#i love my cat and my friends cats but other than that… be gone foul beast

[sojutrait]

if ollie hates cats is she a true lesbian 🧐

yes bc i also hate cats to some extent 🫣🫣🫣

#i love my cat and my friends cats but other than that… be gone foul beast #but i love every single dog i come across im a hypocrite 😔 #asks #anon

[boxwinebaddie]

-insert xennys very sweet ask about my cat here that for some reason i lost lmao?-

hi head chef xenny! so i am not sure what happened, but i lost your lovely ask message in which you asked about my cat!! so everyone please pretend like it's up there and know it was incredibly lovely! <3

but yay! she is my favorite subject, style falls directly afterwards, and speaking of the later, while nothing thrills me more than doing my lovely rm/pep asks, i do think it's really sweet when you guys ask me personal questions ( and i have said all but fuck it to my digital footprint, so like, really the sky is the limit at this point. )

below the cut is probably going to be a lot of rambling about my cat, some pet stuff, backstory, uncle nina lore!!! ( if you like that ), happy things, sad things, a small tw for pet death ( not her, i swear! ) <3

but everyone, meet the little lady that has sat curled up at the foot of my bed, lain on my lap and threatened to delete nearly every single one of my peppermint/rm updates by stepping on my keyboard.

meet lily :) <3

everyone this is lily, lily this is everyone!~

-- also yes she's very pretty, yes i know, yes it runs in my family ;)

she is my second kid, and, yes i am one of those cringey people that calls my pets my kids. however, as i have no desire to have any human children in my life time, my cats really are...daughters to me.

but any who, before she was That Lily she was This Lily.

( ALSO YES I KNOW!!!! I KNOOOW!!! MAAM SPARE PRETTY? PLS! )

i had weird cat baby fever ( i really love kittens, specifically very, very fluffy ones -- i volunteer at a cat shelter and i love the kitten room ) and i tracked this weird ad a woman put up about having kittens.

it was...very sketchy. that lady was the craziest tweaker lady in the world ( bless her, but oh my god ), she was living in this trashed motel room had like 6 other animals, didn't know what day it was...she was basically like yOu gOt fIFty DoLlArs oR WhaT??? and i was like ah jeez...Yes M...aam? and she just straight up held these two little cats up by the scruff wavin' em around and was like sO WHICH ONE U WANT??? sadhsadksdlks

and i ended up with lily! who at the time they were calling freckles because she had a little freckle on her nose...which i think is very cute she is a kyle pile kitty <3

but ohhhh my god she was COVERED in fleas, she was HAGGARD bless her, a trailer park princess, and the lady told me she was litter box trained....SHE WAS NOT! and i spent all day having to try and teach her how to use the litter box it had been several hours an she had not gone to the bathroom, i was having a panic attack, no vet would see me...MISS THING WOULD NOT USE THE RESTROOM!!!!

but then i noticed she liked to chill behind a tv i had set in the cover of my room so i...put my thinking cap on and put the litter box behind the tv where she liked to sit aND SHE WENT!!!! AND SHE TOOK THE NASTIEST MOST FOUL MEGA SHIT IN THE WORLD AND I CRIED ON SNAPCHAT AT 12AM I WAS SO HAPPY SKHDKS.

( also this is how she looked after that shit...like GOOFY!!!! maam dont stick ur tongue out with me I!!! WAS!!! CRYING!!!! STOP! IT!!! )

now...is lily smart?

no. absolutely not. she has never had a thought in her life.

( not a thought behind those eyes...wow )

but she is VERY NICE!

shes a sweet lovely girl. i can carry her anywhere with no complaints. she is so fluffy and pretty and kind. she licked all the tears off my face once and whether she was thirsty or not...i thought it was nice.

AND THATS WHAT MATTERS! I DONT CARE IF UR DUMB, BABY!

we stan bimbo cat lily, the official mascot of the ncu, tyvm! <3

but yes here are some pictures of her ( please don't clown blonde/peach nina in my egirl phase...let me live sjdksajd ) and yes she really is gods angel like what the hell she is my BEST FRIEND!~

but like i said she is my second daughter. my first daughter's name

....was rose <3

also yes...she is also...gorgina...i know...my genes

( and i can't talk too much about her bc i will start crying rip )

now both my cats i got from weird suss situations, i got rose because my first exboyfriends best friend got her off craigs list and didnt want her which???? EXCUSE ME LOOK HOW CUTE SHE WAS SHUT UP

and this was all new to me, my mom was very very allergic to cats, i had never really had a pet other than our family dog who was kind of a motherfucker ( sorry king ), and i...did not know how to own a cat.

but she taught me very quickly!

because unlike lily, rose was fucking smarter than god, like oh my god bitch, she was mean as FUCK and crazy and quiet and calculating and she was smarter than most human beings.

she was very salty when i first adopted lily ( like when ur mom has a baby and ur like what the fuck brother!!! ) but as u can see lilys dumb idiot ass personality charmed roses insane criminal mastermind personality and they became like sisters to eachother...aw <3 :')

i also won both of them in the first exboyfriend divorce ( i wasnt married i promise i was in like my second year of college i just call all my breakups divorces to be funny ) and luckily i did not have to fight for them bc exboyfriend numero uno was...batshit insane. die pls.

and they were also the two main things that kept me going when i was in the sike!ward after how badly that breakup affected me...yes i am jersey!kyle i am insane...cats out of the bag. mentally ill queenina!

but anyways, rose was staying down at my parents for a little bit while i was at school because lily was just more portable...

and while i was down there, i got a very awful and hysterical phone call from my mom saying that she passed away and ...that she didnt know what happened she just found her...etc. :((((((

and obviously my mom was very traumatized, so i could not have her you know, investigate the causes, so i talked her through...all of the horrible bits...it was so fucking horrible.

so i to this day, do not know how she passed....she was four :(

and i think she was just too smart? too fabulous? too evil? but also very kind and sweet in a lowkey way? like kyle? which is SOOO funny because she has BIG OLE STANLEY MARSH EYEBALLS.

like guys she looks like an owl like please her eyes are comically large she is so pretty i love u rose!!!! stunna!!!

but...yeah :/ she passed from unknown causes, i unfortunately think it was a heart condition or something internal that never got diagnosed...cats are very good at keeping secrets and rose was the best. my sweet, sweet girl. </3

so as we may know, i student taught all of last year ( hi teacher nina! ) and i ran a lesson that went...extremely well. i had part two scheduled for monday...and it was the monday after rose passed.

and iiiii was :( catatonic. i was so miserable i was suffering it was so terrible. that whole lesson went horribly and i cried in front of literally everyone...a very bad day for me.

i wallowed in that grief for a long time. i remember getting really angry? about why they'd just take her suddenly like that?

and i guess i'm a fate and destiny girlie even in my hater girlie arc

( i really am in my jersey kyle arc w/ chaotic kenny level disasters )

because i found this wine glass ( yes in uncle nina boxwinebaddie fashion i do collect vintage handpainted wine glasses ) and it just felt like a sign...so i made her a little corner in my room with pictures and stuff she liked and...

i started writing her letters. <3

i started doing this because a boy in one of my courses told me that when his grandfather passed, he...talked to him? by that he meant that he just spoke to him sometimes when he missed him, recorded him messages, wrote him letters, etc. to keep his spirit alive

so actually...that's why rm!jersey kyle writes stan letters...

because i write letters to rose :')

( WOOOOAH UNCLE NINA RM LORE!!! ahhsdhksd )

and everyday is hard and horrible, but i got lily in my lap, i put rose's picture in a locket, i take her on hikes and walks ( i'm trying to teach lily how to go on walks but bless her...her lil brain...its not working ) and she's with me all the time.

i hope that was a thrilling journey for you! thank you for letting me talk about my kids and i hope that wasn't too long or overshare-y or weird? i will go back to style shitposting now, i swear!

-nina, your favorite single cat mom wine aunt fanfiction uncle <3

#HLKDSHSLKHDS #i wrote too much of this ask meme to toss it im so sorry #BUT YES UNCLE NINA LORE AND MEET LILY AND ROSE #MY GALS #but yes lily is my little lady and she does almost delete my fanfictions every damn day and thats ok #because she is pretty and soft and so nice and im not mad at her ever like look at her shes forgiven #pardoned for all her crimes she has pretty privilege #also WHEW not me crying oh my god #NO ONE MAKE FUN OF ME IM PRETTY I PROMISE THOSE PICTURES WERE OUT OF CONTEXT

[yourwildsimp]

sweet confessions

includes: aizawa, y/n

warnings: mentions of nightmares

length: 1,986 words

summary: with neither of you able to sleep, trapped words are finally allowed to slip like melted butter.

Four in the morning was not the time to be up, especially on a work night. Well, a workday at this point. You should be in bed, surrounded by the fluffiest, warmest blankets on the softest mattress you could afford.

And yet? Here you were in the bathroom, washing your face with warm water, for what was the third time in a row. It was as if you were trying to slowly drown yourself. A yawn left your lips, strong enough to rock your body with violent yet satisfying shudders. You cursed your insomnia. You knew you were tired, so why couldn’t you fall asleep?

Something clattered in the kitchen, a hushed swear which broke the stillness of the shared apartment soon followed.

Was he up, too?

Your face heated up at the thought of your roommate. There had always been a spark between the two of you, but both of you dodged any confrontation. It was like fate danced you both around each other, curious to see who would take charge. Who would finally end this little game of cat and mouse? You didn’t think you had enough confidence to be the one to put a stop to the games you were playing and admit how hard you’ve fallen for him.

However, as life tugs you both along, curious things unfold.

You cracked open the bathroom door to peep out, holding your breath in case he was just outside. This was new to you, as Aizawa was typically asleep for as long as he could be. His record is 19 hours straight after a hard mission. Your record was nine hours, and you were damn proud of yourself for it, too.

You carefully stepped out after turning off the light, trying to creep back to your bedroom without getting caught. It’s not like you wanted to avoid Aizawa, you just didn’t want him to catch you up this late again. Though as soon as you took your first step out into the hallway, he spoke, the words making you freeze like a deer in headlights.

“What are you doing awake at this hour?” You swallowed around the lump in your throat as you stood straight.

“I thought you didn’t know I was up,” you said with a grin, but Aizawa could see how tired you were.

“I’m a pro-hero,” he hummed, a coffee mug warming his hands. “It’s almost insulting that you thought I didn’t notice you. Now, why are you up?”

“I could ask you the same thing, Mr. Pro-hero,” you retorted, earning a worn chuckle. The distant look in his eyes told you everything you needed to know to understand why he was awake as well.

Nightmares.

You knew all too well that Aizawa’s night terrors were a force to be reckoned with. On some nights he even woke up screaming or falling out of bed. Aizawa’s dreams were the only thing that could get such a strong reaction from him.

“Drinking coffee this late can’t be good for you,” you said, changing the subject rather quickly while you headed into the kitchen with your roommate. “Doesn’t a hero with your status need to stay healthy?”

“It’ll keep me up,” he murmured with a strange sort of solemnness infecting his tone.

You couldn’t stop the empathetic look from tainting your face even if you wanted to. You hated nothing more than watching as the hero business ate away at your best friend.

“Hey.” His voice took you from your thoughts. “We’re already up this late, and I doubt either of us will sleep soon, so. . .” Aizawa trailed off as you looked up at him. “So, come sit on the roof with me. Only for a bit.”

Your jaw nearly dropped to the floor before you caught yourself and nodded. You hoped that you didn’t look too head over heels for him, but little to your knowledge, Aizawa found your reaction cute.

“Sure, alright,” you said with a small smile, trying to sound nonchalant. You didn’t, but Aizawa didn’t comment on it, sparing your pride. “Ah, wait, let me grab a hoodie-”

“Don’t bother,” he said, just loud enough for you to hear him.

A smirk tainted your lips as you crossed your arms over your chest and accusingly leaned towards him.

“Oh, so you want me to freeze? That isn’t very heroic, mister.” The way you raised your eyebrows got him to spill a chuckle.

“I do not. You can just wear mine."

Leaving the conversation at that, he turned away before you ever saw the pink hue that dusted his face. It took you a second to let his words process before you were following after him like a lost puppy.

It's not a big deal. He's just being friendly and giving, as always. That's the lie you've always told yourself.

“How do we get up on the roof?" You asked as he led you on the small back porch.

Your small smile dropped entirely as he jumped and grabbed the edge of the roof, pulling himself up with practiced ease.

"All right, asshole, not everyone is a pro-hero, so-" You cut yourself off as soft cloth suddenly wrapped around you, acting as a safety harness.

He lifted you to the roof without breaking a sweat. And to be honest, that boosted your confidence by a few points.

"Such foul language doesn't belong in a pretty mouth like yours," Aizawa murmured, his calloused hands carefully pulling his scarf off of your shoulders. He left the cloth on your waist for you to take care of, as he didn't want to overstep any boundaries.

The scarf was the furthest thing from your mind as you hoped the dark sky hid your heavy blush.

He said I was… Pretty. Aizawa… called me pretty.

"You, um…" You tried to start a conversation to distract Aizawa from the fact you weren't removing his scarf. "You got up here stupidly fast. Do you do this often?"

He didn't comment on the matter of his scarf, silently using it to justify why he was sitting this close to you.

"I'm a stealth hero. I'm always jumping rooftop to rooftop," he reasoned, heavy eyes taking in the ever so familiar landscape.

