so it was really no wonder he was a bit of an asshole by the time he started at hogwarts.

obviously, james had a pretty cushy childhood, and as such, shit didn’t start getting real until he started at hogwarts.

it took all of three seconds for the hat to sort him into gryffindor, and i guess you could say he pretty much considered himself to be the gem of the house. he was the absolute epitome of a gryffindor, basically considered him the poster boy and all but expected everyone to love him.

really did not help his ego to know that everyone did.

in typical sterotype-gryffindor fashion, james hated slytherin. he had always been taught growing up that purists were basically the root of all evil, and his father had had no qualms in lumping all these people in with the house of the snakes. james and his friends took a particular disliking to severus snape almost immediately for the poncy way in which he seemed to believe he was superior to all for his intelligence and his house status, and this dislike only grew when lily evans was tossed into the mix, too.

for basically the first four or five years of hogwarts, james really was that stereotypical arrogant asshole that he’s often made out to be. he always got everything he asked for, he was incredibly popular and incredibly intelligent, he had the most amazing friends and his eyes on the most amazing girl. he was set!! shit was good!!

shit was not good, though. definitely was not.

despite having known of remus’ furry little problem since second year, things didn’t really start to settle in james how awful it was until third or fourth year. he hated seeing his friend in pain, he hated that he couldn’t help, and so he rallied the boys to put into action their worst plan yet!!!!

becoming animagi!!!!!!

it took fucking forever, obviously, but by the end of fourth year they did it!! we stan icons

except then in fifth year shit hit the fan again in just, like… so many ways

first, it was the whole severus ‘mudblood’ situation. honestly, james was absolutely furious. he’d always hated snape but this just made everything 1000 times worse. even if it had happened to anyone else, he would have been fuming. but for it to have happened to lily like… yikes.

this was also a horrible time for james though because lily rejected him for the thousandth time. like, look, what a yikes thing to think when she was just called a mudblood, but frankly he was sick of being rejected and he was sick of being the asshole who kept pressuring her so that was the breaking point — he gave up on her.

and tbh, he changed a lot from here on out. grew up!! became a better person bc he saw how horrible snap was and decided he was sick of horrible people!! saw, recognised and acknowledged that just bc he was hot and intelligent and rich he wasn’t always going to get everything he wanted ( see: miss evans ) and just generally learned that oh shit the world doesn’t revolve around him!!!

oh and then there was that whole thing with sirius and snape and remus the werewolf and ohhhh boyyyy…. that infuriated him.

he loves his bros so much and y’all know he would die for them, but to see his friend abuse remus’ pain and suffering for his own gain was heart wrenching. it just pushed him further to pull him in line, to realise that not everything was about games, or petty rivalry, or ‘ getting the girl ’ — life was heartache and mistakes and it was never going to go the way he wanted it to.

now look, this isn’t all to say that james is now a super strict, super intense, brooding weirdo. he’s still a bit of a child, and he’s still a bit of an arrogant prick, but ultimately what wins out is his morals — every time. he wants to lead the world to a better place, without war and without hate, he wants everyone to have the same opportunities he had as a kid and he wants nothing more than for blood purity to be eradicated.

get that shit outta my house!!! gross!!!!!!

now in his final year, james is always flipping between taking his role as head boy deadly serious and turning it into one big game of mischief. he’s still a marauder at heart, after all, and has definitely abused his power sometimes for the benefit of fun and games, but when it comes down to it, he can be very strict and lowkey paternal. the leader really just…. popped right outta him, it came to play and it came hard, and really you’d think he’s minister for magic with how serious he treats it sometimes.

i hate him.

the disappearance of one of his best friends, one peter pettigrew, landed james to flop pretty fucking hard on the side of seriousness. once you spend months without knowing where your best friend is, thinking he’s dead, you’re bound to start to lose a bit of that which once made you smile. it was this piled on top of what james had already been feeling which led the head boy to start finding ways he could join the revolution within the walls of hogwarts --- it’s been bloody hard but james is determined to make a difference, to make sure no one else he loves suffers in a war that they never asked to fight in the first place.

anyway here’s some fun facts that didn’t fit up top

james is a lot less intense with his hatred for slytherin’s. he has come to recognise that not everyone from that lifestyle is going to be the same, not everyone who grew up a certain way or was sorted into a certain house is going to think with a deadly mind, and while he’s still a bit wary, he’s a lot more relaxed about it, especially as head boy ( gotta at least pretend shit’s fair !!! )

he’s very dependent as in like… boi cannot go a week without his friends. he is used to having people to bounce off, that’s always the type of leader he has been, and as much as he would probably be amazing at anything on his own, he’s never really tried. too scared!! i hate him!!!!!

super unforgiving. like, if you have gotten on his bad side…. i’m sorry. it is going to be very difficult to return from there. his moral compass is pretty black and white, you’re either good or your bad, and if you’ve done something he considers bad well sucks to be you, i guess. sorry not sorry.

takes his quidditch very seriously tbh. so many people have told him he needs to be a pro like his dad, but he’s like haha fuck you i know what i wanna do ( hint hint: he wants to rule that goddamn auror office, make that shit far more efficient then he thinks it is now ). but srsly, he’s so intense abt the game and it really like… idk gets him in the zone, keeps him level-headed in amongst all this chaos.

he’s smart. i guess. straight a’s and shit idk. just very naturally intelligent, finds everything he does easy, like.. really is that asshole who is just good at everything he does.

#incantareintro #| ❛ the shackles of a martyr. ❜ ( character study. )#enjoy this rambly mess of a recycled intro that most of yall have read before fsjaklg

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stagjmes · 5 years

Text

❛ if there’s one thing the gods love, it’s tragedy. with wings that burn and boys that fall. ❜

—wait a second, is that HIM, the PUREBLOOD sorted into GRYFFINDOR house? their name is JAMES POTTER but they share a startling likeness with AUBREY JOSEPH. in their SEVENTH YEAR, they’re known as the SHEPHERD, probably because they are CHARMING but DEPENDENT. i wonder what side they’ll end up on at the end.

james henry potter ( named for two his two grandfathers, maternal and paternal respectively ) was born on april 4th, 1960 to two of the most loving parents a child could have.

obviously, james had a pretty cushy childhood, and as such, shit didn’t start getting real until he started at hogwarts.

really did not help his ego that everyone did

shit was not good, though. definitely was not.

becoming animagi!!!!

it took fucking forever, obviously, but by the end of fourth year they did it!! we stan icons

except then in fifth year shit hit the fan again in just, like… so many ways

oh and then there was that whole thing with sirius and snape and Remus the Werewolf and ohhhh boyyyy…. that infuriated him.

he loves his bros so much and y’all know he would die for them, but to see his friend abuse remus’ pain and suffering for his own gain was heart wrenching. it just pushed him further to pull him in line, to realise that not everything was about games, or petty rivalry, or ‘ getting the girl ’ — life heartache and mistakes and it was never going to go the way he wanted it to.

now look, this isn’t all to say that james is now a Super Strict, Super Intense, Brooding Weirdo. he’s still a bit of a child, and he’s still a bit of an arrogant prick, but ultimately what wins out is his morals — every time. he wants to lead the world to a better place, without war and without hate, he wants everyone to have the same opportunities he had as a kid and he wants nothing more than for blood purity to be eradicated.

get that shit outta my house!!! gross!!!!!!

I hate him

he’s a lot less intense with his hatred for slytherin’s. he has come to recognise that not everyone from that lifestyle is going to be the same, not everyone who grew up a certain way or was sorted into a certain house is going to think with a deadly mind, and while he’s still a bit wary, he’s a lot more relaxed about it, especially as head boy ( gotta at least pretend shit’s fair !!! )

ok i’m so tired this is abt to turn into a rambling mess

uHhhHHh he’s very dependent as in like… boi cannot go a week without his friends. he is used to having people to bounce off, that’s always the type of leader he has been, and as much as he would probably be amazing at anything on his own, he’s never really tried. too scared!! i hate him!!!!!

i don’t know what im saying anymore pls send help

uhhhhh he’s smart. i guess. straight a’s and shit idk. just very naturally intelligent, finds everything he does easy, like.. really is that asshole who is just good at everything he does.

i’ve run out of things to say, pls just love him

#incendiointro #| ❛ the shackles of a martyr. ❜ ( character study. )#sorry for this absolute trash bag of a recycled intro

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kirain · 6 years

Note

More kids movies! More kids movies! These are my childhood!!!!

How about a top ten list of animated non-Disney films, since I tend to enjoy them more?

1. The Iron Giant

This was one of my favourite movies as a kid, and nothing about it is dated. No matter how advanced we get in animation and story-telling, I can’t imagine The Iron Giant ever losing its relevancy. The story follows a young boy named Hogarth, who lives with his single mother in 1957 America during the height of the Cold War. As Hogarth is a bit of a nerd and “poindexter”, he’s often bullied at school and doesn’t have any friends. That is, not until a giant robot seemingly falls out of space. Hogarth becomes its first human contact and comes to rely on him in order to survive. While Hogarth works to keep the giant’s existence a secret from the government, their bond strengthens as they experience life through childish innocence.

2. The Secret of NIMH

I think I mentioned before that I don’t like movies with anthropomorphic animals, but there are always exceptions. NIMH is one of those exceptions, and is in fact one of my favourite children’s movies/books ever made. The story follows a common field mouse named Mrs. Brisby, who’s only goal is to protect her beloved children. As she lives on a farm, she must soon move her children to avoid plowing season; however, her youngest son becomes bedridden with pneumonia. Her family friend and doctor, Mr. Ages, tells her that her son must stay inside or risk death– but if she can’t move they will all be in danger. As such, Mr. Ages tells her to seek out the rats of NIMH, a pack of escaped genetically mutated lab rats who live in a nearby rosebush. He explains that with their heightened intelligence, they might be able to devise a way to move her whole house, and that since her late husband Johnathan was one of them, they’ll likely feel obligated. When she seeks them out, however, she stumbles onto a mess of conspiracies, power struggles, and murder most foul.