"That's not what I asked," you prodded gently. "Do you come up here often, this late at night?"

You wanted him to trust you, to tell you what was obviously plaguing his thoughts or what had scared him sleepless this time. You were well aware trust wasn't given easily, especially for someone like him. Someone who's been hurt time and time again.

His jaw shifted, and you were too concerned about his mental health to think of how handsome he was with his sharp features.

"Sometimes. When the dreams aren't incredibly terrible," he muttered after a thick swallow.

You hummed to let him know that you understood, your body shifting a minuscule closer to his warmth. He noticed, and without a word pulled his hoodie over his head. You two were sitting so close that you needed to lean to the side to avoid getting elbowed.

"Hey, what are you-"

He smiled gently as he set the article in your lap, and the sight alone shut you up. He was gorgeous, basking in the never-sleeping city lights.

"Didn’t I tell you? You can wear my jacket if you're cold."

Be still your beating heart, because if it didn’t soon, you were sure he'd think someone was knocking at the door with how loud it was pounding against your ribs.

With a painfully flustered chuckle to fill the silence, you put it on. And, God, you'd be content dying surrounded by his scent of heavy rain and the forest. A small thank you filtered off your tongue. Using the visual excuse of adjusting how it pooled at your hips, you shifted ever closer.

"You know-"

"Sometimes-"

You had both gone to speak at the same time, earning a soft giggle from you and a deep chuckle from him.

"You go first," you offered with a gentle smile.

"Only if you go after, no matter what," he playfully demanded.

As you agreed, you watched his eyes lingered on you, something indescribable dancing behind the walls of charcoal. With a deep breath, he faced the horizon.

"Sometimes when I drive, I'll turn on the radio. Just to have some background noise. I don't pay attention to it, though, because most of the music is shit," Aizawa started, something in his chest swelling as you chuckled at him. "But then, when I was sitting in the UA teacher's parking lot, something hit me as I listened to a sappy song."

"What? That you're getting old?" You teased, trying to break some of the tension in his shoulders.

"I realized that all of a sudden, every love song was about you."

Your soft gasp sounded like a nuclear bomb to him and he screwed his eyes shut. He knew he should've stayed in bed.

"I..." Aizawa moved to stand. "I should go back to sleep," he finished rather quickly.

Your nibble fingers gripped his pants leg and he froze entirely, like a child who’d been caught eating candy past midnight.

"Hey… What happened to our little deal?" Your caring tone caused him to hesitate. "Please, Shouta, won't you hear what I have to say?"

Shouta. How pretty it sounded rolling off your tongue.

He swayed in the morning breeze, the very beginning of a sunrise highlighting his dark features. And then he sat, avoiding looking at you at all costs.

"As I was going to say before I was thankfully interrupted," you began, adjusting the sleeves of your (his) jacket. You took a deep breath, hyping yourself up to finally fess up as he did. "You know when you look at a kitten, you think of Shinsou? Or when you see candy apples, you think of Eri?" You asked, earning a stiff nod.

"Everything has started reminding me of you. From sleep bags to your favorite dark chocolates, and baggy clothes like the ones you rarely allow me to borrow, or a coffee mug you'd like. You're always running through my mind," you took a breath, needing to get some air after your fast-paced rant.

You both sat in heavy silence, the dew in the grass glinting from the rays of marigold that poured over the horizon.

"Can I do something stupid?" He asked quietly, shifting in his spot.

" 'Course. It's about time we swapped roles," you humored.

Smokey-colored eyes bored into yours as he faced you, Adam's apple bobbing as he gulped. You'd never seen him so… beautifully revealing.

Suddenly you were surrounded by warmth, Aizawa no longer looking at you. He hugged you so desperately, it was as if he thought you'd leave him. He scruff tickled your neck as he nuzzled into you, but you couldn't care less.

The way you didn't need to think twice about returning the hug made him smile against your skin. You both sat there on the roof, basking in rays of fresh morning sunlight, never letting go of each other.

"It was about losing you," Aizawa breathed, breaking the blissful silence. "My nightmare… In it, I had lost you forever."

You closed your eyes, one hand tenderly massaging his scalp with the other held him closer to you. "I'm right here, Shouta. I'm not going anywhere," you reassured, feeling his breathing pattern calm. "You know that, don't you?"

"Yeah…" He whispered, voice heavy with sleep and concern.

"Let's get back to bed, okay?" You murmured, feeling the weight of your feelings change from suffocating to soaring.

"Not yet. Please… I just wanna stay with you." Aizawa pulled you impossibly closer and you smiled.

"Whatever you wish, but don't blame me when you're sore tomorrow." You felt him chuckle as his eyes drooped shut.

" 'm always sore anyways."

#comfort #aizawa #aizawa x reader #aizawa x you #mha fluff #boku no hero fluff #poor baby really just needs a hug

[bitches-who-write]

you guys said in other posts that Henry and Patrick likes to scare. can you write a story on a reader whose naturally jumpy and scares way to easily. maybe a story about what they do to her? if you can make it reaally scary and teasy I like that. your guys writing is out of this world. thanx

Your wish is our command!

Scaredy Cat

Description: Reader is easily scareable/jumpy. Henry and Patrick take full advantage of this. Featuring Belch & Vic (Spinoff of our haunted house fic)

Word Count: 2,979

Warning: Suspense, Terror, Foul language,

We hope you enjoy this story as much as we enjoyed writing it. It’s our longest post yet so we’re feeling proud!! It definitely brings on Halloween Vibes for those of you who are as obsessed about Halloween as we are!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Everyone knows Eddie Kaspbrak is a nervous kid but Y/N, Eddie’s sister is even more of a scaredy-cat. Henry and Patrick could smell your fear a mile away. It’s the day before Halloween and the town of Derry is celebrating their annual haunted house attraction. Typically the last walk-through is at midnight, but Henry and Patrick have an alternative plan for their easily scareable victim.

It’s the middle of the afternoon and all anyone at school can talk about is how terrifying the haunted house attraction is going to be. I sit at an empty cafeteria table alone working on my history homework when suddenly I feel a hand grab my shoulder. I practically jump out of my skin, already feeling on edge from all the Halloween talk. I abruptly turn around to face whoever is behind me. To my surprise, it is Patrick Hockstetter and Henry Bowers. I shiver feeling the mixture of Patrick’s cool metal rings and callused hands slide down my arm, gently caressing my sides. I try to lean forward to escape his unwanted embrace, both of them still snickering from my startled reaction. “Holy shit dude, you weren’t kidding she is worse than her wimpy brother.” Henry chortled. I look up at them with a confused expression which only makes Patrick look even more satisfied. “That's right Y/N, I’ve been watching you...studying you....taking a few notes.” Patrick takes a dramatic pause, grinning before continuing; “ I’ve learned a lot of interesting things about you. Like what your fears and phobias are, and what scares you the most- which is a lot coming from you.” Henry chimes in “We noticed the way you glance over your shoulder when you’re all alone, and how you quickly turn on a light when you get home so you’re not in the dark for long.” My eyes widen in shock, realizing they’ve been stalking me without me even knowing it. I finally mustered up the courage to speak but unfortunately for me, my voice dripping from uncertainty and apprehension; “What do you guys want?” With a playful smirk, Henry grabs a chair and turns it so the back of the chair is facing me, resting his arms over it as he sits down. Patrick takes a seat directly next to me but slings his arm around my side, trapping me against him and the table. Henry, never breaking eye contact, finally speaks up first. He licks his lips before leaning in close, his voice full of malice, “We just want to spend time with you. Be ready by midnight we’re picking you up.” They both begin to stand up and walk away but Patrick slowly turns back towards me, “Oh and Y/N... that’s an order.” With that, they both exit the cafeteria leaving me trembling in fear.

I anxiously get ready knowing they will be here in another 10 minutes. I told my mother I was spending the night at a friend's house. Eddie had already gone to his sleepover at Richie’s house so I couldn’t even warn him about my whereabouts for the night. As I finish getting ready, I can’t shake the uneasy feeling that I’m being watched. I chalk the feeling off thinking I’m just being paranoid at this point. I walk into my closet to grab a jacket. When I reach for the pull string to turn on the light, of course, the lightbulb is dead- just my luck. I begin to slide each jacket down the rack trying to find the one I want when suddenly something-or someone grabs my wrist causing me to scream in terror. I pulled my wrist back with such force that I stumbled backwards falling on my ass. I try to scoot back to get away from whoever is now slowly approaching me. The tall dark figure slowly emerges from the dark closet, stepping into the light of my bedroom. My eyes widened in both panic and shock seeing Patrick standing there with an eerie smirk plastered on his face. In a mocking tone he says “You ready princess? It's time to go.” Still sitting on the floor with my back up against my bed, I then feel someone squeeze my sides from under the bed. I let out another blood-curdling scream as I jolt forward frantically crawling towards Patrick now, not knowing where to go anymore. I distinctly hear Henry’s laugh from under the bed sounding satisfied that his little prank was successful. “Fuck, it’s a good thing your mom is such a heavy sleeper.” He says in an arrogant tone. Patrick flashes him a knowing smirk adding to Henry’s observation. “Yeaaah. I’m sure those pills probably helped, too.” This made both guys laugh hysterically. “What?! What did you do to my mother?!” I ask in utter disbelief and confusion. “Ohh calm the fuck down, she’ll be fine she’s just having a good...rest.” Patrick says now guiding me by my shoulder towards the door to leave the house now.

We walk out to a blue car sitting outside the front of my house; Belch in the driver seat, chuckling. After about a 15 minute drive, we finally arrived at our destination. I had no clue where these two psychos were even taking me up until now. I look up and see a nightmarish haunted house attraction. However, for a place that is so popular in Derry, especially the night before Halloween- not a soul is around. I hesitantly step out of the car; Belch giving me a big taunting smile from his place in the car. “Good luck, Y/N” and with that, he sped off.

I try my best to be brave but my facial expression and voice says otherwise. My eyes nervously look around taking in the scenery, the palms of my hands are sweaty, and I feel a lump in my throat as I try to swallow. “W-W-Where is e-everyone? Why is n-n-nobody here?” I instantly begin to blush as they laugh at my shaky, nervous voice. Patrick’s smirk begins to grow into a wider smile as he becomes giddy in excitement, unable to stand still in one place. He jumps in front of me, facing my direction as he holds my shoulders. I glance over at Henry who is looking over at us with a knowing smirk. “That is the best part...you’re gonna love it Y/N; It’s gonna be a scream!” I continue to feel uneasy since Patrick still hasn’t answered my question about why no one else is here. Finally, Henry speaks up. “Let’s just say the Bower’s gang gets special treatment when it comes to getting what we want. Now we have the whole place to ourselves.” My stomach sinks realizing they probably terrorized the poor workers into closing the attractions. Patrick grabs my hand forcefully pulling me into the makeshift haunted house building. I tried to dig my heels into the ground to stop us but that obviously didn’t work as he is much stronger and taller than myself. Even if it did work, Henry would be right there to catch me so there is no use in trying to escape them.

Henry takes the lead opening the black curtain into the house, revealing a long dark corridor. The only light source illuminating the path was from the moonlight. I look up at Patrick who is on my left side. With pleading eyes I begin to mouth the words ‘no’ over and over again at him. He just smirks and shoves me forward. I clutch onto Patrick's arm as the three of us venture down to the first room...a Medical Experimentation Chamber.

As I walk into the room I frantically begin to look around at my surroundings. The room is dimly lit yet there are disorienting strobe lights flickering, blinding me. I squint my eyes to focus on my surroundings better. It looks like there's a lot of twists and turns ahead. I see medical tables equipped with thick straps and buckles for restraints. Alongside these tables is medical equipment that looks dented and rusty...or is that blood?. In addition to the visual distractions, there are deafly loud sound effects of patients screaming and the sounds of surgical tools being played on a loop. I was so distracted by my surroundings that I didn't notice Patrick trailing behind me. He proceeds to pick me up from behind and lays me down onto the medical table. Henry walks over and holds me by my arms and legs so Patrick can strap me in. They both back away from me laughing as I see someone enter the room. The man that walked in was dressed as a surgeon in all white, I could see he was covered in blood. My eyes widen in hysteria as I notice his facial features. His eyes were very sinister, his nose looked as if it was broken with a gashed cut on the bridge of his nose with a jagged hack job of stitches. My eyes began to fixate on his mouth which was spread wide and sewn into a gruesome smile. His teeth were jagged and sharp. As he leans down towards me, lowering his surgical tool; I begin to scream and thrash against my restraints. Suddenly everything becomes pitch black and the deafening noise vanishes. The only noises left in the room were the sound of me screaming and crying along with Henry and Patrick laughing their asses off. The room became dimly lit again as Henry began to undo the restraints. As he works to unbuckle me I frantically look around trying to find the surgeon who was just in here, but suddenly disappeared. I sat up slowly trying to compose myself although my body is trembling excessively. Patrick gave me no breaks as he continues to push me forward towards the next room...The SlaughterHouse.