3. The Pagemaster

Definitely dated and not the nicest animation, but an amazing children’s story nonetheless. The Pagemaster is a movie about a young boy named Richard Tyler who lives his life based on statistics and fears literally everything. One night, during a thunderstorm, he wanders into a huge library where he meets a strange librarian. While the man tries to figure out what kind of books Richard likes, all Richard can think about is getting home. When the librarian fails to trigger Richard’s basically nonexistent imagination, he sends the boy on a wild goose-chase through the massive bookshelves to find a phone so he can call his parents. While searching, he slips and hits his head, then wakes up in the form of an illustration. In this new world, he befriends three living books, Horror, Adventure, and Fantasy, whom he works with to face several trials before he can return home. The overall message of this movie teaches children to face their fears, believe in themselves, and enjoy their childhood while they have it.

4. The Road to El Dorado

My favourite unlikely tale of two Spaniards who set out to find the lost city of El Dorado. One craves adventure, the other craves gold. This fun little travel-comedy shows children the consequences of lying and greed. When Miguel and Tulio manage to traverse a dangerous jungle and find the great City of Gold, they pose as Gods to trick the natives into forgiving their trespass. Spoiled, pampered, worshipped, all seems to be going well for our “heroes”, until a real threat emerges and they struggle to save face. How long until their farce is discovered, and how many people will they hurt along the way?

5. Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron

Essentially, Spirit is a movie about severe animal cruelty and how horses were treated during the construction of the railroad in the middle of the grisly Indian Wars. A nameless horse, dubbed “Spirit” by a Lakota boy, is captured by some American wranglers in an attempt to be domesticated. Strong-willed and stubborn, Spirit does whatever he can to defy his captors, eventually escaping with the help of the aforementioned Lakota boy, Little Creek. His newfound freedom is short-lived, however, because the boy’s tribesmen appear, tie him up, and take him to their camp. There he meets a beautiful mare named Rain, who attempts to show him how well animals are treated among the natives. Despite the softer and kinder approaches, however, Spirit refuses to be ridden and only longs for his freedom. It just goes to show that no matter how tame a creature may become, it deserves to run wild.

6. Little Nemo: Adventures in Slumberland

Looking back on this movie, I admit that the plot is somewhat messy, but it’s still a solid children’s movie that’s sure to bolster their imagination. Little Nemo is a story about a young boy who experiences bizarre dreams. It’s never known why, until one night he’s taken to a magical kingdom called Slumber Land. It’s here that he meets King Morpheus and Princess Camille, who tell him that he is ordained to become the new prince. Without much explanation, Nemo is entrusted with a key that keeps the evil Lord of Nightmares sealed behind a giant, mystical door and told to protect it. Unfortunately, a local troublemaker named Flip convinces Nemo to open the door, and the nightmares spill out, shrouding Slumber Land in darkness. Determined to fix his mistake, Nemo and friends set out to Nightmare Land to find the evil king and put a stop to him forever. The animation, colours, music, and visuals make this movie quite compelling, and I’d recommend watching it at least once.

7. Balto

Balto is a wonderful tale based on a true story. Balto is a shunned half-breed from the small Alaskan town of Nome, where no one (man or dog) is willing to trust him because they believe his wolf blood makes him dangerous. One day, however, a little girl named Rosie shows him kindness when he prevents her new hat from being squished during a sled race. He leaps in the way and grabs it just in time. In thanks, Rosie pets him, compliments him, and lets him pull her sled– until her father kicks him away. Sadly, a few days later, Rosie is hospitalised with diphtheria, a horrible disease that killed many children in the winter of 1925. Due to severe whirling snowstorms, the train carrying the antitoxin to save Rosie, and countless other children, is halted. It cannot be transported by air or vehicle either. As such, the people of Nome devise a race to find the fastest dogs, which will join the sled team that will risk everything to retrieve the medicine on foot. Balto wins, but is once again shunned when the musher realises he’s part wolf. Balto is left behind, but soon gets word that the sled team fell off the grid, taking the serum with them. Determined to save Rosie and the other innocent children, Balto sets out to find the team and bring them home. Naturally, this movie is about prejudice, and not judging people based on their heritage.

8. FernGully: The Last Rainforest

Definitely one for the environmentalists, FernGully is a movie about a young fairy name Crysta who lives in a stunning rain forest that’s been untouched by man for centuries. Naive and curious about humans, Crysta flies off and encounters a vile construction zone where a young city boy named Zak is cutting down trees. When he sees her, he attempts to catch her, thinking she’s some bizarre bug he’s never seen, but in doing so gets distracted. A large tree begins to fall, and in order to save him from getting crushed, Crysta shrinks him down to her size and flies him out of the way. Soon, Zak gets pulled into her world, where he learns the value of nature– but by the time he figures it out it’s too late. His employers cut down a sacred tree and release Hexxus, a man-made embodiment of pollution whom the fairies locked away centuries ago. In order to save the forest, Crysta and Zak must work together to stop Hexxus and the lumberjacks before there’s nothing left.

9. A Troll In Central Park

A Troll in Central Park is one of those rare gems that few people seem to have heard of, but it’s a fantastic children’s movie nonetheless. The story focuses on Stanley, a troll with a green thumb who’s been driven underground because humans have ruined the surface with buildings and bridges and roads. Fearful of humans, he tries to avoid them at all costs, until one day an infant named Rosie falls into his hidey-hole. Desperate to stop her crying, he shares his magic and begins to sprout colourful plants left and right. Just when Stanley begins to think he may have judged humans too harshly, Rosie’s older brother Gus tracks them down and begins to destroy the place. Seeing how angry Gus is at his parents (who are often away at work), Stanley instead decides to teach Gus the importance of happiness, forgiveness, and beauty. The story does take a very dark turn, hoever, when Gnorga, Queen of the Trolls, attempts to kill Stanley, as she believes trolls are meant to be crude and callous. I don’t want to spoil too much, but I honestly can’t do this movie justice. I highly recommended it to anyone and especially to anyone with children. They’ll love it.

10. We’re Back! A Dinosaur’s Story

This movie is weird. Even when I was a child I thought it was weird, and as an adult … I still can’t come up with a better word to describe it. It’s a weird blend of magic and science, past and future, dinosaurs and humans. It’s just weird. But it was also one of my favourite movies as a kid, and one that I watched over and over with no regrets. The plot follows a group of four dinosaurs who are brought back from the past by a crazy scientist who invented time travel. With a special cereal, he domesticates these otherwise murderous giants and gives them human-like features. When he releases them into the streets of New York, they quickly become the talk of the town, and befriend a lonely young urchin boy named Louie and a neglected rich girl named Cecilia. Joy abounds, until the children run into a creepy old man named Professor Screweyes, who seeks to revert the dinosaurs back to their prehistoric form and use them to terrify others. To be completely honest, there could be countless meanings to this movie, or really none at all. Either way, it’s a movie I highly recommend to anyone who might be looking for a little something extra in their kid’s movies. After all, it’s really weird.

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ofprcngs · 6 years

Text

BRANDON ARREAGA — Well, if it isn’t JAMES POTTER, the GRYFFINDOR superstar. For those of you who don’t know HIM, you can spot them sitting with the other SEVENTH years. Most people think that they’re CHARMING and INCISIVE, but they can also seem pretty DEPENDENT and INEXORABLE. Sometimes people call them the SHEPHERD. Sure, they’re a PUREBLOOD, but that doesn’t define them.

i literally have 0 explanation for why i did this other than i’m in love with him. but also, he’s a mess, so jot that down. if you wanna know more about him ( protip: don’t ) then i recommend checking out his pinterest and then i dunno.... contemplate why i’m a punk ass bitch, i guess. enjoy this mess. plot with me. ily.

james henry potter ( named for two his two grandfathers, maternal and paternal respectively ) was born on april 4th, 1960 to two of the most loving parents a child could have.

obviously, james had a pretty cushy childhood, and as such, shit didn’t start getting real until he started at hogwarts.

really did not help his ego to know that everyone did.

shit was not good, though. definitely was not.

becoming animagi!!!!!!

it took fucking forever, obviously, but by the end of fourth year they did it!! we stan icons

except then in fifth year shit hit the fan again in just, like... so many ways

oh and then there was that whole thing with sirius and snape and Remus the Werewolf and ohhhh boyyyy.... that infuriated him.

he loves his bros so much and y’all know he would die for them, but to see his friend abuse remus’ pain and suffering for his own gain was heart wrenching. it just pushed him further to pull him in line, to realise that not everything was about games, or petty rivalry, or ‘ getting the girl ’ --- life heartache and mistakes and it was never going to go the way he wanted it to.

now look, this isn’t all to say that james is now a Super Strict, Super Intense, Brooding Weirdo. he’s still a bit of a child, and he’s still a bit of an arrogant prick, but ultimately what wins out is his morals --- every time. he wants to lead the world to a better place, without war and without hate, he wants everyone to have the same opportunities he had as a kid and he wants nothing more than for blood purity to be eradicated.

get that shit outta my house!!! gross!!!!!!

now in his final year, james is always flipping between taking his role as head boy deadly serious and turning it into one big game of mischief. he’s still a marauder at heart, after all, and has definitely abused his power sometimes for the benefit of fun and games, but when it comes down to it, he can be very strict and lowkey paternal. the leader really just.... popped right outta him, it came to play and it came hard, and really you’d think he’s minister for magic with how serious he treats it sometimes.

i hate him.

ok i’m so tired this is abt to turn into a rambling mess

uHhhHHh he’s very dependent as in like... boi cannot go a week without his friends. he is used to having people to bounce off, that’s always the type of leader he has been, and as much as he would probably be amazing at anything on his own, he’s never really tried. too scared!! i hate him!!!!!

super unforgiving. like, if you have gotten on his bad side.... i’m sorry. it is going to be very difficult to return from there. his moral compass is pretty black and white, you’re either good or your bad, and if you’ve done something he considers bad wELL sucks to be you, i guess. sorry not sorry.

takes his quidditch very seriously tbh. so many people have told him he needs to be a pro like his dad, but he’s like haha fuck you i know what i wanna do ( hint hint: he wants to rule that goddamn auror office, make that shit far more efficient then he thinks it is now ). but srsly, he’s so intense abt the game and it really like... idk gets him in the zone, keeps him level-headed in amongst all this chaos.

i don’t know what im saying anymore pls send help

uhhhhh he’s smart. i guess. straight a’s and shit idk. just very naturally intelligent, finds everything he does easy, like.. really is that asshole who is just good at everything he does.

i’ve run out of things to say, pls just love him

WANTED CONNECTIONS

girlfriend: i hate to expose myself as a whole ass jily stan but... here i am i guess. but also, listen: he really thinks he’s over her right now. like, he truly believes his days of pestering lily evans are behind him. it was just a crush! it’s gone! ( spoiler alert: it’s not ) BUT he is so convinced that he has got himself into this relationship which is really just... a mess. like highkey it’s obvious he could never fully love her bc his Heart Belongs to Lily or whatever but he does care for her deeply and has tricked himself into believing it’s love. it’s hard, man. he’s confused. send help.

ex-girlfriend(s): more of above but like... less intense? or more intense! who knows, frankly.

childhood friend(s): i’d die for childhood friends. jake/gina dynamic? iconic. just anything, really.

odd friend: ok like... as i mentioned, he’s still kinda wary of slytherins and ppl who grew up in purist culture, but i would love love love to see someone who was one of the first to show him that not all those people are so bad. like someone from a purist family or the like who was just chill and friendly and actually befriended this asshole even when he was... well, an asshole. it’d be fun, ig. also if they eventually do end up recruited for the de’s bc of family stuff or whatever... bonus points.

rivals: i’m tired. you understand.

#novum:intro #you guys this is... such a mess #im gunna regret posting this in the morning #oh well!!#here we are ig!!!!!!

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druidcore · 6 years

Note

nsfw alphabet and split it up between all of our muses because... stealing your words... IDC DO IT DANI

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Tessa I can imagine being super snuggly after sex. Running her finger down Ford’s chest, sighing contentedly like a happy little kitten. She stretches out, burrows down into the bed and will stroke Ford all over. Her hands will grip his biceps and rub all the way down to his hands and up again, while she hums.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

April’s favorite body part for herself is actually her stomach. She’s spent hours before in front of her mirror running her hands over her taut skin, admiring the way her ribs don’t protrude, but expand like wings wrapped around her heart. She deeply romanticizes forgotten ares of her body showing them the love that the rest of her body gets without prompting, but her stomach is her favorite one. She intends to preserve it forever.

On Dominic, her favorite body part is his back. It’s corded with muscle speaking of years and years of dedicated work and labor. She daydreams daily of kissing him there, an inch above his jeans all the way to the nape of his neck. Her fingers itch to knead into his skin, working out all the tension and stress knotted there. His back is magnificent.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

One of Rhiannon’s dirtiest fantasies is to have not one –– but multiple people cum on her face. There’s something to the act, a little degrading and a little rewarding which pleases her. To be an object of desire that not just one but two (or even three) guys are obsessed with is something that has always fascinated her. She’s never admitted it to anyone though, out of partial shame and fear that she’ll be ridiculed or slut-shamed for it. Opinions on the matter tend to vary, and if she’d ever do it, she’d want to do it with people that wouldn’t make her feel dirty (in a bad way) for it.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Penelope once masturbated in the Quidditch stands. She was one of the only people there –– it was a cold day out –– and the Slytherin team was likely practicing and she was trying to study, but the more she watched them practice, the more she got the urge to do something a little… dirty. And before she knew it, her fingers were her down her skirt, behind her books. She came once and instantly stopped. The whole experience was incredible, but extremely nerve-wracking and she never did anything of the like again.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Safe to say Mandy’s got little to no experience. The first boyfriend she had tried to pressure her into sex and she didn’t want to and ended up running out of his house. The most they did was over the top petting and he made her stroke him and she hated it because he kept pointing out everything she was doing wrong, and it was all just too much too fast. And then her next boyfriend was a kid from her mom’s Church, and she set them up, and when Mandy was making out with him and actually wanted to jerk him off, he shamed her and made her feel dirty. Her relationships since have been with guys who make out with her and bring her to family events and stuff, but she always gets cheated on with other girls “willing to put out”. Because she’s from a small town there’s word around that she’s a goody goody among the school kids and then that she’s promiscuous among the church kids. Either way, no one is giving her any, so she hasn’t had chances to explore what she likes or not.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Ronan’s favorite position is actually simple missionary –– he likes to see a woman’s pleasure on her face as he’s, ahem, giving it to her. And honestly, what woman would protest that? Having him above with a hand braced on the wall, driving into her? It’s been nothing than successful so far.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Zahra is definitely kinda goofy. She likes to make her partners feel comfortable and will probably like laugh and smile a lot during sex, which sometimes intimidated some of her ex boyfriends because they weren’t secure in their confidence as a result of hers. She likes having fun, wild sex and trying new things and sometimes kind of embarrassing incidents occur and sometimes you just have to laugh them off and she’s great at that.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Before the whole apocalypse started, Willa occasionally shaved down there when she had to –– for bikini season and for swimming classes. But after, obviously things sort of took a turn. Razors weren’t really one of the most important things to stock-pile or focus on, so that… kind of took a backseat to bigger and more important things. Still, when her and JP started sleeping together, she put an effort into finding a pair of scissors at at least trimming a little when things got too wild. She’s not too bothered about the situation down there though, she’s never been too hairy, and honestly if he can’t deal with her body hair during the zombie apocalypse, there’s no way they’re ever going to make it out of it.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Nesrin has a hard time being intimate, if she thinks about it. Her favorite sex positions are reverse cow-girl and doggy, just because that level of eye contact and kissing during sex are so... intense and she never knows how to handle it. She’s never really had sex with someone she was in love with, and whether she knows it or not, it’s like she’s subconsciously waiting to be fully intimate (and romantic) with someone she does genuinely have feelings for. Malcolm, probably, would be the first. Uh oh.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Fallon can never get herself off. It’s just one of those things where it’s unsatisfying and she’s always left more frustrated after than before. She can’t manage to get out of her head –– she needs to be firmly planted in the moment to really get off. Her inability to do so leaves her feeling discontent and insecure. She’s tried –– believe her, but at a certain point she sort of just gave up and hasn’t bothered to keep trying. Now she only orgasms when someone (Graham) gives her one.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Mera’s definitely got a huge daddy kink and is always interested in a lg/dd type relationship. She wants to be pampered in every aspect of life and being “daddy’s little princess” is something that highly appeals to her. Her dating history has always landed her with attractive but trifling and broke men and so she needs someone sturdy and reliable, but still a little wild and sexy (and preferably rich lmao) to lay it down good, and spoil her with goodies and love and lots of sex.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Dana’s favorite places to “do the do” are pretty wild, as compared to the usual bed, bathroom, etc. She likes doing it in wide open spaces. Her biggest fantasy is to do it in big palace courtyard or something of the sort. Other places that rank up there are rooftops (element of danger there, obviously) and her high-school basketball court (the acoustics in that thing are phenomenal okay??).

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

There’s just something about sexting in plain view which gets Lauren wet like no other. When her and Josh are on opposite ends of the counter, looking so innocent as they wait for new customers in silence, but being so absolutely filthy in reality, she sometimes feels like she could hop onto the counter and ask him to have sex right there and then.

And the way his arms flex whenever he does anything flexible is also an incredible turn on. He’s got strong arms, and large palms. She finds herself daydreaming about their imprint on her ass more often than not.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Taylor’s absolute biggest no-no is anything to do with bodily fluids separate from cum. No golden showers, none of that. Despite being pretty nasty in bed, this is the one thing she’ll be super judgemental about and easily disgusted by, not only because personal hygiene is important to her, but because she also thinks it spawns terrible expectations and ideas in people’s minds.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Wes likes to receive more –– but that’s just because he’s so used to giving in all other aspects of his life, that getting feels like a huge gift to him? I feel like he really savors and appreciates every single blowjob he ever gets. As for his own skill in giving, his first girlfriend was older than him and boy did teach him him well.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Cassia is as #romantic #aesthetic sex as it gets. I’m talking like, candles and having slow sex in the moonlight. It’s hips writhing like the slow roll of the ocean waves and the drawn-out rise and plunge of herself on his length. It’s the complete opposite of frenzied. It’s intense, and yes, incredibly sensual. It’s a stimulation all over the body, everywhere they touch.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

It depends on the person she’s with, when it comes to Aislinn. She’s come to hate them with her boyfriend, because it feels impersonal and almost disrespectful, but she has a feeling that might not be the case with Jax, because he actually pays her pleasure attention.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Parker’s kind of wild tbh. He’s experimented a lot. He love love loves rectal stimulation and is always down to try new things, including but not limited to: threesomes, sex parties, sex swings, swinging… Anything along those lines he’s always ready to try at least once. His mantra happens to be: try it once, and if you don’t like it try it again just to make sure.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Justine is kind of-kind of not a virgin. There’s never been time to lose her virginity to someone, as in have sex, but she has broken her hymen before using –– yes, you guessed it –– a hairbrush. It hurt a lot and she had to weather it herself, but it hasn’t scared her off sex. She just hasn’t had time to have a boyfriend or anything, but she’s eager to actually have sex for the first time, especially since she won’t have to deal with the pesky issue of losing her virginity to someone who’ll blunder through it. She wants someone experienced who will take care of her right. But again, where even is the time?