As we walk into the next room, I am desperately holding onto the back of Henry’s shirt begging to go home. I can hear him chuckle  arrogantly as he feels me gripping his shirt. Patrick whispers in my ear from behind, his hands placed firmly on my hips, “But the fun is just getting started princess.” I take a deep breath before asking no one in particular, “Can someone hold my hand? ..Please?” My voice filled with terror and practically pleading. They both look at each other at the same time, laugh and respond with a mocking as they imitate my voice- “noOoO.” I look down at my feet feeling so small until I can hear what sounds like metal clanking together- echoing louder and louder. I completely stop dead in my tracks, my legs feeling so wobbly as we enter a room with hooks. So many hooks with prosthetic pigs hanging on them! I hear Patrick from behind me chuckle and say in a taunting sing-song type voice, “Come on Y/N~ keep moving.” Henry looks at us, laughing in amusing sporting that same smirk that never left his face. Henry slowly approaches me with a mischievous glint in his eyes. His voice is low and cold, “ Hey Y/N ever wonder what it felt like to be a pig hanging on a hook?” My eyes widen as he says this and I quickly try to make a run for it but Patrick is fast to grab me before I could. He begins to carry me over to Henry effortlessly despite my squirming. Patrick puts me down then shoves me into Henrys chest. Henry then picks me up and places me on one of the metal hooks, putting a hole in my favorite black jacket. I begin crying..again this time sobbing uncontrollably as I struggle to say, “G-Guys this r-r-really isn't f-funny. I wanna gah-g-go home now. Get me d-down pleasee!” They both laugh at my breakdown and begin to walk out of the room. Patrick peeks his head back in, “Just hang there for a sec princess, we’ll be right back ~” Henry chimes in “I wouldn’t give the butcher a hard time if I were you. He hates when you struggle...” I hear them laugh in the distance as they walk off again. That's when I heard it...that's when I heard the sound of a chainsaw and heavy footsteps charging towards me. I scream so loud I start to lose my voice a little, but it doesn’t stop me from trying. A man that looks well over 6ft tall with broad shoulders walks in. He looks like he came straight out of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. At this point, I’m bawling my eyes out, screaming and desperately calling for Henry and Patrick’s help. Although realistically I know the chainsaw has no blade on it, it’s still equally terrifying. The butcher brings the saw somewhat close to my face. I wince, closing my eyes tightly as the strong scent of gasoline invades my nose, along with a faint musty smell coming off the chainsaw, as well as the man in front of me. I brace myself for the impact which never came. I opened my eyes to see the man lowering the chainsaw instead. I let out a sigh of relief thinking he is going to let me down but instead he pulls out a blindfold. At this point, I can literally hear my heartbeat pulsating through my ears. I’m trying to kick aimsley now that can't see anything. That’s when I feel someone grabbing at my legs. My blindfold drops down as I see Patrick looking up at me with his famous smile. Henry begins to get me down as he mockingly says, “I told you he hates it when you struggle, didn’t I?”

I am violently shaking from adrenaline to the point that they have to keep me upright, sandwiched in the middle of them both. I look at them and ask between sobs, “Are we done yet? Can I go home now? Please?” Henry condescendingly pats my head as if I am a child while Patrick chuckles and says, “We have one more room to complete and you’re their special guest...they kept vacancy just for you!”

As we exit the slaughterhouse we suddenly are displaced into a parking lot. A rush of confusion washes over me. Patrick just said there’s still one more room left, why are we outside? I shiver out of fright as Patrick rubs his hands up and down my arms, his head tilted as he looks at me with a teasing smirk. Henry nudges me and points up to a sign which reads “Motel” with a crooked red light flickering. It reads ‘Vacancy’. The makeshift motel looks runned-down and absolutely filthy. Henry and Patrick lead me to the front office. Opening the creaky wooden door on a spring, I walk in cautiously. I quickly become distracted by several different TV scenes that display [fake] murders taking place in the motel rooms by masked men. Blood-curdling screams fill my ears, making me even more thrown off guard. As I look around the office more, Patrick takes 2 long strides towards the front desk and rings the silver bell that is placed on the corner of the desk. I jump, flinching as he looks at me smirking. “I don’t think anyone is home.” He says in a sarcastic voice. Henry shoves me forward towards the back room now. He kneels down and opens a trap door. He looks up at me, “Ladies first.” Patrick snickers behind me as I cautiously started entering the crawlspace on my hands and knees. As I am crawling forward in the dirt ground, I feel Patrick smack and grab my ass causing me to jump, hitting my head in the cramped, narrow space. Patrick lets out a satisfied laugh. “You know, your ass is your only redeeming quality princess… that and your fear.” This earns a laugh from Henry, as well, who reaches under Patrick and grabs my ankle  unexpectedly; pulling me back. I let out a little yelp and eat dirt. They both start laughing again. Finally, we reach the end of the crawlspace. Patrick reaches over me and pushes up on the door to open it. I feel Patrick lift me slightly so I can pull myself out. I take note of my surroundings. That underground path lead us from the motel office, to now one of the bedrooms. As I straighten myself out, Henry and Patrick follow closely behind, climbing out of the craw-space, as well. Before I move forward I made the decision to grab Patrick’s hand despite what he said earlier about hand-holding.

Patrick looks down at me smirking but doesn't say anything. In fact, he actually holds my hand back, intertwining his fingers tightly between mine but I can tell there’s an ulterior motive behind his actions. The door handle to the motel bedroom begins to violently shake and jiggle. The door slowly opens revealing two men wearing masks. They are headed right towards me, their long legs approaching quickly. I try to back up but sadly I was still holding onto Patrick... or should I say he is holding onto me. At this point, Patrick picks me up and literally throws me onto the bed. The weight of his body is holding my legs down. As I’m struggling against Patrick, Henry walks over and holds my arms tightly above my head giving Patrick a better hold of my legs. The two masked men walk over and one of them pulls out a knife. Unlike the chainsaw from earlier, this was a very real and very sharp knife. In a taunting way, the masked men walk over slowly- one going to my left and the one with the knife going to my right. I begin to scream but it is quickly muffled by the man on my left covering my mouth. My anxiety takes over now, not able to take any more scares. I begin to see black slowly starting with my peripheral vision as it slowly covers the rest of my eyes. I begin to drift into unconsciousness. The last thing I head was the laughter of 4  recognizable guys and the muffled talking of Henry, Patrick, Vic, and Belch.

I woke up in my bed, the sun glaring down on my face. I sit up slowly, trying to remember how I even got here. Last thing I remember was being held down by those assholes in that terrifying motel room. I get out of bed and begin to stretch when I notice something hanging on my closet door. I hesitantly walked over to my closet seeing a note stuck to the door. The paper note was help up by a knife.. the same knife from last night! My breathing becomes shallow and hands shake as I read over the note. Still feeling jumpy, I jump when I hear Eddie’s and Richie’s loudmouths enter the front door. I bring my attention back to the note which reads~

I can’t get your screams or your scared face out of my mind. How about we try to recreate them in the bedroom? -Patrick

You’re my number one target now..scaredy-cat - Henry

#headcanons #henry bowers #henry bowers x reader #imagines #patrick hocksetter x reader #patrick hockstetter #victor criss #victor criss x reader #belch huggins #preferences #bowers gang headcanons #bowers gang #horror movie #horror #suspense #request #movies #it fandom #it movie #it 2017 #halloween #spooky #haunted house #halloween fun #dark fic

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Twisted Abyss is what I'll call the au of Abyss Y/N in Twisted Wonderland. I'm back with ever more things.

So like, in this I just wanna cover the first interactions. Obviously, Y/N doesn't like revealing their abyssal status to strangers so like back on Liyue they hid their traits behind their hair and their coat. When Ace and Duece are sent to the Dwarve's Mine to get the magic crystal, that's where Y/N shows off her abyssal traits, sort of going into half FL mode to turn the monster into past tense. They were larger than normal, and let out a terrifying roar that shook them to the core. Y/N was met with a lot of questions after the incident, only to get vague answers until the first dorm leaders overblot.

Now, everytime a dorm leader overblots, or vice in Jamil's case, Y/N usually ends up tapping into their Foul Legacy form. They've only ever gone up to the equivelant of delusion mode for the safety of others and the overblot victim. But one day, the gang asks "Hey, how big is your full monster form?"

To which Y/N replies, "Like, 16 feet, or 487cm if we're gonna use the other scale."

In response, their were several jaws on the floor and a demand that Y/N show them their full form. To which they do, and ita just a bunch of fun all around. Except, since regular Y/N is so attached to the boys, their FL has become what Childe is to them, a giant purring moth monster who adores pets.

Also, there's this other thing I thought of where Y/N got mistaken for a cryptid during the Halloween event, but I'll touch up on that later.

i love how this is basically you going "and here's how i adopted/befriended an entire school from another dimension"

oh my oh my your new friends would LOVE using your fluff as a pillow, Leona and Silver especially!! altho Silver is more spontaneously sleeping but Leona i swear he seems to have a sensor for when you're in your moth form because if it's not dire he WILL find you and flop down and not move for hours. actually i think you and Leona would understand each other pretty well because you both probably have some more cat-like traits!!

also i just realized that in your Foul Legacy form you are literally 3 times taller than some of the shorter boys. you can pick up people like Riddle, Epel, and Lilia like they're a couple of grapes (Lilia enjoys it, Epel and Riddle not so much- at least give them a warning beforehand!) now i have an image of my head of Vil waltzing in completely unperturbed and spilling some hot gossip while sitting on your leg and filing his nails

#genshin impact #twst au #chit chat #darling mutuals #epel starts yelling #put him down!!! he doesn't need to be picked up by YOU to be tall!!! #riddle would probably scream at first #lilia is just vibing!! would flip upside down and hang from your hands!! #aaaa i'm also thinking about childe missing you because you're in another world rn :(( #other's stuff #short scenario

[queen-of-my-goofball-army]

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR TODAY'S EPISODE OF HELLUVA BOSS. ALSO FOUL LANGUAGE USED IN THIS EDIT. IF EITHER OF THOSE THINGS AREN'T FOR YOU THEN THIS POST WON'T BE FOR YOU EITHER. THIS EPISODE RUINED ME AND I OH SO BADLY WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT.

Okay is everyone gone? Excellent!

"Look I'm hard on you because I know what you're capable of Mox. You care too much about what everyone thinks, except for you know me because my opinion is correct, but just keep doing a good job.

Okayyy I've had one too many emotions for today. Guys let's fuck these fuckers up!" (Blitzo Helluva Boss.)

Throughout much of my life I've been known as that one "sweet" and "innocent" friend. But in my humble opinion everyone has a dark side. My dark side happens to reside in dark cartoons. Invader Zim, and anything that Viv makes. Helluva Boss took me almost completely by surprise. In fact, in some ways I prefer it to Hazbin Hotel. I love the bonds and relationships between the character and I'm going to be talking about one character in particular, Blitz.

When I first started this show last year after the first episode came out, I almost immediately loved Blitz. He was interesting, but most of all he was funny. Probably the funniest character on the show if you're asking me (I still do his "got the book, got the book, got this fucking heavy book" sometimes because I was laughing so hard I cried.) He also had this protective edge to him. He cared about his workers a lot more than he let on and we got confirmation of that today. He so clearly would do anything for the three people that matter more to him than anybody else.

The major strength in this show is Blitz's relationship with everyone and with himself. From his relationship with Stoliz finally getting some nonsexual development, to his adorable father/daughter relationship with his hellhound Luna, to his individual bond with Moxxie and Millie. Before today's episode I thought that he was overly cruel to Moxxie for really no sensible reason. I knew that there was some deeper hidden issues to why he acted that way because it's Blitz there's always deeper issues. Even though their interactions before this episode were genuinely hilarious I couldn't help but look at their relationship differently after all this episode entailed. Blitz is the protective dad that is always looking out for both his subordinates and his daughter. He also clearly cares about Stolas more than he lets on. That's another thing that I loved about the character development done with this episode (we'll talk more about Stolitz later on).

When you really think about it, everyone in Blitz's life has either let him down or left him at some point. This obviously left him mentally and emotionally scarred in more ways than one. He decided eventually that he should use his smart mouth to push everyone away from him. That way he could never get hurt again. That's actually one of my favorite character tropes other than the goofballs. And Blitz is a goofball but he's also foulmouthed, guarded, a little bit more than a bigoted asshole but it's not without reason. If we get to learn more about how Blitz's life really started. There was so many good character moments in this episode for him and I think that it really helped move his arc forward.

My favorite relationship thus far after this episode has to be Blitz's relationship with Moxxie. I'm so looking forward to where this friendship goes. Obviously they are both musical theater geeks who have that part of their lives in common but I think that after this episode they'll be so much closer. (Can I just talk about theater both of them pls that would be so fun! Just to compare notes about favorite shows. I have the same opinion about Cats Blitz btw highly overrated show.) But my second favorite has to be his relationship with Millie. Their relationship is just so cute and funny how he's always knowing exactly what she needs and offering her water in the middle of the battle and guns when she's using that halberd scythe style weapon. I love looking at the platonic relationships for Blitz because in my opinion they are just as important if not more so important than the main relationships. This entire show is about the element of family. Family can come in every shape and size and that's something that I love about this show. It's not just about a murdering group of imps that are killing people and swearing every five minutes. It's about a group of characters that love and rely on each other for various reasons. It's about the elements of family even if it's broken and bruised that is still your family.

The relationship between Stolas and Blitz to me was a bit of an anomaly before today. I thought that they were funny together but that it wasn't exactly consensual. That was until today's episode. Watching the one that came out today, I found that I was taking a different stance on their relationship. When Stolas came to rescue his Blitzy (never piss off Stolas okay that's just a warning because that shit was terrifying), for the first time I saw a relationship that was consensual on both ends. We saw Blitz actually flirt with the owl prince and it was hilarious to see Stolas go from most terrifying thing in all existence into absolute sub for his lover. I'm looking forward to seeing where this relationship is going because I'm a huge fan of both characters.

Helluva Boss is one of those cartoons that has changed my life over the last year. It's a show that never fails to make me laugh so hard that my sides are aching. My parents are always like what are you laughing at every time that there's a new episode. It's just such a ridiculous show but at the same time my heart broke seeing Blitz in pain. I know that we're going to to definitely see him suffer a lot more since he's going to be the angst development for the show. I'm dreading it but at the same time I'm looking forward to seeing it at the same time. I hope that Blitz does eventually get his happy ending with Stolas and the rest of his found family.

#helluva boss episode six spoilers #helluva boss spoilers #helluva boss #helluva boss blitzo #helluva boss found family #stolitz

[janamelie]

Dimension Jump XXI Report

I suppose I’m a DJ veteran now as this was my fifth consecutive one and the fourth at the Nottingham Crowne Plaza which is an expensive four-star hotel.  Sharing with a friend helps keep the cost reasonable and honestly, it’s worth it for the sheer convenience of being right there in the hotel and being able to nip back to your room as required.  (To be clear, you don’t have to stay in the hotel to attend the con.  There are plenty of other hotels nearby.)

Plus there is always the chance that you’ll see a guest at breakfast as I did Danny once.  He picked out a few pieces of fruit and nibbled at them before wandering over late to his photoshoot.  What else would you expect from a cat though?

Friday

Myself and @downonthepharm-red-dwarf (Amy) had arrived the previous day so had plenty of time to be near the front of the queue for registration.  Which meant we saw Hattie Hayridge arrive in a stunning designer coat and with smart luggage.  She really brought her outfit A-game and looked great the whole weekend.

Once we’d presented our respective proofs of full Covid vaccination or a recent negative test, we were given our DJ passes and booklets.  The latter has spaces for signatures from guests, an Order Of Events and various handy tips for the weekend.

The con kicks off at 5pm with an hour of gradual build-up in the Main Hall - they show videos from previous events, specially made titbits with various guests past and present such as Mark Dexter doing a mock guide to DJ and Rebecca Blackstone voicing Pree.  It all helps with the atmosphere, as do the numerous RD posters dotted around the hotel.

Then it was time for the Opening Ceremony featuring various Fan Club team members and an overcrowded stage full of cardboard boxes - the joke was that they’d had too much time on their hands during lockdowns and bought loads of stuff online.  It was obviously also a nod to Lister’s hoarding in “The Promised Land”.  

The sketch featured a specially made shot of the AA adverts’ Starbug model landing outside the Crowne Plaza and an 80s computerised version of the lovely convention logo.  You could tell a lot of loving effort had gone into the whole thing.

Once the guest line-up had been announced (I’ll get to that not-really-a-surprise-guest shortly), we went straight into the RD Pub Quiz, hosted by Hattie.  DOTP and I had been joined at our table by Lapsang and Barbs from our Discord (No Kind Of Atmosphere) plus various other attendees we’d befriended.

Someone in the crowd yelled “I love you, Hattie!” to which she quipped “I’ve pulled already!”  Another bloke shouted “Fuck off, she’s mine!” which led to a few shouts of “Fight!”  When neither seemed keen to do so, Hattie joked: “Only two?  That’s a bit pathetic!” and then we got started.

The quiz is hard, by design, but I’m good at quizzes and my team - No Kind Of Atmosphere after our Discord - came joint third which was gratifying.  (I was on the winning team a few DJs ago, to blow my own trumpet for a moment.  This is my report, after all.)

And then it was time for the first guest Q&A with - surprise, surprise - Johnny Vegas aka the Crit Cop in “Timewave”.  Not a great episode but he more than made up for that with an appearance I can only describe as chaotic.  Warning - DO NOT attempt to heckle him unless you want to be singled out and humiliated in front of the entire audience in a “Can’t look away” fashion which was nonetheless entertaining.  The man in question tweeted about it afterwards and seems to have taken it in good spirit.

Once we’d moved on from encouraging people to leave unpleasant things in room 429, it turned out Johnny’s a big fan of the show and owned it on VHS (so did I).  He thinks of the main characters, Holly would win at “Taskmaster” and had good reasons for that conclusion.  

He was dubious about the pink costume he wore in “Timewave” as he thought it might take away from the character but said he eventually decided he needed to get over what he was wearing and just go for it.  He also said one of his worst working moments was on “Benidorm” when he had to hold his breath underwater in a freezing swimming pool and his co-star kept forgetting her two lines so they had over 30 takes.  Ouch.

Johnny left commenting that he got less love at his 50th birthday party.  But we hadn’t seen the last of him by any means as people kept buying him drinks during the Auction, leading to him successfully bidding for one of the items on offer.

And then he was back for the Karaoke.  Now if you - as he informed us - had to undergo emergency dental surgery in the morning and had practically lost your voice, would you sing karaoke?  And not only that, would you sing a version of “Love On The Rocks” which lasted 11 minutes according to someone on Twitter (I wasn’t timing it, but I can believe it), followed by the full-length version of “American Pie”?

If you answered no, you’re clearly not Johnny Vegas.  He went to bed so late that the unfortunate Fan Club team member assigned to look after him got a grand total of 90 minutes’ sleep.

Saturday

DOTP and I had paid for the Photoshoot with Mr Vegas, Danny John-Jules and Ray Fearon.  We got in the queue at 9am which was when it was supposed to start.  An hour later we were still waiting.  Yep, Danny was late.

Once he made it to the hotel, I got my photo in front of a Science Room backdrop.  You might think Mr Vegas would be hungover and rushing through it, but on the contrary, he was still enjoying the hell out of proceedings which was refreshing to see.  Since he’d been added to the line-up too late to be in the souvenir booklet, he signed extra inserts for the Fan Club which they handed out to everyone at the later Autograph sessions so attendees got his autograph after all even though he’d finally left.  That’s what I call throwing yourself into an event.

Next up was a combined Q&A with Danny and Ray (originally separate but Danny’s lateness meant they were teamed up).  This wasn’t a problem at all though - on the contrary, it worked really well as the chumminess between them added to the vibe.  Also it was Ray’s first convention so he probably preferred to have Danny backing him up, especially since the poor man tripped on his way to the stage and almost fell.  I don’t think he was hurt but I cringed with secondhand embarrassment and empathy.  He wasn’t the only one to fall foul of the edge of the stage that weekend; I think it was the slightly raised dancefloor in front of it.

As is usual for Danny, we were treated to over half an hour of what you can only really describe as a stream of consciousness as he pontificated about various things.  He and Ray did also talk about working together on “Death In Paradise” and Ray described his worst working experience there - he had to play a scene in a club in 45 degree heat with a live snake wrapped around his neck!

Ray is attractive in a “Hollywood hunk” way and Danny was clearly conscious of this, joking that he’d “brought his own security with him” and muttering “I’m better-looking anyway!”  But all in a jokey way as they’re clearly friends.

Danny had come from filming and dropped a heavy hint that he’s appearing in a Dickens adaptation which I imagine will be shown at Christmas as they generally are.  He also complained that Craig Charles never answers his phone: “You send him a message and he answers it on Twitter a month later!”  (Interestingly, Chris Barrie later mentioned a recent phone conversation with Craig so make of that what you will.)

Ray was quieter but happy to talk about the vagaries of showbiz and typecasting - he said that due to his Shakespearean background he gets a lot of serious roles so people were genuinely surprised that he could also do comedy but “I was always funny!”  He also gently teased Danny about the age of some of his references before admitting he still finds Tommy Cooper funny.

Danny usually performs “Tongue-tied” with a good grace when inevitably asked to by an audience member but perhaps it’s finally starting to pall as this time he did it in the style of Oliver Reed’s Bill Sykes and included a lot of X-rated references to cunnilingus etc.  It was entertaining though.

Next up was a live Q&A (over Zoom) with Chris Barrie.  Danny decided to stick around as he wanted to show Chris something he’d ordered online.  It took a while to get the cameras in the right position for Chris to be able to see it and Danny needed a knife to open the parcel, leading Chris to quip “Is this a good time for me to step out for some lunch?”

However, it turned out to be worth it as it was a custom-made Ace Rimmer doll which impressed Chris with its quality and he complimented the maker.

Danny and Ray then departed for their lunch and to take part in the Coffee Lounge which this year had reduced its numbers for Covid-related reasons and held a ballot for entry in the interests of fairness.  Amy and I didn’t get in but happily stayed for the rest of Chris’s Q&A.

In the “working from home” spirit, Chris was in a hoodie in his living room as opposed to his more usual smart suit.  He was suitably relaxed and revealed he got through lockdown by concentrating on the things which make him happy, such as his hobbies, his garden and his family.  His favourite episodes are “Marooned”, “Dimension Jump” and - less predictably - “Twentica”.  He also referred to a recent “mannerly, as he would call it” phone conversation with Craig.  No details but it had clearly been a positive experience.

Amy decided to liven up the ending of his Q&A by asking a vitally important, “TPL”-related question.  Whom would Rimmer find more attractive, a female version of Lister or a female version of Cat?

Once the laughter had died down and Chris had bought some time by pointing out that “neither of them are women”, he gave the question appropriate consideration.  He pondered whether Rimmer would be more taken by the “simple charms” of Lister or the “feline grace” of Cat.  This next bit is courtesy of Amy as my memory isn’t infallible: He said it’d be a choice between a feline form or a rounder, a bit more slovenly woman - he wouldn’t want the perfectly feline woman because she might not like his imperfections, but he also wouldn’t want someone who ate curry three times a day.  “Basically, a balance would be ideal.”

That was the last question but Chris provided a little more entertainment as he had a “How do you turn this off then?” moment a la Gordon the computer in “Better Than Life” and made amusing faces as he figured it out.  If it was anyone but Chris I’d think it was a deliberate reference to that but I think he was genuinely befuddled.

We then broke for lunch, followed by Autographs with Hattie, Danny, Ray and Norman Lovett.  I got the latter three to sign the “TPL” poster I’d brought with me but gave Hattie the booklet instead as it seemed more tactful.  She complimented the dress I was wearing and I returned the compliment, telling her how much the fans appreciate the effort she makes with her DJ outfits.

Norman commented how there’s a version of the “TPL” poster he isn’t on, bemusedly.  Fortunately mine was the version including him. 

I spent the rest of the afternoon chilling in the bar with Amy, Lapsang and Barbs, chatting to other attendees.  Graphic Designer Matthew Clark was now in the Merchandise Room with various props from Series XII and “TPL” including the Starbug manual used onscreen.  I got his autograph on my poster but it’s an incomprehensible squiggle.  Oh well.  He was very friendly and easy to talk to.

After a break for dinner, the Main Hall reopened for the Costume Competition.  This seems to get better every DJ, with an amazing “Greyscale Rimmer” who was discomfiting to be around due to the corpse-like makeup, a Natalina Pushkin, a Nirvanah Crane who could almost have been Jane Horrocks herself and a Diving Suit Cat from “BTE”.  Other entries included Rimmer’s Mum, “Giraffes who were armed and dangerous” and a Confidence And Paranoia who were later pictured at the bar chatting to Paranoia himself, Lee Cornes.

We then had a special video message from Doug Naylor which I won’t go into as I’m sure everyone’s already heard the details.  Suffice to say, his tone was positive.

The second Auction was hosted by Ian Boldsworth who made it more entertaining by adding his own commentary to each item.  This was followed by a stand-up set from Norman.  It was amusing but he misjudged the mood a bit, I feel.  When you’re waiting for a disco to start and it’s already hours late due to Danny’s tardiness, you don’t particularly want to contemplate your own mortality.  We were here to get away from all that, as much as possible.

Anyway, the Disco was a lot of fun even if Dave Benson Phillips’ presence as host was sorely missed.  Hattie danced for the best part of an hour alongside everyone else.  The stand-in DJs did their job and I stayed until the end.  The final two songs were “Bohemian Rhapsody” and … “Tongue-tied”.

Sunday

Not being in the Sunday Photoshoot, Amy and I had a nice leisurely breakfast and got over last night’s festivities before the first Q&A, live over Zoom with Robert Llewellyn.

This was hosted by Ian Boldsworth who in his capacity as Dave era audience warm-up knows Robert well.  Clearly well enough to get away with teasing him relentlessly about not being at the con in person until poor Robert was a mess of Krytenesque guilt.  

His protestations that he’d been scheduled to be in Munich this weekend but no longer was (he was at home) only made things worse.  Ian: “Oh, so that’s two sets of people you’ve disappointed now!  Stop saying yes to things!”  It was hilarious and Robert took it in its intended spirit.  Also Ian was getting a measure of revenge for Robert - in character as Kryten - dry humping him at recordings.  One attendee asked “With the groinal attachment?!”

Robert admitted that he finds Kryten’s various groinal attachments hilarious and if he was writing the show they’d be in every episode.  He praised Doug’s restraint.

He also admitted that in “TPL” he had an earpiece to have his lines fed to him.  Since it’s controlled by an iPad, certain unscrupulous cast members took great delight in feeding him rude ones.

He still intends to update “The Man In The Rubber Mask” but atm “Fully Charged” is consuming a lot of his time as it’s become much more successful than he anticipated and he’s in charge of several people.

Surprisingly, he would hate appearing in RD without the Kryten makeup, both because it’s become much quicker to apply and because it provides him with a shield and he becomes Kryten and forgets stagefright.  He still can’t watch “DNA” for that reason.