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Tessa has tons, tons, tons of toys. In her line of work she prided herself on not having to sleep with anyone, but since a) not many of her past boyfriends had ever been adept at finding her G spot (or her clit) and b) she’s sometimes had to go through long dry spells without sex, she’s built up quite a nice little collection of toys. She tends to prefer dildos to vibrators because most brands tickle her too much, even though dildos are more work. Her favorite one is a waterproof clear silicone one that she saves just for when she wants to take a bath or shower –– which is, for some reason, her favorite place to masturbate. Something about the steam and the atmosphere.

She’s proud of her toys, and even when she’s in a relationship with Ford, she won’t throw them away. They’re her babies –– in fact, she might even have names for some of them.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Tessa is not a tease. Not at all. She has very little patience when it comes to someone she actually likes. If she wants him, she’ll make it obvious and she’ll go for it. And as for being teased, she has a love/hate relationship with it because on one hand she’s getting the attention she wants, but on the other hand, god damn it, its not enough –– she wants more.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Taylor is, of course, loud. Not only is she loud, she’s vocal about everything she’s feeling too. She grunts when Tyler bottoms out, she swears when she’s close to the edge, and during particularly exhaustive romps where they’ve fucked more than once in one night, his name tends to blur into other words. And she’s always been this way –– uninhibited. She’s the roommate you never want to have because sometimes not even wearing headphones is enough to block her out. If you’ll recall, she’s got the lungs of a future broadway star. Her voice can pitch super high –– the shitty university dorm walls never stood a chance.

BONUS: Tessa gets… very complimenting in bed. Ford can expect a lot of “oh god, I love your cock! don’t stop!” during and after. She’s also opinionated and will easily give directions like, “go faster!” “harder!” etc. until it’s perfect and by then she can hardly speak, save for the gibberish that’s coming out of her mouth.

EXTRA BONUS: Fallon is quiet. She’s not a screamer, she’s not loud, but in contrast it’s intense and earth-shattering the way she comes. Her breathing deepens and stills and she makes these short keening gasps the closer she gets to orgasm. She’ll try to moan Graham’s name, but the sheer pleasure makes it impossible for her to get past the first three letters before her eyes are rolling to the back of her head and she’s coming for him.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

It had to happen. It’s not that she’s got a dirty mind (alright, she sort of does) but they work at a bagel shop, for Christ’s sake. It’d be criminal of them to not take advantage of the fact. One day Lauren proposes to Josh that they make a bagel with a hole big enough to fit his dick through because… Well, why not? All the tools (pun intended) are at their disposal, and they’ve got the whole place to themselves after they lock up. Even if he doesn’t agree, it was worth a shot to ask, and to see the look on his face.

And if he does agree? Well, she loves Bagels, and she loves Josh’s dick so… Best of both worlds.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Yeah, Jasey definitely has a piercing down there. Her clit is pierced, something she got done when she was 18 and wanted to do something wild. Her and her best friend got it done together and cheered each other on. Jasey swore up a storm when it was done, because she’s incredibly sensitive down there. It also was a very hard healing process for her because it got infected once, but she took care of it afterwards and now it’s all good. She also happens to not shave or wax, but trips the pubes when they get too long. Her hair is light brown and slightly coarse, and grows slowly. She has to do maintenance maybe every three weeks.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Kaja’s sex drive has never been too high. She’s been called a prude many times simply because of it. Sex has just never been one of her primary, or even secondary interests. She’s also never met anyone where the connection between them has been electric. To be honest, her life has been pretty bland, as far as things go. She entirely expects for sex to be the same, even when others claim it’s this awesome, epic thing.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Nat never really falls asleep after sex. Due to always having to be on the run and on the move, there’s never anytime to sleep, and even if there was, she usually never trusts people enough to fall asleep next to them. However, down the line with Nik, I can imagine that show of like… vulnerability almost where she’d finally allow herself to nod off? I don’t know if she’d tell him the significance of it, though.

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zombievirusandpeanutbutter-blog · 7 years

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Growing Up

Allouette stayed perfectly still as her mother fawned over every last blonde curl. Her eyes were focused on the gilded edges of the full length mirror they stood before. She made a pointed study of the delicate engravings--flowers, vines, sparrows--a pointed study of everything except her reflection. She looked more beautiful than she ever had before. She didn't need to see it to know. Her mother had spent nearly two sun steps dressing her, delicately applying makeup, braiding ribbons and jewelry into her hair.

I'm a lamb being prepared for slaughter

Sucking in a deep breath she grasped the edges of her skirt tightly between her fingers. She turned her attention to the fine fabric. She had always had nice clothes, she came from a wealthy merchant family and had been especially pampered and spoiled growing up. Yet this dress was nicer still than anything she had worn before. This was a dress meant for nobility. A soft lilac and decorated with small stars and moons embroidered in gold. She wondered if the stars were meant to have meaning, a purpose, some statement to the world about who she was and who she would be. The only meaning she could discern was how small the stars looked in the sky. And how small that sky made her feel. She was insignificant, fleeting. That sky had watched over thousands of lives like hers. To the stars time meant nothing, it rushed by like a flood washing the world clean over and over.

It's funny. How quickly time passes. It seems to be standing still, but then you turn round and the future you never thought would arrive is suddenly upon you.

Gentle fingers took hold of Allouette's chin and she found her gaze redirected to her mother's eyes, green like her own. She immediately looked instead at her mother's mouth which smiled widely, proudly. In the turn of her mother's lips Allouette found happiness. In the crease of her mother's eyes there was only sadness.

"You're perfect."

Allouette smiled. Nodded. Said nothing. Her mother waited a moment, waited for her to reply. When Allouette said nothing her mother simply nodded.

"It's time. We should be going. Your father is waiting."

Gently taking Allouette's hand she led her from the room. As they passed through the door Allouette looked back over her shoulder, finally taking in her reflection. She really did look perfect.

I'll never look in that mirror again. I'll never stand in this room again.

At the bottom of the stairs waited her father. Tall, well dressed, handsome. It was easy to see how her mother had fallen for him. Next to him stood her eldest brother, a dashing youthful copy of her father, as though time had folded in on itself so that youth and adult stood side by side. Delicately wrapped around one arm was her sister. They shared the same blonde hair and green eyes and if Allouette grew up to be even a fraction as beautiful she would count herself beyond lucky.

As they reached the bottom of the stairs her brother and sister embraced her one by one. Hugging her firmly but silently. Allouette was thankful for the silence. It strengthened her. If someone were to speak, to voice what they all felt...

Allouette's mother was next to take her in her arms and she held her, frozen so long Allouette wondered if she'd ever let go. Then, in one swift movement she let go and retreated up the stairs without looking back. Allouette's brother and sister gave her one last look, then they too took silently to the stairs. Allouette watched until they had disappeared from sight.

A hand gently took her own.

Turning her head away from the stairs Allouette looked at her brother. They were twins, but no one would ever guess it. Though they had the same curls he had inherited their father's dark hair and eyes. He stared at her now with those eyes and she felt the wall of ice she'd wrapped herself in begin to melt.

"Oh Ahlan, we were never meant to be twins."

He took her in his arms then, hugged her tightly, fiercely.

"I'm so sorry."

He was crying, she could hear it in his voice and feel the wet warmth of his tears on her neck.

I mustn't cry. I'll ruin my makeup.

Softly Allouette extricated herself from his arms and took her father's arm.

"Good bye Ahlan."

And with that she followed her father out of the house she would never again see, away from the family she was no longer a part of. As he loaded Allouette into the carriage he had rented to carry her to her destiny she suddenly spun round and grasped his hands desperately in hers.

"Dad--Daddy, I'm not ready."

He was silent for a long time, looking at her hands and his rather than her face.

"No," he said finally, "I suppose you're not." He looked now over her head, at the flashy houses across the cobbled street. Houses trying too hard to show off their wealthy owners.

"Garland, the jeweler...his boy...they've been training him since he could stand. Preparing him. We could have...We didn't know what was best. We didn't want your whole life to be focused on this future. We wanted you to have a chance to live a different life than the one you were born for...We just wanted you to be happy."

I was never happy.

The thought echoed through her head as the carriage sped her through the streets. Out of the extravagant merchant district, through the plain business district, and on and on towards the heart of the city.

I was never happy.

Yet was that true? Her family had loved her, had given her everything she could want or need. Their neighbors and friends had always been kind. She had never been given cause to be sad.

Still.

Even as she was shown every kindness she could always see the shadow in their eyes, the pity.

No she was never happy, but she was never sad either. She was numb. She had always been numb. And today especially--She barely registered when the carriage stopped as she retreated farther and farther into her own thoughts. So far that when a loud voice finally broke her reverie she found she could not remember walking into the large courtyard where she now stood, could not remember assembling with this large crowd of children. Children all her own age. Children from all walks of life, nobility, merchant, poor, orphans, farmers. Allouette looked round, taking them all in for what felt like the first time. Many were dressed in what were clearly their best clothes just as she was. Not far from her a tall boy stood dressed in a tunic so fine it made her dress look like rags. And beside her another boy, small, thin, his clothes clean but threadbare and ill-fit.

The Cull takes from everyone.