Lapsang, who played Kryten in “Into The Gloop”, asked Robert if he’d seen it.  He hadn’t but said he was now very curious and would find a way to.

Next up was Lee Cornes aka Paranoia who said he originally auditioned for the lead roles and like the other unsuccessful actors got the consolation prize of a guest appearance.  Upon being asked if he’d gone out for a drink with Craig Ferguson’s Confidence, he said no because at the time they had a frosty relationship due to rumours that Craig was plagiarising other comics’ jokes.  Lee said it was all very silly and he’s since apologised.

Interestingly, Lee is a qualified science teacher and carried on with that career alongside his media one, leading to surreal situations where his pupils would ask: “Sir?  Were you on the telly last night?”  “Yes.”  “Are we on the telly now, sir?”

Someone asked a good question - what would Lister’s Paranoia be like now 33 years later?  Lee would be willing to reprise the role but isn’t sure it would work as the original had a childish quality whereas he feels now the character would be a lot darker and less funny.  Lee was both thoughtful and entertaining in his responses.

He was followed onstage by Hattie and Norman, who resolutely refused to rise to the bait of an audience member attempting to stir up a rivalry between them.  That only works when one isn’t the nicest person you could meet.

A tactless audience member asked both if they’d watched “TPL” instead of directing the question at Norman.  Luckily Hattie had seen it and particularly enjoyed the cat flap joke although she felt there was a little too much focus on the guest cast.

Norman didn’t really watch RD after he left but Hattie has seen Norman’s early episodes as he lent them to her back when she was originally cast as Hilly for research purposes.  Bear in mind this was 1988 when they weren’t even available on VHS so presumably he recorded them off the TV.  

Hattie confirmed with a sigh that she’s simply never been asked to return in any capacity: “That’s the short answer.”  What the hell, I’ll say it one more time - Bring Back Hattie!  One episode, that’s all I ask.  As it stands, it’s starting to look like a pointed and deliberate snub which mystifies me.

We then broke for lunch, followed by Rob Grant and Paul Jackson.  For obvious reasons they didn’t go into the current legal mess, opting instead to entertain the fans with the story of how they met and their early pre-RD work (Rob and Doug as freelance writers for Paul’s producer).

We saw some clips from their early shows including “Three Of A Kind” with Lenny Henry, Tracy Ullman and … later magician David Copperfield; apparently they all had the same agent and Paul took on David as a favour.  For a 40 year old show it held up pretty well and was in much better sound and picture quality than older shows often are. “Carrott’s Lib” was just as funny.

It’s a bit hard to summarise but this session was entertaining and gripping.  Rob still wants to write another RD novel and I believe there’s nothing actually stopping him as both he and Doug had an option to write a second solo novel.  So we’ll see.

The final Q&A was Matthew Clark who was very informative and interesting, showing us numerous production stills from Series XII and “TPL” and talking us through them.  There was a groan when time was called before he was finished.

By now time was running short and Amy and I went back to the room to pack and leave our luggage with reception before watching the start of “Dibbley Family Fortunes”. Since I knew I wouldn’t have time to watch it all, I instead nipped upstairs to Autographs with Lee and Ian, timing it perfectly as the queue had almost vanished.

Ian was still performing, drawing scornful attention to the fact that Lee had a longer queue: “Can you imagine all these people queueing to see Lee Cornes?!”  It sounds rude out of context but he was clearly joking.

I decided to ask Lee what flavour the yogurt Paranoia eats was.  He said it didn’t really taste of anything as it was the cheapest, nastiest canteen yogurt available and was also starting to curdle under the studio lights so eating it can’t have been much fun.

Since I now had about 15 minutes before I had to go, I caught a bit of Dibbley Family Fortunes, said goodbye to Amy, Lapsang and Barbs and then dashed off to catch the tram to the train station.  Another great DJ.

#red dwarf

[aimasup]

Maybe i'm late but, did anyone, like actually have left remus in a small place (for his claustrophobia) for like 4 hours or something just because he did something bad? If yes did anyone just stayed here and heard him suffer? Or actually tried to help him out in secret? Sorry if it is long ^^'

Deceit’s smarmy snake grin never left his confident face. Oh god, Remus was giving him the look. No one ever liked being given the look, something that no Side should ever be subject to, carrying the promise of your emotional vulnerability, a sackful of seeing through your bullshit and a dash of demented purity rivaled only by Patton. And Vir

Deceit cleared his throat, loudly and with purpose. “Well? Go on, Remus.”

Remus rolled his eyes, a childish staple of his that always looked comical. “Oh come on, Nope Rope, you and I both know you spout more shit than a bull with diarrhea after one of your nightmares. So you might as well follow it up with some tea.”

So much wrong had just come out of Remus’ mouth. The man smelled like tonsil stones on a good day yet he still managed to surprise the Sides with horrifying bouts of intellect every now and then. The slimy little bugger.

"Clearly you've remembered what I told you about calling me names."

Remus leaned happily. "Nakey Snakey."

"Remus..."

"Boop Noodle!"

"Remus."

"Dangle Fangle!"

"Remus! Shut up!"

Remus feigned offense. "I'm trying out ones that start with a D!"

"That's not my point! Now distract me with musical ditties as you were instructed, you foul wretch!"

"Slithervester Stallone-!" Remus had time to squeal before Deceit squashed his face with a pillow and snatched the remote. The game was on as if by instinct and Remus tackled him from under the pillow, shrieking muffled. Deceit whacked him on the head, hard, with the remote. Remus was distracted momentarily, so Deceit took the chance and shoved him off of him with more force than necessary, insulting him all the while.

"-you nitwit, you just can't listen, can you, you moron, you bitch, you're so thick-headed, do that again and I swear-"

"You'll what, you'll lock me in the closet?"

All of a sudden, it was like an invisible giant had drowned the room in heavy syrup. The tightness from before returned and Deceit, still breathing hard, glared at Remus with gritted teeth and panicked eyes. The Side was below him, pillow on his chest, grin gone and singlet askew.

That one sentence, although it needed no context to tell who had been on the receiving end of it, brought more distress to the deceitful side than it did to the other, strangely enough. They kept their eyes trained on each other. Neither would admit that they felt like they were breathing molasses and it wasn't sweet. The television had long ago blacked out, a deafening silence following its rather meek departure.

Remus' eyes didn't stop glowing. Deceit's didn't either. None were good signs, but Remus still said, in the rare soft tone his voice could manage at times, "That's the problem, isn't it?"

Deceit swallowed. He turned away and stared at the floor, eyes narrowed to slits. He had put down the remote with controlled harshness on the sofa. He exhaled through his nose and never made eye contact with Remus.

Everyone had their little tics. Remus hated being called scary. Roman was a compulsive perfectionist. Patton had a repression habit. And Thomas didn't want to be a bad person.

Neither did Deceit.

"You know I'm over that, right?"

"... obviously."

That could mean anything, and that wasn't even getting to which part of the question he was answering. Remus bit his tongue. His canines dug into the muscle, and he pulled them out again, breathing in the scent of his own blood. Feeling a bit better, he turned away from Deceit and stared at the black screen of the TV.

"No, really you don't have to worry about it. You worrying about it pisses me off."

Still no response.

"Deceit?" Remus couldn't help but feel a bit concerned at this exchange.

------------------

"Who--who are you?" Fun blurbled at the figure on all fours before him. Fresh tear stains still stained his cheeks, an ear-to-ear smile etched below his eyes.

Something was off. Heart had run away with someone who looked like him, and had left him alone. He'd never do that. He'd always stuck with him through anything, no matter what he said or did. But the look Heart had given him... it was as if he didn't know what to make of him all of a sudden. Less than that, even.

The figure, still cautious and poised to pounce, didn't answer. Its impossibly wide reptilian eyes glowed bright in the dark, illuminating nothing on its entirely pitch black body, and Fun could make out nothing but a few familiar features.

"Are you a--a Side too?"It flinched and hissed at him. Fun found that he didn't duck away from the grotesque mouth that opened too wide. Or more like, there wasn't anything in his head that told him it was gross. He found it cute because it was gross, in fact.

When the brown-rimmed mouth closed, it was as if it was never there. It glared at him through narrowed eyes and spat at his feet.

"Oh."

With all the pure spite radiating off of the thing, it still approached, walking perfectly on its hands and legs. It didn't look clumsy moving like that, and Fun suspected it had always been that way.

"Wh--what are you doing?"Fun tried not to find this tiny demonic thing adorable. Didn't help matters when it planted its face on his sticky, black knee (... huh.) and walked off.

Before Fun could process what just happened, it turned around with the calmest expression and stared. And waited. It wanted him to follow.

As adorable as the thing was, Fun still had his doubts. He didn't want to leave. This was where his friends were. Curious little Learning, sweet as sugar Heart, cowardly yet caring Careful. But he had a feeling they didn't want to see him again.

It broke his heart.

So with a greasy squelch, Fun struggled to his feet and went with the creature.

------------------

"Deceit, you need to stop holding yourself over that. We can't be like the Others."

The further lack of response frustrated Remus. He probably should be trying to comfort Deceit, but that wasn't his type. Tough lo--learning would have to do, it was how it always went. They couldn't afford to be wishy-washy with stuff like feelings.

"Deceit, if you don't stop feeling bad about it I'm gonna smack the shit out of you. With my bare hands. And this morning star."

"Aren't you trying too hard not to be Roman?"

Remus slammed his weapon into the pillow. "Well I think you're trying too hard to be Patton!"

"Wouldn't you think Virgil would have wanted that?" Deceit was weary. Remus breathed in sharply through his teeth and stuttered.

"What?"

"It's clear we weren't the best to him. It's not his fault he left. It was for the best. He needs better than us. He deserves better than us."

"What the fuck!" Remus threw up his hands. "What the fuck, Deceit! What happened to being your own person? What happened to not giving a shit about living up to anyone's standards?! You don't know what you're talking about, because you're tired, and you're just a hypocrite who was never able to see past your own horseshit!"

"I know."

Remus wanted to rip his hair out. Deceit's or his own, he didn't really care. "Jesus Christ! Ugh!"

He flumped into a pillow and screamed into it.

Deceit watched him.

------------------

"You know, it's kinda weird how you don't wanna be called a Side, you know? Like, you look like Heart, and we all know that Heart looks the most like Thomas. So you gotta be pretty important. If you look the most like Thomas. Next to Heart. You know what I'm saying?"

It was still silent. The quiet walk down the tattered corridor had been awkward, and now that they were up the stairs and in some padded room that was probably the creature's, Fun tried to fill the silence as the creature studied him. It prowled around Fun as he sat cross legged on the floor, leaking tar all over the place.

"And, well, Learning is super important too. And Careful. We're all super important." It brushed by his shoulder and stared at his back with interest for a good two seconds before sitting back on its haunches.

"But Learning only looks the second most like Thomas. Careful just likes his hair to be all dangly. Though he clips it back sometimes to fit in? I think? I dunno."

"Anyways, I just thought that maybe once we're done here, with." Fun looked at the creature. "Whatever this is. I could bring you back with me to the others! I just got rid of the bad stuff in me, and once I get all cleaned up, and you too, we'll be all okay again!"

The creature stopped prodding at his back and he could feel it staring into nothing. Fun couldn't help but note the lack of breath on his neck. Either it gave up trying to appear human a long time ago or it was just that short. He giggled at the thought.

But that faded away when he started feeling slight concern. It was too silent. He hated silence. Fun turned to look over his shoulder, then shuffled his body around to peer at the creature, who was now deep in thought.

"Hey bud? What's wrong with ya? Cat got your tongue?" He chuckled. "I've heard that from Learning and Heart a lot. You're gonna love em. They'll help you lighten up! Trust me, we've been through lots together, they'll like you too!"

It lifted its head up and fixated him with the saddest stare anyone could give a Side. Fun felt his excitement at meeting a new friend weather away when he felt that something was terribly, terribly wrong.

A thin line of brown appeared, and widened. It's eyes darted here and there with consideration. It was choosing its words. Fun titled his head as it strained to force out words.

"Not."

"Uh. Huh? You can talk!"

"Fun."

"Wait, what are you saying?"

It bounced in place with clear frustration. After clutching its head and shaking it, it tried again.

"You. Not." It tried once more. "You. Not! You! Not! Fun!"

Fun withered under its glare, a little hurt. "I'm not fun to be with? I'm sorry, uh-"

"No!"

Fun's heart ached for the thing, confused and intrigued. All of them learned how to speak along with Thomas. How was it that this Side didn't?

"Gone."

"..."

"Fun. Gone."

"I really don't understand."

"Fun." It drew a capital F in the air. He nodded, a little less lost. It nodded too.

"Fun. Split. Gone. You. Green. Half. Heart. You. Red. Half. You." It was closer now. It stuck a finger onto Fun's chest, sorrowful expression looking like it was supposed to be welling up with tears. Its jaw trembled. "Half. Bad. Half."

"Not. Their. Fun."

Fun wasn't so sure about anything anymore. He understood it perfectly, he just really didn't want to. "You can't be serious."

It was. It looked as if it has never been more certain of anything in its life. It lowered its head.

Panic gripped him like no other and his mind began racing. He gestured wildly.

"Then--then who's that other half?! They can't go on without Fun! Thomas can't go on without Fun!" The partial emptiness that he'd been trying to ignore a long time ago had grown more apparent as he ranted. "I can't let that happen! What will they do?"

Half. Bad. Half.

It struck. 'Fun' felt his chest drop to his stomach. "They. I'm the bad half."

The creature was still as a statue."They--they think--they think the red me is--is Fun, they, Learning, Careful, H-Heart--they don't know me."

The black and green outfitted grease blob blubbered on. "It's--it's not fair! I know them! I drew pictures with Thomas, I came up with our names, I--I'm--I know what Fun knows!"

He desperately turned to the creature in front of him. "They can't do this! I-if the other me is Fun, then I'm Fun too! I'm still Fun! I still know them! I still love them! At the very least, I'm still one of Thomas' Sides!" The creature silently stared as he kept talking, as his words blurred together with cries of anguish, as he put his forehead to the floor, bunching his sash in his hands. All tears had run out earlier, and there were only bawls of despair that dissolved into whimpers.

The humanoid grease blob didn't know what to call himself anymore. But it still wasn't fair at all. The truth was that. They thought that their Fun had returned from the battle, sword held high and rid of the beast. To them, Fun was better than ever.

But what was he?

------------------

"When you explained in your dumb loophole way that my stupid ass brother wasn't me, it was the first time you had advice you didn't follow, did you?"

"Remus, you can't pretend you don't feel the same."

"Fuck off!" Remus groaned. "I'm not pretending for anything, Dee, I've said it multiple times, I have nothing I want to hide! But you can't be serious about wanting to be like Patton!"

Deceit pondered his answer. "I may or may not have considered it."

Remus let go of Deceit's shirt slowly. He still fixated him with fierce angry eyes as his fingers loosened, setting the smaller Side down a little. So he didn't actually think it. Just a passing thought. Okay then.

Deceit straightened his collar and smoothed out the wrinkles in his outfit. And he was back to looking sullenly at the a spot on the carpet.

Remus swallowed. God, this was harder than it needed to be. He wondered if this was how Deceit felt when he was younger, rawer in his state, unable to speak in anything but opposites. He didn't have to teach Deceit how to not speak in opposites, because the more they raised each other, the more Deceit's black scales had resided and his speech freedom loosened up.

They always talked it out, they always had to stick close. So why was it so hard now?

------------------

The squeal of unbridled joy when it was introduced to noir films, the long bath chases, the practice with his creations and tentacles, the nights spent splayed out messily on the same bed after a nightmare. It was simple. So simple.

------------------

Deceit could feel the stare from Remus leaving him. God, if that moron tried to comfort him now he was going to explode. His eye would leak tears like a broken faucet and he would be a pathetic blubbering mess, and Remus would have blackmail until the day Thomas finally died.

He swore he could feel the long exhale and mutterings as Remus thought on what to say. He really didn't care, in the end. Deceit wanted nothing more than to do his job and think nothing of anything ever again. He didnt--

"Virgil's gone, and there's nothing we can or could do about it. Because of how we are. It's jackshit to say we can change our nature. Nothing. Nada. Zero." Firm hands with black acrylics gripped his shoulder and turned his tired eyes onto Remus' own.

"Feeling sorry for yourself won't change anything. Things happen, jackoff."

Deceit's breath hitched, but he didn't quite feel like crying, oddly enough. Strange that through gritted teeth and eyes that could gleam death to anyone who doesn't know Remus well, he felt more clarification than all his thoughts combined. His mind had chanted a mantra of things his whole life, and what Remus said was only one of them. Deceit had been hoping to finally hear them from an outside source. But somehow, someway, Remus had found a way to make this line of reasoning sound less harsh.

Unpredictable as always.

"Remus. I.."

He placed his hands gently on Remus' wrists, patted twice. Remus let go and studied him, an air of sternness and also nervousness apparent in his face. They simmered in the unsaid apology, sitting on the couch in their lonely, mangy living room, like it was a vague yet satisfactory ending to a movie. That was how all their arguments would usually end, but it was rarely in any way fulfilling.

Deceit thought on it. Swallowing the hard lump in his throat, he choked out a laugh. "God, we're such a mess."

Glad the tension was broken, Remus smiled, ugly shark teeth in full view. "Yeah we are. We're the Mindscape's dumpster fires."

They were delirious with more emotion than they experienced on a daily basis, and they both chortle along to Remus' weak joke. Jesus, if you could lose fat due to mental work as well as physical, Thomas would be underweight by now.

Remus shook his head. "Honestly, you can't think too much about it. Just think of all the times we battered each other in this place, and you'll feel better about the closet thing."

Deceit snorted. "How is it that I'm more affected by it than you? Like all the times you ripped out my hair."

"Or all the times you silenced us whenever you felt like it."

"Or all those times you slammed me in to a hard surface."

"Remember that one time you left me in the closet for a week?"

"I still remember how I silenced Virgil for a month."

Remus snapped his fingers. "Yeah, Virgil, I remember how many times he gave us hallucinations. Sometimes he'd give us panic attacks for the hell of it!" He laughed.

"He was always quite the hothead."

"That's not even counting his stabs. Not just with a knife."

"Knowing you, that could mean anything."

Remus swooshed his hands in a rainbow-shaped gesture gleefully."Oooooh, whatever you want it to mean!" The joke was lacking and childish, but Remus' delivery was so goofy.

Deceit chuckled, back of his hand pressed daintily to his mouth as always. Remus giggled in short bursts of high-pitched derangement along with him.

Then it dissolved into awkward silence as they pondered their situation, up at ass o' clock in the morning, sprawled over the couch in undignified manners, dim light flickering because they were too depressed to fix it, talking about unreasonable hostile behavior so casually like they were fond memories of family vacations.

"... let's go make breakfast."

"Okay, Caution Ramen."

"I'm sorry?"

"Hazard Spaghetti. Murder Spagurder."

"...what."

"Judgemental Shoelace."

"Oh, shut the fuck up."

------------------

"No! Get away!" The sobbing figure cowered away from the green and yellow-tinted Sides, if you could call them that.

Bad Thoughts put his hands out. "Woah, woah, hey, we won't hurt you! Much."

Deceit slapped Bad Thoughts as the Side, who was slowly fading into a full black and purple from the legs up, put his hands in his hair and screamed louder. "Shut up! Go away! I'm sorry! Please! I hate you! Go away!"

"Well that's a lot of mixed signals." Bad Thoughts muttered. Careful looked a lot different from what he had remembered. He was seeming more tired and grievous. A faint spark of recognition flashed across Careful's eyes when he peeked up at him, but ducked away when Bad Thoughts stretched the arm with his morning star.

Without a word, Deceit knelt down and wrapped his arms around Careful. He flinched, but he stopped sobbing at least. He was still breathing hard when BT decided to join in, planting himself as softly as he knew how to on Caution.

"You're okay," Deceit murmured. "You're alright. You won't hurt anyone. You won't do that."

Caution hiccupped, staring at the ceiling, eyes brimming with angry tears. He hissed though gritted teeth."How--how do you know? You don't understand, I cause so many problems--"

"Yeah, we do. We know that. But that's you." Remus said. "Who cares if you do? Causing problems is what we do around here. You can't blame yourself for doing what you do best."

Caution was still dubious. He was sniffling. Slowly, he put his arms on Deceit's back. "I don't want to make more trouble."

Deceit lowered his head onto his shoulder. "Just come with us. We cause trouble, but whether you want to do that is up to you."

The black was receding, but the purple still lingered a little. All four of Caution's eyes blinked.

Remus pulled away, leaving only his hand on Careful's shoulder. His old friend, who didn't know who he was, who was meeting him for the first time. "Besides, I don't think you meant to cause that breakdown."

Caution finally turned and looked, actually looked at him for the first time since they were children. "You don't?"

"Nope!"

The purple color was down to his knees again. The black was gone.

"But," Caution started, both Sides pulling back to give him space. "But, it was so unnecessary, and--and the whole damn class was watching, and the other sides were freaked out-"

"Yeah, so? It was cool! Don't you think it's some way of letting everyone know that Thomas was upset? Things were getting hairy and you pulled it off perfectly." Remus gave an exaggerated chef's kiss in the air.

"That power is something only you hold, storm cloud." Deceit said. "Like Remus said, it's who you are. It was quite the display."

Caution eyed them suspiciously. "Yeah, well, you guys would think so."

"Don't you see? If you come with us, you can learn to control that! You can choose your own rules, you can choose when you want to have influence over Thomas!" Deceit lowered his voice. "You can protect Thomas by forcing the others to hear how much you try."

Caution didn't make eye contact, finding it difficult when two people stared at once. But he was thinking about it, clearly. The others had been trying to ignore him lately, and no one had to be a genius to figure that out. The rise and fall of his chest grew a little quicker as he realized how unfair it was that he was just trying to be a Side, and Thomas didn't care. The spite and betrayal was evident in his eyes, the same that had plagued Bad Thoughts and Deceit so many times in their childhood.

It was decided.

He looked up with grim determination. "C-call me Fear."

Previous parts here and here

Claustrophobic Remus post here

#long post #very long post #my art #my post #sanders sides #sanders sides angst #kid sides #thomas sanders #character!thomas #roman and remus #creativitwins #creativitwins angst #remus sanders #sympathetic remus sanders #duke remus #sympathetic deceit sanders #deceit sanders #deceit #roman sanders #princey sanders #patton sanders #morality sanders #logan sanders #logic sanders #virgil sanders #anxiety sanders #dark side virgil #dark sides #janice sanders #janus sanders

[pettyprocrastination]

can we get any sort of hc for frankie & baby bat, i love the headcanons that you have for them🥵🥵🥵

YES YES YOU CAN MY LOVE

HEHEHEHE ive been thinking about babybat and frankie literally all day i was hoping somebody would say something and you HEARD ME I LOVE YOU

It’s 12:30 am so if these are messy and bad i apologize i just got way too excited akskks. 

Some tags: @captainsamwlsn @goldafterglow @thesadvampire @cinewhore @thirstworldproblemss @justanotherblonde23 @lilkermit14 @buckysalefty @qveenbvtch @clydesducktape @themarcusmoreno if i missed anybody else who wanted to be tagged in bb content please let me know! It’s late so my brain and working as hard as she should 

Content warning: foul language, talk of insomnia and PTSD, allusions to sex, camwork, light angst(?) 

Frankie makes sure to give you honest good compliments. 

Of course he’s not gonna pretend he doesn't say the usual porn dude stuff of “I want to cum on your tits” but he’ll also make comments of how lovely your smile is and how pretty you look in the fluffy robe wrapped around your figure at the beginning of each show. 

Sometimes he’ll ask how your day was. 

These little comments feel insanely more intimate than the mountains of crude ones you get. 

The first time you do a private show for him??? Oh my god he’s so nervous

Why is he so nervous??? He shouldn't be so jittery

Little does he know you feel the same way

You haven’t been nervous for private shows since you've started doing cam work, but something about this guy made you feel giddy. It wasn't until his camera switched on that you froze in realization that oh no he’s cute. 

When it comes to actually talking? He needs to be coaxed out of his shell. Sure he can make comments in the chat of a stream saying he wants to see your perfect pussy but saying it out loud?? To your face?? Ohhh boy.  He’s a little awkward at first, as most customers are so it takes some gentle conversation before he’s able to ask you to take your shirt off. 

“Why don’t we start with names?” You untie the robe and slowly let it fall from your shoulders. “I have to call you something, sweetheart.”

In hindsight he could've given you a nickname, or a fake name. Giving a fake name definitely would've been smarter but he was just to busy staring at you and your waiting smile and he just blurted out “Francisco” without even thinking about it. 

“Francisco?” You hummed and let your eyes shut, as if imagining all the separate situations you could say his name. “I like that. Handsome name for a handsome man.”

He knows it’s a line. That you're most likely lying, just feeding him rehearsed words you give to every other man who pays for your shows. But he doesn't care. 

He wants to hear you say his name again and again and again. Moan it, scream it, say it while you give him praise and beg him to fuck you until your voice is gone. 

“Francisco?”

He’s shaken away from his mind when he looks at the camera, youre staring at him expectantly. Oh god he spaced out. How long was he like that? Did he say any of it out loud?

You seemed to notice his panic and laughed. “I know this can be a little awkward the first time. So we can take it slow.”

Your fingers curl over the hem of your shirt and slowly pull it up just enough to show him the bare skin of your chest peeking out underneath. 

“Tell me what you want Francisco.”

In your regular day to day, you work at a small bookstore. Your apartment is decked out in halloween/spooky decor year round and you have two hairless kitties, poptart and biscuit that will throw fits if you aren’t giving them attention. 

Frankie accidentally met the two rascals during a private show when you thought you had shut the door all the way. But turns out you didn't because poptart zooms across the floor and into your lap, yowling for love meanwhile biscuit goes straight for the camera, batting at it with a curious paw because?? Hello???who is this???strange man taking mother’s attention

You are mortified, topless, and holding two cats while apologizing to him because “oh my god im so so sorry they were in the other room and-” 

He laughs and shakes his head. “It’s okay, they're really cute actually.”

You smirk. “Was that directed towards my cats or my tits, Francisco?”

“Both actually, both are very very cute.”

You begin to share anecdotes and stories about your days over these shows and streams, until late one night you get a payment with a message from him. 

‘You don’t have to do anything, I just don’t want to be alone right now.’

Its 2 am, you don’t bother doing makeup or switching your pajamas for lingerie before turning on your camera and accepting the link, to be shown a black screen and his voice. 