"--And so I greet you all on this proud day. The day when your lives truly start!"

Allouette finally turned her attention forward, to the well dressed man who stood upon an austere balcony.

"We will not pretend it is not a sad day. For you have been brought here, asked--no, demanded to give up all you have known. Yet it is also a happy day, for you are being given an opportunity to become something greater! When our forefathers first addressed the eternal problem of our city, that our finite space would not always be able to support our infinitely expanding population they could have chosen unspeakable methods to resolve this issue. Instead however they established the Academy and decreed that every family to bear more than three children would send the younger children to be trained to be a part of our glorious military when they reached their thirteen spring. There is no greater glory than serving and protecting our great city and of course there are many earthly rewards as well. The city guard transcends all petty social barriers. For the less fortunate this is your chance to become something greater, to attain a better life than you could have ever eked out in the mud alleys. For the fortunate this is your chance to bring yourself and your family great honor worth more than any riches--"

"He's not going to say it, is he?"

Allouette started. It was the small boy--could he really be thirteen?

He doesn't need to say it.

"Say what?"

"What happens when we graduate," his eyes looked full, as though he might burst into tears at any moment. "That only the best of the best join the City Guard. That the rest of us will be sent outside the walls on a 'glorious mission to reclaim the world'. They'll send us out there to kill those things...but we won't--we can't--we'll d--" His voice cracked and he dropped his head suddenly, his brown hair falling over his eyes.

Allouette bit her lip as she considered the boy. "You sound as though you've already given up. You could make it you know. You could be one of the best."

The boy looked up again, glaring at her through his tears. "No. I won't. No matter how hard I try I won't be strong enough. What about you, do you think you'll be one of the best?"

Looking down at her hands, soft, pale hands, Allouette considered his question. She had never really thought about it before, even though the possibility had existed since she was born. She bit her lip again, hard, so hard she could taste blood. She'd never thought about it before because she hadn't wanted to face the answer.

"No. I won't be."

#creative writing #I write trash #creative writing garbage #fantasy #writing #prose #writers of tumblr #spilled ink

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theconservativebrief · 6 years

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Just when you thought it was safe to relax, for no further new TV shows were coming to humbly request your eyeballs, The CW decided to start premiering most of its shows this week.

The tiny network — home to some of TV’s best shows, like Jane the Virgin and Crazy Ex-Girlfriend — traditionally waits for October to debut its series, where they can premiere slightly outside of the biggest crush of fall TV season. But with the network expanding to Sunday nights for the first time this fall, it’s got more new series to flaunt than usual, to say nothing of all of its returning shows.

Thus, this week, we offer thoughts on The CW’s new high school drama All American, as well as its reboot of the venerable witch show Charmed. Finally, we have thoughts on HBO’s new series from Girls producers Lena Dunham and Jenni Konner, Camping, which also marks Jennifer Garner’s return to TV.

Few of these shows are great, and as critics, we often have limited information on whether they’ll get better. (It’s rare to impossible for broadcast networks, especially, to send out many episodes for review beyond the first couple.) But there’s something in all of these shows worth checking out, especially if you’re a particular fan of their genres.

(A note: We’ve only given ratings to shows where we feel we’ve seen enough episodes to judge how successful they will be long-term.)

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Who doesn’t like a teen drama about a boy from an underprivileged background getting a hand up into the world of the rich and comfortable? It’s been the story of many, many teen soaps over the years, but perhaps most famously on The O.C., where Chino-born Ryan Atwood found himself suddenly living among the spoiled and pampered denizens of Orange County.

The CW’s new series All American takes that format and mixes it with Friday Night Lights for one of the strongest new dramas of the fall. It has its rough edges, but there’s something hard to beat about a good-hearted kid discovering the excesses of money and power, while those who have the money and power discover just how much they have in common with the new kid.

At the center of All American is Spencer (winning British newcomer Daniel Ezra), a football star at South LA’s public Crenshaw High. Spencer is black, and he comes from a majority-black neighborhood. (He’s also based on the real NFL player Spencer Paysinger.) When a coach for a Beverly Hills high school — played by Taye Diggs, who I never thought would make a great Coach Taylor but makes a great Coach Taylor — turns up to offer Spencer a chance at a role on a higher-profile team, Spencer worries about betraying his community before eventually realizing going to Beverly Hills could cement his future.

You can sort of see where this is going from there, but creator April Blair shows a refreshing willingness to keep the story moving throughout the first three episodes, unveiling a healthy dollop of plot twists and soapiness, while also giving her characters a whole lot of heart. Indeed, the twist at the end of the pilot takes the show from “pretty good” to “something I’ll give at least a season to figure itself out.”

There are issues here and there (the ensemble is perhaps a little too large for a show this young, and there’s way too much music to drive every emotional point home), but All American is an intriguing stew of teen soap tastes that taste great together. —Todd VanDerWerff

All American debuted Wednesday, October 10, on The CW and is available on the network’s website. Future episodes air Wednesdays at 9 pm on The CW.

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For whatever reason, The CW’s new spin on Charmed has been embroiled in controversy over its status as a reboot starring brand new actors, rather than a revival starring the show’s original cast. And, sure, the original series has die-hard fans, and in a climate where seemingly every other popular show from the ’90s is being revived just as it was back then, it’s not hard to imagine a world where that happened with Charmed, too.

But if those disgruntled Charmed fans tune in to the new version, they’re likely to find a show that, despite a pilot that’s a bit of a mess, has the right elements in place to become just as fun as that earlier series (if not more fun — that original show could be a bit of a mess itself). Most importantly, Jessica O’Toole, Amy Rardin, and Jennie Snyder Urman (of Jane the Virgin fame), who developed this new Charmed, have nailed the single most important element of the show: the casting.

To make a show about three sisters who are witches — and so much more powerful when together than when apart — you really need three actors who simultaneously exude raw supernatural power and a sisterhood that feels real, not assembled right before shooting the pilot. (Even if you know that’s what happened.) And Madeleine Mantock, Melonie Diaz, and Sarah Jeffery absolutely seem like sisters, with all the attendant benefits and baggage that relationship carries.

Plus, revamping this show to be about a Latina family offers a subtly powerful twist on the idea of those without traditional political power having untapped reserves of raw power. The pilot could do more with this idea (and the series hopefully will), but at least the sisters never feel like they’ve been made Latina to score empty diversity points.

The pilot gets stuck trying to do too much, establishing the sisters’ powers and setting up a longer mystery about an unsolved murder and offering up a #MeToo metaphor as its monster of the week. But with this cast (including a very game Rupert Friend as guardian angel Harry) and smart writers behind the scenes, Charmed will hopefully find itself very quickly. —TV

Charmed debuts Sunday, October 14, at 9 pm Eastern on The CW.

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Watching the four episodes of Camping that were sent out for review, I couldn’t help but think of another recent HBO series: Vice Principals. The shape of that series wasn’t immediately apparent in the first couple of episodes, and what it ended up being was vastly different from (and better than) what its beginning suggested. It rewarded the viewer for watching through to the end.

It seems as though Camping might fit a similar bill, though I would hesitate to presume that it’ll pull off the same gambit. Created by Lena Dunham and Jenni Konner, and adapted from the British series of the same name, Camping doesn’t really make any progress in the first half of its season.

The reasons to watch are apparent from the start: The cast is absolutely stacked, with Jennifer Garner simultaneously playing to type and against type as Kathryn, who works day in and day out to make her life as flawless and meticulously ordered as her Instagram account. David Tennant is perfectly cast as her husband, Walt; he’s as easygoing as Kathryn is wound-up, as embodied by his lankiness and penchant for bucket hats.

Filling out the rest of the group of friends (just imagine quotation marks around the word) out camping in celebration of Walt’s 45th birthday, there’s Ione Skye, Chris Sullivan, Janicza Bravo, Brett Gelman, Arturo Del Puerto, Juliette Lewis — there’s not a weak performance in the bunch.

Unfortunately, that’s not quite enough. By the season’s halfway point, Camping seems to be fixated on showcasing people behaving badly — whether on their own or due to outside influence — without necessarily having a larger point to make. It’s thin ice for any series to skate on, but even more so when a series asks its audience to invest in characters written to be annoying or self-involved. These people are poison to each other — why keep watching them?

A few moments shine — again, the cast is terrific, and manages to find bits of truthfulness in the way these characters tear at each other — but without a firm sense of plot or structure to keep it all together, the show falters. —Karen Han

Camping debuts Sunday, October 14, at 10 pm Eastern on HBO.

As mentioned, basically everything on The CW is back this week. (Some shows — notably Jane the Virgin — are being held for midseason, of course.) That includes the final season of Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (Friday at 8 pm), which kicks off with a bang, as Rebecca Bunch finds herself in prison. A happy ending to this saga might seem a stretch at this point, but we’d settle for a “mostly okay” ending, honestly.

If you love streaming shows, this is a hectic week, too. Netflix brings the terrific new cooking docu-series Salt Fat Acid Heat (Thursday), based on the book of the same name, and the superbly spooky Haunting of Hill House (Friday). Amazon, meanwhile, launches the first season of Mad Men creator Matt Weiner’s The Romanoffs (also Friday), while the new streaming service DC Universe unveils the gritty Teen Titans reboot Titans (whaddaya know, it’s debuting on Friday). We’ll have full reviews of some of these in the days to come.

If you’re a fan of podcast hosts, HBO launches its TV version of Pod Save America (Friday at 11 pm) and ABC launches The Alec Baldwin Show (Sunday at 10 pm), should you require a TV version of something originally designed to appeal to your earballs.