“Hey, I hope i didn’t wake you. I’m sorry it’s just been a bad night and i cant sleep, i didn’t-fuck. This was a bad idea. I’m sorry-”

“It’s okay Francisco.” Your soft voice stops him as his finger hovers over the leave chat button. “I’m happy to be here with you. Is there anything I can do?”

“Talk.” He rasps, a switch is heard and light fills his camera to show you his exhausted form. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days, his hair is sticking up in separate directions and his eyes, looking anywhere but you, are red and puffy. 

“About?” You knew this was dangerous territory. You never messaged customers out of chats or private shows. This was not professional, this was personal, intimate. He could have reached out to anybody else, friends, family, but he chose you. Did he not have anybody else?

The notion shouldn't have made your heart swell as much as it did. Fuck this was bad.

“What do you want me to talk about?”

“Anything.”

So you did. You talked about books and movies and dumb stories from college, frankie learned you worked at a small bookstore and had your own personal reading nook in your house. 

You learned that frankie was a pilot who loves to cook and in his words, “makes a bitchin’ chicken alfredo.”

“Yeah well-” a yawn broke through your sentence and he smiled. Somewhere through the night you had wrapped yourself up in blankets as you spoke to him. “-you’ll have to make some for me sometime frankie.”

Frankie. A name he’s been called for years now but for some reason hearing it from you was like hearing it for the first time. 

He wanted to hear you say his name again. In bed, the morning after as he made our breakfast, the day after when he took you out to dinner and walked you home and-

Oh. 

Oh no. 

This is very bad. 

Unbeknownst to him, you're having the exact same revelation.

“Goodnight frankie.”

“Goodnight Baby.”

#Frankie & BB #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #francisco morales #francisco morales x reader #catfish morales #catfish x reader #catfish morales x reader #triple frontier

[graveyard-of-buried-hope]

Wildflower

An lgbtqia+ love story

I was a 15 year old girl then. I met her by a lake on a Saturday afternoon in early march. Her soft brown hair was plaited neatly, and her honey brown eyes trained on the water. On an impulse, I pushed forward and crossed the overgrown grassy path to see what she was doing. She barely acknowledged me.

After a long while, she pulled my sleeves slightly and asked,"Do u see that fish? I named him Matt." She pointed somewhere in the water. I saw only a slight movement under the foul smelling lake water. I nodded. And we fell back to our silence. It was awkward how I didnt feel awkward standing silently with a girl I hardly knew. "He must have gone to the other side. I can't find him. Come with me, I'll show u some interesting things." I didnt know how to say no, so i went with her.

We crossed the MBB college and walked into dubious alleys. She would spot some flowers or wildness here and there and talk about it, name the tiny pieces of nature. I think that was when I fell in love with her. She took me past the GB motorstand and to the Shyamali Bazaar. We took an abrupt turn and reached a lane. The road there was broken at many places.

We paced down a high land and she pointed towards a house at our right. "That's my home. It isnt interesting. But I have somethings that are marvelous." And she pulled me to a warehouse. It was like a picture out of a gothic story. Probably a fire accident, I thought. Broken glass phials were scattered everywhere in the grass, the left wall had collapsed, and the other walls were burnt. As for the building, it was in a crooked shape, dark and damp inside. But nature had taken its course. There were mosses and ferns and wild bushes everywhere.

She pulled me to a corner and removed some planks from what looked like a broken railings. Underneath it, tucked warmly within a carton was a little kitten. It purred fondly at our sight, or rather, her sight. "She was paralyzed after a bad fall when she was a few days old. Her mother abondaned her", she sighed, "I named her Shirin." She fed the cat with some dry moori.

"What is your favourite flower?" It was the white plumeria and I said so. "I love those wildflowers. They dont have a name. They are just... wild... and unloved... unappreciated. No one bothered themselves to keep a name for it." She pointed to a green bush rising from the right wall. They were beautiful! Violet and yellow. Uncannily beautiful. She plucked a flower and gave me. I threw it away immediately.

"It smells so foul!" I exclaimed. "This is her tragedy", replied the girl gravely and she plucked a few more of them, engraving them in her tangled hair.

We sat at the broken bench in a corner for a long time, talking about our lives. It felt nice to speak about my mother's passing to someone who understood pain. She had a lot of family issues, and then she came to the point. As sun was setting low, the evening spent with her, she clutched my hand tightly leaned on me and whispered, with glassy eyes, " I m leaving town tomorrow, will u look after my little family here? Please." "Why?" "My parents signed their divorce. Tomorrow I will be far away from here never to return. I cannot take Shirin. Mama shall never allow. I cannot take my wildflowers. What if I gift them to u?"

"Why me?" I asked, not out of spite, but out of curiosity. "Because, u r my only friend and I love you." And she kissed me on my cheek and buried her face on my jacket. "I will", I promise....

--------------------------------‐--------- —---------

"Shit!" The alarm rang the hundredth time. It was 8 AM. She had probably already left. I rushed past the ferri driver, and took an auto-rickshaw to GB motorstand and I ran my way. I fell asleep thinking about the girl last night, or rather this dawn. I was lost in her. Drunk in her completely.

I felt panic and then lost. There I stood, in the middle of the warehouse. There was nothing. No one. She was supposed to start her journey on a van from here. It was long gone.

I sat down, feeling hollow, empty from the bottom, when I heard the purr. I rushed to Shirin's abode. There was a note there:

everything is more beautiful because we are all doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.

She never striked me as someone who would read Homer. But I felt a pang of grief. I would have loved her. The way I thought love was supposed to be lived.

Today as I m writing this account, she is still with me. She is the sunlight that enters through my window; in Shirin's kittens; in the fishes that swim in the college tilla lake; in the fresh bunch wildflower every morning by my bed; and in the withered bunch I keep in my drawer, counting the days we will meet again.

I never asked her name. I never knew her name. Indeed she lives as the unnamed wildflower in every corner of our home.

#lgbtq #lgbt pride #academia #dark academic #cottagecore #my writing #my work #my story #writers on tumblr #lesbian #bisexual #gay

[jaskiersvalley]

Hello!! 💕 Just wanted to let you know that I love your "Jaskier has always smelled of blood" au. It means a lot to me 💛 I feel like it brings some kind of awereness to the issue and I'm really gratefull for it. Thank you 💕

Nonnie, thank you so much for your kind words. That AU is one that I spent a lot of time mulling over and debating whether to write it or not. But given the fact that it means a lot to you, it was most definitely worth it. There is actually another topic that has been on my mind a fair amount that is as heavy as that AU, which is what happens when a suicide attempt doesn't succeed. Hopefully you won't mind if I write that as a little thank you for your lovely ask.

CW: Suicide attempt (overdose of Witcher potions)

Love wasn't meant to be part of a Witcher's life. That was what Eskel had always been taught and he accepted it as his lot in life. When he was younger, he had raged against it, tried to defy the truth. He attended parties, wooed and seduced wherever he went. Love never stuck but at least his lust was sated. Then Deidre happened and Eskel had a new reality to get used to, one where he was seen as monstrous, hideous and repulsive. Those were just Lambert's teasing words, trying to exaggerate and poke fun at the situation. Not that it helped. Suddenly, Eskel could only attend masquerade balls where his face was hidden from view for fear of upsetting humans. It was either that or finding hungry and desperate succubi who valued his Witcher enhanced attribute more than his visage. It didn't stop Lambert from cracking jokes.

"You don't have a succubi problem, you just have a succuebae. Get it? Before anyone else!"

It was easy for Lambert to say, brothels still took his coin if he wanted it. Though, by the sounds of stories, he didn't need to frequent such places, not when he had a Cat Witcher travelling with him and eager to share all aspects of the Path, not just the pay for contracts. Still, Eskel couldn't begrudge Lambert, he'd always had a shit lot in life. If he could buck the rule about love, good for him, he deserved that slice of happiness.

Then Geralt had to go and find himself a bard who was devoted to him. Eskel could smell the pining on Geralt over winters and then love when Jaskier finally spent the winter with them. That was fine too. Much like Lambert, Geralt also deserved someone to love and share his life with. Even multiple someones when Yennefer arrived and had no need of a room of her own.

It was fine. Eskel could be happy for them. He wasn't jealous, didn't feel like he'd been cheated out of anything. Those were thoughts he turned away from every night when he pulled his covers tight around him and pretended he didn't wish it was the warm embrace of a lover, probably much like the other two had.

Things got worse when Eskel started getting left out of things. There were games that the happy couples played in the evenings, something about how well they knew each other. It was raucous and fun by the sounds of it. Eskel stayed in the kitchen, cleaning because it wasn't a game he could play. The double dates looked fun, going out on rides. Once Yennefer even opened up a portal for them to spend a night away for some romantic getaway. The bard about Eskel bringing Lil Bleater had stung more than he cared to admit. Slowly, Eskel was forgotten. Vesemir had his books, was content with those and the letters he seemed to send. If Eskel was lucky, he'd end up like him. But Eskel didn't want to become Vesemir in his old age. Not even Vesemir really, not when Eskel didn't even have friends to exchange letters with.

The bleakness of it ate away at Eskel for years. Each time he returned to Kaer Morhen without a travelling companion, without someone to write to, he felt like a failure. To the point that he tried drinking, tried fisstech, anything to forget, even if just for a little while. Nothing worked though, every time reality caught up with him. There was only one solution he could see, one where there was no tomorrow to wake up to. It wasn't a rash decision, Eskel didn't immediately act on those thoughts. But his mind was made up and with that came a sense of relief. He had a few things to get in order, to figure out but there was now an end in sight, a way out and on his own terms.

One last winter he made the trek to Kaer Morhen. He had a tidy pack of coins, some truly excellent Gwent cards and a large stash of potions he had brewed up. All in all, he looked like he had a good year on the Path. Nobody needed to know that all his external riches were a façade for the poverty of his heart.

His plan was a simple one. It wasn't like a Witcher left a will or anything like that, his measly belongings got scavenged when he didn't return from a contract. That wasn't what Eskel wanted, he was going to make sure all his belongings were going to go to the person he wanted them to end up with. Which was why he started with Gwent. He played Geralt and, slowly but surely, lost all his best cards. Eskel prided himself in how he could play so well that they others believed he was having a bad run. Couple it with drinking some of Lambert's brew, it was an uproarious night full of laughter, friendly slaps to his back and loudly declared sympathy for his poor, alcohol addled brain.

Once the good Gwent cards were gone, Eskel switched out, claiming he needed someone lesser to play because Geralt was just too good. As predicted, Lambert took great offence at being called a worse player and shoved Geralt out the way. Eskel bet money, a nice pair of gloves and, in an almost unheard of turn, Scorpion.

"I needed to leave you with things to barter with for the rest of winter," he told Lambert with a smile. "Because I'll be winning it all back in the coming weeks, with interest on top."

The laughter that went up at that was nice. Eskel was satisfied all the worthwhile things in his possession had found good homes. Vesemir had already taken the spices and seeds he had returned with, along with the small mountain of foods that would keep them well fed over winter. What Eskel didn't expect was the hugs and pats to his back as they got ready to get to bed.

"It was nice to see you smiling and laughing again," Jaskier commented.

"This was like the old days," Lambert agreed, rubbing his knuckles over the top of Eskel's head viciously.

Aiden clasped his shoulder and gave it a squeeze with a smile. "Good to have you back."

It wasn't like Eskel had ever left, he had been there all those years, it was the others who didn't want him. It didn't matter now though. They'd had one final night together, it all went well. Eskel waved goodbye to them all, heart heavy but also light. He couldn't have asked for a better final evening.

Back at his room, he sat down on his bed and looked around. There wasn't much left. The furs and throws were all down in the communal areas, he'd migrated those down over the last couple of weeks. His armour wouldn't fit anyone and it wasn't suitable for reworking for the others. It would be the perfect thing to wear to his funeral pyre so he pulled it on one last time, taking a deep breath as the familiar scent of worn leather enveloped him. All the potions he'd brought back with him were lined up on his bedside table. He knew what he was doing. The others would understand, maybe even take it as the gift he meant it to be. He wouldn't be the odd one out anymore, the loner who brought the group down by hanging onto their coattails. They could have their double dates, their romantic getaways without having to worry about him or feeling guilty for leaving him behind.

The first potion was Cat, he downed it, feeling the world shift into larger clarity in the darkness of his room. It didn't sit heavy in his stomach, three potions were fine to take, four was when the toxicity began to affect him. Though Eskel was a large man, he could probably deal with about six potions before he became ill. It was why he had fifteen little bottles lined up, one worse than the other in terms of toxicity. Next, a Maribor Forest slid down his throat, followed by a Lapwing. They were all conflicting potions, making his body shake. Brock tasted foul but it was still better than Rook which made Eskel's heart pound. Taking a break, Eskel settled back on his bed, head spinning. He could feel his whole body shaking with unspent energy the potions teased out of him. It felt horrible, his stomach roiled. Without his attention on some creature and the fight for his life, Eskel couldn't help but focus on the way his joints seemed to itch, his muscles tingling.

Five potions weren't going to be enough. Reaching for another bottle, Eskel knocked back two Thunderbolts in a row. He gagged but pushed on, head swimming. Virga at least tasted a little better. It was wiped out by the Nekker Warrior Decoction. The world was fuzzy, Eskel whimpered a little as his muscles seized and cramped and his stomach ached. He'd rarely taken enough potions to even flirt with the edges of toxicity, to deliberately do it was agony. This wasn't how he'd expected it to go, he thought he'd take them, lie back and go to sleep. Pain was not part of the deal but he would shoulder it, this was his choice. A couple of the empty bottles clattered to the ground as he reached for the next one. Most of the Black Blood went down his chin as he spluttered. Leaning against the headboard, he closed his eyes, willing the wooziness to go.