Finally, if you’re me (Todd), then the only thing you care about is adult swim’s Harvey Birdman: Attorney General (Monday at midnight), a brand new special reuniting the voice cast of the original Harvey Birdman: Attorney at Law, one of the great, silly spoofs of the 2000s. Sing it with me now! Whooooooo is the man in the suit? Whooooooo is the cat with the be-eak!

Original Source -> This week in TV: a teen drama to check out, a new spin on Charmed, and Jennifer Garner

via The Conservative Brief

#IFTTT #The Conservative Brief

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mybukz · 6 years

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Fiction: Alien Queen by Anonymous Bosh

Photo by Henry Hustava on Unsplash

Long long ago, long before human rights and democracy were ever invented, there was a country in a remote part of the Earth called Bubblechoose. Bubblechoose was a kingdom and the kings or Boobaars were all absolute monarchs wielding unlimited despotic power. However, of course, in practice despotic power has to be tempered by the will of those powerful people who support whichever dynasty happens to be in power at the time, and so it was in Bubblechoose. The Boobaar was ultimately chosen by the cerrys or landowners and traders who dominated the economic and military life of the country.

Bubblechoose was a roughly rectilinear agricultural and trading nation whose access to other nations was via the sea. The other three sides of its territory were enclosed by mountains and dense forest which could only be penetrated by skilled travelers who knew all the secret pathways and mountain passes. For the most part those were the crindbaar or “edge people”, who were generally distrusted by the inhabitants of plains and towns who thought themselves superior in every way. These were the choosbaar or “fine people”. Many crindbaar came down out of the jungles to seek work as servants or menial labourers. But sometimes when things got bad (generally when population exceeded a certain level or weather conditions were unfavourable) a leader emerged to incite the envy and allegiance of these ruffians and persuade them there was a real chance of their conquering the fertile areas next to the sea and becoming themselves rich and powerful landowners and traders. It was then that insurgency was followed by a most cruel retribution in the form of a general massacre; the crindbaar—those who survived—were once more cowed and kept for another generation to their jungle habitats.

The elite who controlled the kingdom, from which the king was chosen, when the hereditary principle was interrupted for whatever reason, were not by any means united. Different parties and factions of cerrys were set against one another, but if a strong king was able to neutralise and tame the opposition or cleverly play one group off against the other, or keep powerful individuals happy with gifts of land (seized, of course, from some other mutinous cerrys) he could bring stability to the kingdom and trade would flourish, making most people happy. Such a king was Fridlepidge I (who was nominated after a period of extreme chaos when the crindbaar almost took over the country). His son Fridlepidge II was neither so wise nor crafty, but pampered and spoiled by the sybaritic life he had been brought up in, and by the time his son Fridlepidge III ascended the throne, there were rumblings of discontent, intrigues among the cerrys who believed their pre-eminence was being threatened by the practice of the king in granting trading privileges to newcomers and interlopers—even foreigners and, worse still, ambitious crindbaar. These privileges were as jealously guarded as feudal rights over land, and to tamper with them was, to say the least, rash—possibly even foolhardy.

Fridlepidge III was married to queen Hankipong, a tall stately beauty, with long straight hair that shone like the sun on a bright dry day. He had seen her on the deck of a foreign trading ship and sent word to his officers that he wished to buy her. The alien traders asked for much diamonds and silver from the mines outside the capital Happenstipp, but Fridlepidge III overruled the owners of these mines and ordered this wealth to be delivered. Thus Hankipong became hated, as an alien, particularly after he elevated her to be queen. Those who had paid for the monarch’s spouse vowed to take revenge when the opportunity would arise, but kept their resentment secret as any overt displays of disagreement with the king usually resulted in extremely painful sanction, such as being torn to pieces by wild animals. Arrest would be followed by a trial, but the kingdom’s judges were the king’s specially appointed stewards who would never go against his will.

It was a normal part of the stately calendar of the kingdom that sentencing was carried out every Saturday afternoon in a large stone amphitheatre, about as big as a football pitch. For the inhabitants of the capital city who had a specially awarded status (which was hereditary), not to attend this function was itself a criminal offence (although, of course, it was possible to get out of being prosecuted for any offence if you had enough money to pay to the king, and if the king didn’t know about the offence, then the money would go to his officers). These weekly assemblies were called Hohokm, which meant a coming together. Men, women and children had to sit and witness the brutal slaying of those unfortunate to be of modest means and to be accused publicly or even privately of criticising the king or his policies. They had to bear the screams of agony as their limbs were torn off their bodies by four separate wild beasts, while the king himself beat his hands on his throne in joyful jubilation, sometimes even shouting the equivalent word to “bravo” or “super”.

It was conventional in Choosian culture to admire the king for this, and admiration led to imitation. No king could risk being thought of as yunkfok (translatable as “cowardly”, “improper” or “unmanly”) as he might lose the respect of his subjects and be quickly removed from his throne, suffering the same fate as his victims. Neither could any of his subjects seem to show a lack of enthusiasm for this entertainment because this could be interpreted (and almost always was) as an insult to the royal person. So when the poor unfortunate convict was in the process of being dismembered, the cheers thrown up by the almost manic audience were absolutely deafening. Women, knowing full well that their husbands, brothers, friends might betray them to ensure their own safety and reputation as brave, strong, upstanding citizens of Bubblechoose, screamed and cackled like succubi. Children, coached by their secretly fearful parents, joined in the applause, sometimes voicing suggestions such as “cut his head off, put a knife in his bum, cut off his….”

Only one person was always poker-faced and silent as she sat straight-backed on the throne beside her husband: Hankipong. Naturally, of course, this led to murmurs and then more open talk, as it seemed that the king was deaf to any criticism of her. This situation had gone on for many years, and in fact Hankipong had a child, also called Fridlepidge—Prince Fridlepidge. Now the boy Fridlepidge, although only four years old, was quite precocious and had developed a taste for others’ suffering, which his mother found alarming and even sickening. Nevertheless, she had to be careful of showing any disapproval of the practices of the Hohokm. At the same time she endeavoured to steer her child away from the tendencies manifest in his behaviour. So Hankipong had to tread a knife edge. Thus it was little wonder that her subtle attempts at reigning in her child’s sadistic tendencies did not meet with much success.

Every weekend this was perfectly evident: high on a fenced—for his protection and safety—pedestal in the royal enclosure, above and behind the king, sprawled languidly on cushions of red satin embroidered with golden silk brocade, the boy would gaze at the sadistic spectacle before him, a smile of ecstasy on his face, saliva dribbling from his overfull and flaccid lips (there had been whispers questioning his antecedence, that also subtly hinted that his mother had been in contact with a certain crindbaar), his eyes glazing over with pleasure and contentment. Seated next to her royal husband, Hankipong would, from time to time during the worst (or as her son would have put it—the best) moments of the “entertainment”, turn in disquiet to check his presence and demeanour, a baleful expression filling her eyes.

Hankipong was perfectly well aware of the danger she and the king were in. She tried to warn the elder Fridlepidge but he adopted an attitude of bravado, responding with remarks such as, “a King has to face peril, a King has to face treachery—but this King is strong and brave—he is not deflected by fear or cowardice. So let me hear no more talk of this.” In truth the King was besotted by his queen—they made love at least three times a week, and during this he would stroke her flaxen hair and kiss her all over her face, as he ejaculated, exclaiming in a loud and plangent voice how perfectly beautiful she was. Potential concubines, whores and courtesans were brusquely dismissed from his presence, the king expostulating that “they are worse than crindbaar”, “she stinks like a horse/wild boar” and such like.

Hankipong had no contact with her family or people in the far away country she came from. It took about a week in the craft of those times, which were wooden longships with fourteen oarholes (seven each side being a sacred number), to reach this far off land, but it was suspected, although both the King and Queen always denied it whenever they heard this rumour and the former had those who were assumed to have spread it committed to be dismembered, that she had secretly sent a messenger via a trading ship to appeal to those who ruled her native country to send a force as a protection against those who conspired to unseat them. Being a girl from a very lowly class, who had escaped the gallows for murdering her husband by throwing in her lot with some rough sailors, and allowing them and the captain to use her whenever they pleased in exchange for saving her life, she knew she was no Helen of Troy (not that she had ever heard of this illustrious figure from European classical history, since both her country and Bubblechoose were situated on the farther side of the planet) and that there was no chance of even one boat putting to sea to find or rescue her, let alone a whole fleet.

And yet one day in the midst of the dry season, a fleet suddenly appeared. Those with strong vision discerned the unmistakeable massing of dozens of boats on the distant horizon. This was an extraordinary shock to the people of Bubblechoose, as nothing like this had ever been related in the oral history of the country. Was it an hallucination? Was it an evil spell? The high priests of the Cruntle Puntle religion, which was the semi-official religion of the country—some kings encouraging it, others attempting to suppress it and consigning its officers and devotees to slaughter at the Hohokm—which only strengthened it as a faith—decreed multiple sacrifices. This meant that female crindbaar were caught and amidst ritual prayers, wailing chants and supplications laid on the altar, tied with chains and opened up with one knife being drawn down from the neck to the crutch. Hot oil was then poured into the wound and set alight so that flames leapt to the night sky, accompanied by repeated cries of holy verses.

However, the next morning at dawn the fleet of boats could steadily be seen drawing nearer and nearer to the shore. The king ordered the army and navy to be ready to do battle. Then he instructed one of his closest confidants to sail out to the fleet and ask them what they wanted. The enemy fleet was almost sixty in number. When this man whose name was Dribblepont reached the phalanx of the enemy, he saw that each ship was populated with warriors wearing armour plates on their shoulders and across their breasts. The armour shone in the sun with a strange “flat” gleam. They each had swords made of the same metal that was very dark, yet blazed with a kind of silvery sheen.

Dribblepont had already realised that only a display of magic would save the kingdom from conquest and dissolution. Donning a mask with a frightening aspect, with the help of his sailor-assistants he set fire to an enormous ladle made of gold and bronze alloy in which had been placed an inflammable preparation, which now crackled and sparkled and spewed out streaks of white, lacey threads several feet into the air, following a curved trajectory and finally falling into the sea. The warrior-rowers, who had been standing up in their craft ready for an assault on the smaller Choosian vessel, began to tremble, lose their balance and fall helplessly into the water, where they floundered and rapidly sank, due to the weight of the armour they were wearing.

This had a kind of domino-effect, as their compatriots, still seated in their lined up ships, became terrified and in a panic all tried to turn their vessels around, so that the ships collided with one another and causing some of them to capsize. Those ships that survived sped off towards the horizon, most of their occupants dying of thirst before they could reach a safe piece of shore to beach their craft. Some of the ships were dashed to pieces on the sharp and ragged rocks—some just below the surface of the water—that graced the front of the harbour of Happenstipp.

Later that day, the boobaar Fridlepidge III summoned the populace of the city to the amphitheatre to hold an enormous thanksgiving ceremony, as well as to honour the national hero Dribblepont. This time there would be no victims, no punishments, no acts of vengeance. However, as far as some others were concerned, the shock of this aborted invasion delivered a lesson of a different kind.

Now we have to explain that four-year old heir to the throne Fridlepidge had a sort of an “uncle”. This man was called Quogglescum, or to Fridlepidge—or Friddy as he was affectionately known—Uncle Quoggy. Quogglescum was a crindbaar—anyone could tell this from the very sloping forehead, pronounced eyebrow ridges and thick, pouting lips—but a very ambitious one, highly intelligent with a great deal of cunning. Somehow he had managed to make an exception of himself. With skillful charm and enormous ability he had wormed his way into the top echelons of Choosian society and from there into the royal precincts, so that now he was no less than private tutor to the young heir to the throne.

Quogglescum knew which side his bread was buttered, as it were. He knew he had to please the boy, indulge the twisted youngster’s worst excesses. While his father was pre-occupied with the affairs of state, and his mother out tending to her flowers and her pets in the palace grounds, “Mr Q” as some courtiers half-ironically referred to him used the time he was meant to be tutoring the child in maths, astrology and the Choosian language to indulge the boy’s fantasy of what he would do when once he became king in succession to his father. For this purpose first animals like cats and monkeys were used, and then actual female humans—unfortunate crindbaar of the lowest social scale—scullery maids and cleaners began to disappear, since after Fridlepidge junior’s practice—which might involve gauging out or burning the eyes or mutilating the sexual organs of his victims—they were always killed to prevent them divulging details about these sessions which took place in a deep dungeon in the bowels of the castle so that the hideous screams (which especially amused the young child) could not be heard by others. Even the King and Queen did not know about what was really going on.

What could be Quogglescum’s motives for such an atrocity? It would be hard to fathom the workings of a brutal mind. Was he just a sadistic psychopath, a complete barbarian devoid of culture. Actually the answer to this is that he was a highly intelligent and well educated person who very fond of painting and music and sculpture—the last named being an art form particularly valued in Bubblechoose. The amphitheatre where the Hokokm took place was adorned with all manner of figures and depictions of nature—animals, trees and of course the Sun, the Moon and heavenly bodies. It may have been that Quogglescum cultivated these shocking excesses in his charge, so that once he came to the throne his horrific behaviour would be so unpopular that his “Uncle” would be able to seize power for himself, presenting himself as a saviour from this by now loathsome dynasty. Or maybe he was really wanting to help Fridlepidge to survive in power and cultivating in him a capacity for cruelty would be an advantage in this respect.

Whatever the truth as to the origins of his conduct, although Quogglescum swore the prince to secrecy, it could not be kept from the more perspicacious courtiers and servants that something was definitely wrong with the child. He would, for example, if he didn’t get his way in every respect, with a most threatening and sinister demeanour, gaze at the person who was thwarting him, and say, in the upright, pompous manner of the child attempting to be adult, “You know I’m going to be Boobaar, and when that day comes I’m going to punish you for this”.

At this time, following the scare of the would-be invasion, all kind of rumours were curling about the palace like pungent, miasmic steam, suggestions of plots against the king (who was never ever mentioned in person, because to do that was a severe blasphemy) and rebel bands hiding out, ready to pounce at the first opportunity. As King Fridlepidge became more and more unwell, no doubt from the stress of these threats to his power, and his queen was pre-occupied with attending to him and the priests were conducting astrological rituals and sacrifices, Quogglescum effectively took over the organisation of the palace. More and more people strangely disappeared, and many cerrys became extremely concerned that another period of chaos was about to befall the country. Yet at the same time it was so necessary to maintain a united and orderly nation in case the invasion attempt should be repeated.

The artful Quogglescum who had already been made libanmuna (a sort of equivalent to chancellor or grand vizier), and was completely relied upon by the king himself, managed to quash the opposition amongst the cerrys. Every week he summoned a swotgidmore or grand meeting which it was compulsory to attend. At this meeting he and his close allies (who had already been promised rewards in lands and trading concessions) exhorted the assembled company to obey the king and his decrees (which were mostly promulgated by Quogglescum), vowing that should any moogubble (meaning a terrible disaster which was in its nature unthinkable—but understood to indicate the death of the monarch), he would ensure that there was continuity in the kingdom throughout the young prince’s rule.

Only Dribblepont and his friends were unmoved by these cantish, disingenuous speeches.

It was not that they gave the slightest hint of skepticism. That would have meant being torn to pieces. Just that at the end of the speeches, when all present were obliged to raise their arms straight up in the air and give a macabre guttural cry, they followed the others with this gesture but their voices were silent.

Their greatest asset was that to any cerrys the prospect of any crindbaar, however talented and suitable for the position becoming boobaar was utterly repugnant and unthinkable. Furthermore it was thought—or rather rumours and notions had been spread—that there was a connection between the Queen and the loathsome Quogglescum, and that the Queen more or less controlled the ailing King. Anyone who drew the logical conclusion to this, even if they were unenthusiastic about Dribblepont’s candidacy for the throne, were really essentially in the same camp as the hero. So that in the midst of the meeting the great bulk of the cerrys were favouring the drastic course, and had this tacit understanding. Each one only had to look once and fleetingly at his neighbour wearing the poker face that from an early age each had practised to a tee, for the two men to know that they were as one on this matter. But they were still in great danger. Because even though Quogglescum and his supporters were probably in a minority, it was a considerable body consisting not only of all those who had benefited from his patrimony, and who hoped to do so again in the future. The group was also augmented by those who were vulnerable to the disclosure of dishonourable and punishable facts about their activities—some had forged land documents, others murdered victims who stood in the way of an important inheritance. Some had even co-operated with Quogglescum in secretly arming and training of crindbaar who were standing by in hidden locations in case the power of the libanmuna was threatened.

Thus those in opposition to Quogglescum, who tended to look to Dribblepont, went away from the meeting in a downcast and foreboding mood. During the ensuing days there were meetings in the stately and sometimes elaborately carved houses the cerrys usually built for themselves—encounters that appeared to be quite jolly and innocent of any ulterior reason other than bonhommie and conviviality. Except that while normally this class drank a great deal of wine, especially when there were guests, at these encounters, those taking part limited themselves to one or two carved wooden goblets, for fear of indiscretion. Some of Quogglescum’s spies (most servants were choosbaar but quite often there were crindbaar among the more menial staff) who had either been bought, or had found positions among the cerrys households, noticed this departure from the norm, although they were unable to hear the occasional low-voiced communication.

At the next weekly swotgidmore a surprise awaited the apprehensive but by now impatient cerrys—impatient for this impending conflict to be resolved in the way such things were normally done in the land of Bubblechoose. To everyone’s astonishment (including even Quogglescum’s closest allies) he brought along Prince Fridlepidge. One particularly close confident, Aldlepunch, even spoke outloud—“why the child, Quogglescum?”, “Be quiet Aldlepunch, he’s the royal heir” And the prince gave him such a look of pity mixed with relish that he felt his blood run cold.

“The King,” announced Quogglescum, “is very seriously ill—he’s in extreme pain and can hardly speak”. The prince, who was standing upon a high plinth to make up for his diminutive stature, seemed to smile in an inscrutable childlike way.

“Can we meet the king?—” There were murmurs, the whole meeting of about six or seven hundred stirred, and the tension was irrepressible.

Ignoring this nebulously originating request, Quogglescum continued, “And so the time has come for us to formally transfer power to his rightful heir.”

The boy, who was dressed in the regal finery normally reserved for an investiture or coronation, silk brocade studded with jewels, edged and threaded with gold twist, a long silken gown of blue and silver falling in deep and ample folds from his immature shoulders, beamed a huge, charming child smile, while his eyes sparkled with scarcely containable excitement.

“To avoid,” went on Quogglescum, “in this hour of danger any disunity and disruption to the efficiency of the royal government, we cannot tolerate those whose aim it is to foment disorder and anarchy in the realm…”

The prince’s smile had gone from his face, which now took on an extraordinary pure and fresh-faced fierceness—eyes like crenelles, cheeks like smooth, polished miniature shields. The cerrys—at least those with more than average courage—turned to look at each other. They gazed from the prince to Quogglescum, with his dark flashing eyes and sloping forehead, bald from the forehead to the top of his head, and thick moist lips that shone in the filtered sunlight that entered the great hall from the series of arches at ground level, and from the slit-like windows vaulted in a darker stone, high above the level of the men’s faces. It was apparent to all how close was the relationship between the child and his tutor—how they were both of one mind, the older mind controlling and guiding the younger with a ruthless determination. All those cerrys to whom Quogglescum was a vile beast and a danger to everything they held dear knew that if they did not act at this moment, their whole way of life and life itself—of themselves and their families—would be in jeopardy. Action therefore had ceased to be a question of courage, and had become one of pure survival.

……………………………………..

Queen Hankipong, for several weeks now, since the invasion attempt, had allowed herself to be under virtual house arrest, half believing the reptilian crindbaar dressed in the long yellow silken embroidered gown and dark red leather boots of the supreme office of state, his sleek and narrow head always cocked to one side as he spoke, saying that because of her extreme unpopularity such confinement was for her own protection, half nurturing a scheme to appropriately poison this repugnant individual who had so polluted her sweet son with cruel imaginings and interests. She sensed that the number of servants and retainers, some armed with the familiar Choosean bronze swords, others not, had noticeably increased, and that she was almost always the subject of their attention, so her visits to the herb bed, where armed with knowledge she had gathered since childhood and into which, with the help of one trusted, intelligent maid, Rensa, who had not been compromised by Quogglescum’s janissaries, she had managed to import some not so edible plants from the edge of the jungle many miles away, had to be discreet and apparently totally innocent. It made her sweat profusely as she pored over the greatly varied stems, to realise that one of the many figures who had been briefed to spy on her might happen to be knowledgeable in this field. Carefully she hid the offensive items of horticulture amongst aromatic and harmless species, hoping in some anxiety that no ignorant person would accidentally pluck a leaf that happened to be growing contiguous to one they recognised and needed.

It was while she was tending to this bed on the morning of the swotgidmore that she heard an enormous and terrifying noise, coming from the Great Hall below the terrace where, above the quarters and corridors of State, the Royal Gardens and Palace and fountains were situate. At once she rushed back to the palace and to the quarters where she had been confined, noticing as she went that unusually no one seemed to be around, no guards or servants, except one or two maidservants. But when she reached prince Fridlepidge’s room he was NOT THERE! Frantically, without even thinking of the King, her husband who was bedridden in the adjoining chamber, she threw satin pillows in the air, yanked curtains back from the wardrobes, crying his name, “Friddy where are you, where are you, don’t play, come out! come out!”.

Then suddenly she was quiet. There was so much fear in her that she couldn’t think straight. She could hear the commotion below, which seemed to be getting louder, and the sound of metal scraping and men roaring and shrieking. Of course he was there. She contradicted in herself that nostalgic and romantic thought that he had gone there of his own accord—of course that devil had taken him and they had probably killed him by now. At the first assault of this realisation she could hardly breathe. Then she retched with sobs, fell without attention to pain on her knees and flayed her fists on the stone floor. At length she drew herself up, her hands bleeding, telling herself she had to be strong, she had to be man-like even though she was a woman. She had to face the truth—if he was killed, she would take revenge just like a man. Justice had to prevail. She would be as ruthless as Quogglescum, as bronze-hearted as any of the boobaars of Bubblechoose, even though it was not her country and she hated it from the bottom of her heart.

She went into the ante-room and gathered a sword and marched out into the sunlight. It was then that she remembered her husband. He was sick, he was in pain, his life hanging on by a silk thread but he was like a dead leaf to her now. In her mind she could squeeze him in her fist and he would crackle to pieces. She was master now. This was not accompanied by any satisfaction or self-aggrandisement. It was a strangely pure thought, a kernel of calm inside the storm of fear and danger that vastly exceeded the circumference of her anger and made that a pale and pencilled thing. Like a child in a fantasy, yet physically and mentally totally energised and aware, she half marched, half ran down the many turnabout steps to the source of all the noise and commotion.

_________________________

Intense fear chemically combined with traditional masculine self-esteem creates a vainglorious and audacious compound: at some instance of time the whisper started though from whom no one could have been certain: “father and son…father and son…” Rapidly more voices joined until it became a chant of hard declaiming: “FATHER AND SON”. Quogglescum at first tried to ignore the insult, the accusation, but it squeezed and compressed him until finally he had to explode:

“Attack them, KILL them,” he roared. At once from all side entrances to the stately hall came armed fighters with masks, swords and round shields with pointed lances at their centres. Over the din, the crindbaar upstart screamed, “You’ll never get away with this. You will DIE! I shall be king, I shall inherit all the kingdom and it will be given to crindbaar—AT LAST THE CRINDBAAR WILL TRIUMPH!!!” He roared and gesticulated, as though he himself was fighting, though no one at this stage dared to attack either him or his charge—the little prince with frozen horror on his face. “WE WILL NO LONGER BE CRINDBAAR, WE WILL BE CHOOSBAAR!!!”

At this a huge sword, much longer and brighter than the normal bronze ones, took a swipe at him, knocking him off the platform. Quogglescum staggered. Astonishment and dread were written on his glistening and livid countenance. It had become apparent that feudal retainers of the various cerrys had invaded the hall each in the colours and coats of arms of their masters. The crindbaar looked around but could see none of his bodyguards and henchmen. He sprang to his feet. The incredible din of roars, shrieks and clashing bronze pressed in and lacerated his ears. In the battle scrimmage that he saw before and below him there were no cerrys, but only common soldiers, almost all of them recognisably crindbaar, while the cerrys themselves were standing proudly at the side, often silhouetted against the daylighted arches, watching the massacre with solemn and severe satisfaction.

It was at this point that Hankipong leapt from the steps into the hall and jumped onto the dais. Like a wild tiger she pounced on her child, gathering him up into her arms, then, ignoring Quogglescum, who had blenched at her appearance, addressed the struggling throng below.

“STOP THIS FIGHTING! STOP IT! PEACE!” She repeated the word over and over again, at the top of her weak woman’s voice, as though she, in her long blue, ankle-length gown, her light hair swaying about with the vehemence of her message, had become nothing but that word, as though her image was synonymous with the meaning of the word itself, and they were interchangeable, a sort of comprehensive sensual unity that was a total experience.

The fighting slowly ebbed in its intensity—first, Hankipong could hear her voice saying the word, then the word was able to reach out and touch others, further and further away—“PEACE! PEACE! STOP!” She changed the message in acknowledgement and celebration of this sonic victory.

“Stop that man,” someone shouted from the far side of the hall. At once several men chased up the steps in pursuit of the fleeing Quogglescum.

“Uncle Quoggy,” murmured prince Fridlepidge, his lips pale with shock and exhaustion.

“He’s not your Uncle.” Hankipong turned to look at him indignantly.

“No, he’s your FATHER,” pronounced Dribblepont, lunging forward, brandishing his sword, as if threatening to kill both the mother and son. At once the entire order of cerrys followed suit, encircling Hankipong, so she could not escape.

“I was never unfaithful to the king” she cried, almost choking with terror.

“Yes, you were,” said one lord.

“This is not the king’s son, “ cried another cerrys now standing next to their leader. “This is that crindbaar’s son.”

“YES,” shouted the whole company.“WHORE!—THAT’S WHAT YOU ARE—A WHORE!”

“That’s what you were before you ran from your country,” declared Dribblepont. ”You are a murderess too—that’s what we were told by merchants from your country. You committed murder. And you are also a TRAITOR!”

By now the crindbaar and peasants who had been fighting for their lordships took up the cry: “WHORE! MURDERER! TRAITOR!”

Hankipong stared, unable to move. Her legs were completely numb, with no strength in them. She held the white faced, terrified prince protectively close to her breast, though her arms felt like they could drop off at any moment. She could not speak any more or even pronounce words as her mouth and throat had become lifeless. like wood or parchment. Tears dripped from her eyes. In her mind she prayed desperately for herself and her son, according to the religion of Hindell, her home religion, which believed in the One True God. But another part of her was saying to her assailants: just kill me—put me to death now, now!

“Got him’,” shouted a crindbaar voice in triumph, as he descended the steps with three others carrying the blood-soaked body of Quogglescum.

“Good,” said Dribblepont, withdrawing his sword from the foreign woman and child, so that the rest of the cerrys who had gathered round her followed suit. “It’s fitting that crindbaar should have killed that criminal and not one of us to be sullied by a sordid deed that demeans our very status. We must be united and stick together, so we can keep this country under our honourable and noble rule.”

“Yes, yes, right, right!” chorused the cerrys, gathered on and around the dais. Below this raised platform, the main part of the hall was covered with the dead and the groaning wounded, who were being attended to by servants and apothecaries.

“Make him boobaar!” Aldlepont shouted. At once many voices took up this cry. Men and women from the town came in through the arches and tiptoeing along the edge of the hall to avoid stepping on the dead—something forbidden under cruntle puntle superstition—they gathered as close as was permitted by ancient custom to the lords of the land.

The ancient crown, which had been removed from the King’s quarters by those who had captured and killed Quogglescum, was brandished before Dribblepont, and he bowed his tall head so that another lord could place the glittering gold and silver symbol of authority upon it. A great chorus went up: “HAIL DRIBBLEPONT I! HAIL THE KING! LONG LIVE THE KING OF BUBBLECHOOSE!”

Hankipong and Fridlepidge were taken away by armed men and locked in a dark, dank dungeon with nothing but stone to lie on and the bones and offal of putrid meat to chew. When next merchants from her country of origin came to the harbour, the mother and son were frog-marched by armed guards down to the jetty and unceremoniously put aboard the ship. It was said that Fridlepidge died during the journey, because he fell overboard. Hankipong was tied to the bottom of the vessel and raped repeatedly by the sailors and even the captain. When they reached an island that told them they were within five quilcotts of their destination the crew stabbed her to death and threw her body to the sharks.

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Anonymous Bosh is a 75-year old aspiring writer

#Anonymous Bosh #Aloen Queen #fantasy #short story #fiction

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