Maybe to took more potions, maybe they were dreams, he didn't know. What Eskel did know was that he woke up in his bed, the sun shining bright in the sky. Head pounding and stomach churning, he could smell stale vomit in the air. Rolling onto his side, he threw up over the edge of his bed. Breathing shaky, Eskel coughed miserably and spat to clear the bitter taste from his mouth. Judging by the state of his floor, it wasn't the first time he had thrown up but it was definitely the only one he could remember. Flopping back onto the bed, Eskel covered his face with his palms and choked back on a howl of frustration. He couldn't even kill himself properly.

The problem was, Eskel had no plans for what to do if he failed. He'd been so certain that he would go to sleep and never wake up again. At a loss, he fell back onto habits and routine. He was already dressed in his armour which was acceptable clothing to go downstairs for breakfast. Nothing heavy, he couldn't face the idea of eating anything. But a drink of water would do him good. Stumbling into the kitchen, he grunted a greeting at the others who seemed to be having lunch. Of course they didn't notice he hadn't gotten up for breakfast. Either that or they just didn't care.

"You're dressed ready for war," Lambert joked but the smile on his face froze when Eskel looked at him. "Woah. You look like shit."

Geralt was out of his seat and grabbing Eskel by the chin, giving him a close inspection and a less than subtle sniff. Whatever he detected had him tensing up and glancing to Lambert who looked alarmed too.

"Let's get a bit of food in you," Geralt rumbled and guided Eskel to the table where Aiden's face turned stricken. Even Jaskier and Yennefer looked solemn, their usual rivalry nowhere to be seen. In fact, everyone seemed intent of giving Eskel the attention he didn't crave.

From the doorway, Lambert called, "Geralt" and stepped back. But the clink of bottles in his hand and the hushed, hurried conversation gave away the fact Eskel's dirty secret had been found out.

"I'll go clean the room but he's not going back there. Not alone," Lambert growled. The others around the table didn't even bother pretending they weren't listening in.

Vesemir's footsteps approached and Eskel wished fervently that the potions had done the job. Especially as he listened to the conversation.

"What's going on here?"

"It's Eskel he-" the clink of bottles followed again, Lambert no doubt showing Vesemir the evidence of Eskel's shame.

"I see." Vesemir rumbled softly and walked into the kitchen. He sat down next to Eskel, not saying a word. However, he squeezed his shoulder and swapped out the tankard of water for a warm tea, adding a dash of honey to it. "Geralt, get a Golden Oriole from the cupboard."

Eskel could only watch as it was added to his tea, heart sinking. Nobody said anything. Not even when Lambert returned, looking a little green in the face. He sat down, squirming in the silence.

"Are we not going to say anything about it?" He asked in the end. "We can't just pretend it never happened."

"We won't," Vesemir replied, voice warm but also full of warning. "But there's a time and place for everything. Right now, our priority is the physical. The Golden Oriole will help. Then Eskel will go and have a lie down in front of the fire to sleep and let his body heal."

It was so much easier to follow Vesemir's instructions than have to think for himself. Eskel hadn't thought he'd see the sun again, hadn't thought he'd have to worry about things like daily chores and ways to spend the long hours of a day. At some point he must have finished his tea because the mug was empty but Eskel didn't remember it. He was ushered towards the pile of furs and throws from his room and he sank into them, exhausted already. He was only half awake as he heard the conversation around him while a throw was carefully draped over him.

"How could he do this?" Geralt hissed, sounding angry for the first time. "Why would he do this to us?"

"I'm sure we'll find out." The reply from Vesemir was soft and calm. "But what we need to focus on is helping him realise it was a good thing he didn't succeed."

"What if he tries again?"

"We have to hope he doesn't. He won't be alone for the next few weeks, we'll take turns keeping him company. And hope that we can do enough to make him want to stay." Vesemir was oddly calm and resigned. "I've seen others do this before. We can only hope to counter the darkness that has befallen his mind."

Lambert joined the quiet conversation. "But he seemed so happy last night. In fact, he's been the most at peace in years. I thought he was getting better."

Even half asleep, Eskel could understand the words, appreciate the thoughts behind them. But he didn't know if the plan would work. He doubted the others would understand or would be able to do anything to help him. After all, they still had their partners, lovers and each other. All Eskel knew for certain was that if he tried again, he'd do something with an assured outcome. He just hoped the others would understand.

#eskel #background geraskefer #background lambden #geralt of rivia #lambert #vesemir #cw: suicide attempt #tldr: eskel sees no way out

[saphirered]

Thank you for my fire light romance request - I absolutely loved it! May I please request a Dariax x Reader (idm what format) where the reader is Dorian's sibling? Another genasi, morally grey but with a good heart overall? Just how Dorian would react if his pal and sibling ended up spontaneously getting together cuz life is too short xx

Glad to hear you liked Firelight! So sorry this took a while. I have no idea why it did. Anyway, here you go. Enjoy 😘.

Man, oh man, oh man. When you and Dariax got together the dwarf wanted nothing more than to shout it from the rooftops. You managed to prevent him from both literally and figuratively doing so for your sake. Don’t get it wrong, you love him but you were not prepared to face your brother with this new development in your relationship with his bestie just yet. Dariax (reluctantly) agreed but understood your reasonings. While he may want nothing more than to tell his best friend he’s found someone he really loves beyond just friends, Dorian’s your brother first and foremost and he’s not getting between that so you’ll continue this relationship in secret since you’re aware the others can be tattletales be that intentional or not.

Neither of you ever lied. You simply omitted the truth by just not mentioning anything. Whenever someone wasn’t looking or you had some privacy pda was never out of the question. Holding hands while out and about was already a common occurrence long before you got together but the quick sneaky kisses and longing glances were new and may have upped your whole charade in the end since while you may be decently suave people, you’re not very inconspicuous and the others aren’t blind. Oblivious at times luckily but not blind.

Nevertheless you kept this little detail of your life to yourselves, for as long as you could. You’d almost been caught on a few occasions but played it off cool and managed to deflect from the truth. It still planted seeds of doubt among the others about what you were plotting but rather than being suspicious of your relationship, some people may have clutched onto the possibility of you two either plotting a surprise or the crime of the century. No in between.

On your way to your room Dariax walked you to your door. Your goodbye kiss may have turned into something a tad bit longer and you might have done better to pull the dwarf into your room. In your defence; you were a bit preoccupied but unlucky for you your brother just made his way up the stairs to be greeted with the sight of his sibling and his best friend mid snog. You didn’t realise he was there until Dorian cleared his throat and you were forced to pull apart to deal with the situation.

Both a flustered mess this wasn’t how either of you imagined to bring the news to Dorian and the poor man was in quite the shock, dusting of purple across his cheeks and a stumbling mess he excused himself and hurried past the two of you towards his room. The cat’s out of the bag and now you had to deal with it as his sibling you took on the responsibility to check up on him sending Dariax off to bed.

Any attempt to even hint at you and Dariax’s little moment of passion returned Dorian to the state of a pre-teen who’s still considering romance to be gross and the mushy details of it even more so. Don’t even bring up the more intimate details or the genasi might just faint from embarrassment. There’s just some things he’ll never want to hear about his siblings’ life. This is one of them. At least you got the worst over with and will deal with the aftermath in the morning.

There you are seated at the table with the others, breakfast ready. You made it a point to assure you’d be down before your sibling. Dariax and you are seated next to each other as per usual passing dishes between you and the others to fill your plates. You hand Dariax the orange juice and he pours himself a glass as the final pair of footsteps come down the stairs and enter the dining room a bright smile on his face. The moment you notice you’re immediately suspicious. As if nothing had changed Dorian takes his seat opposite of Dariax and fills his own plate. Dariax thinks your talk last night must have gone well but you know this is just the calm before the storm.

“Hey Dariax. Would you say you’re a fast runner?” Dorian asks putting some slices of bacon on his plate and handing the dish to Opal who greedily accepts it and places the remainder of the contents on her plate leaving Orym with the crumbs so you pass the halfling some of yours from your own plate.

“I’ve done my fair share of running. It uh- kinda goes hand in hand when you’re sometimes in the business of procuring things that don’t necessarily belong to you.” Dariax smiles.

“Good. Because hiding your relationship from your best friend is one thing. Sleeping with my sibling another but should you ever break their heart, I promise you, you better be wearing your running boots, my friend.” Dorian just casually speaks but there’s a weight to his words. He’s not angry or upset. It’s simply a promise made that’s scarier than anything Dariax has ever faced; the prospect of the wrath of the brother of his lover who happens to be his best friend.

All eyes turn to you and Dariax and you grab the pitcher of orange juice from Dariax before it spills over and onto the table. You send Dorian a glare and you guess this is his way of saying payback is a bitch for making him feel awkward about it all. It’s not like it came as a surprise to the others but suddenly you have two girls fawning over you two talking about how you’re a great couple and basically plan out your life together for you over breakfast.

At the end of the day Dorian accepts your relationship and as long as you make each other happy he’s happy. Dorian doesn’t miss a beat to use this opportunity to call Dariax his brother in mind and soul now. Prepare for many songs and sonnets to be written in your honour one as sickly sweet as the next if one of you’re in for some retaliation either of you deserve for your actions or words against the bard. You love it so no foul no harm.

#critical role x reader #critrole x reader #exu x reader #exandria unlimited x reader #dariax x reader #dariax zaveon x reader #critical role #exandria unlimited #exu

[tallstars-rewrite]

Chapter 34

chapter list / previous / next

Recovery did come, slow as it was. Some days later, Talltail sat by the big glass window. Jake was curled up pressed against his side, snoring loudly. It still felt a bit strange that the kittypet didn’t have even a small qualm about letting a stranger into his home, and treating him as though they were clanmates their whole lives. Talltail certainly didn’t dislike it. It felt safer than sleeping alone, and even if the water the twoleg put down had an unpleasant metallic tang to it, at least he could be sure it wasn’t going to kill him. 

Another oddity he’d found in the den was the twoleg sometimes lit a small fire inside at night, in a little stone cavern in the sitting room, and somehow kept it contained. It was more than a little frightening at first, but also incredibly warm. It was his first sight of real fire. Talltail couldn’t help but be mesmerized at the rare opportunity to closely watch such a dangerous unpredictable thing, feared by all the clans, without having to worry.

 But that was about where the benefits stopped.

In the couple days he’d been there, he had also suffered getting slobbered on by a dog multiple times, and the twoleg constantly trying to stroke his fur. Once it had made the mistake of trying to pick him up, but Talltail had quickly made it clear that was not going to fly. He also had to deal with letting it take on and off the uncomfortable soft wraps and smearing his cuts with a foul smelling goo. The twolegs paws where clumsy and shaky. It made him long for Briarpaw’s much more gentle touch. I will never complain of the smell of herbs again, Talltail thought. Not that he’d get the chance either way. But however unpleasant it felt, he suffered captivity with as much dignity as he could manage. And his wounds did feel a bit better.

The twoleg came up behind them and crouched down, making strange high pitched noises at Talltail, a sound he noticed the twoleg only made at cats. Talltail ignored it, tail lashing when it had the nerve to start touching his back. He turned slowly with a searing glare.

“You are an ugly hairless lumbering fool. You smell of fox-dung. I’d rather sleep in the dirt place than breathe in your stench.”

The twoleg made a pleased crooning sound and went on stroking his fur. 

Talltail continued, “you have a kits’ senses and wouldn’t be able to find your own stupid ugly nose even though it’s attached to your face. You are lower than a worm, and I despise you and everything you stand for. You are too flea-brained to understand a word I’m saying, aren’t you?”

The twoleg meowed back at him. It sounded like garbled nonsense.

Talltail narrowed his eyes. “What is that supposed to mean? Are you mocking me?”

The twoleg meowed again. 

Talltail bit its paw.

Jake snored himself awake while Talltail still held one of its long digits in his jaws. 

“Are you getting along?” he yawned.

Talltail spit out the paw and the twoleg made an amused sound and lumbered away. “We are getting along great,” he said through gritted teeth.

“That’s good. You’ve only bit him five times so far, that’s much better than the last cat he tried to take in,” Jake purred.

“Your twoleg does not take hints very well.” Talltail replied, ears flat in annoyance.

“Well I never claimed he was wise. He’s really very fond of you though.”

“Then he truly isn’t wise at all."

Jake yawned and stretched “How’s your brooding going? Anything go by outside?”

“Nothing more than some birds,” Talltail sighed.

“Oh!” Jake said suddenly. “I forgot to mention...I had an idea about what you can do. My friend Nutmeg has seen lots of strays go through here in the past moons. There’s a chance the cats you're looking for were among them.”

“You forgot to mention that?”

“In my defense, there’s been a lot of other things to think about.”

“In which case,” Talltail stood. “I think I have stayed here long enough. My cuts aren’t bad. I can manage on my own without that terrible goo.

He expected Jake to argue, but instead he nodded. “I’d never expect you to stay in a house like this, even I find it a little cramped sometimes. A promise is a promise. Follow my lead and you can sneak out.”

Jake took a couple paces towards where the twoleg was sitting and let out a very loud yowl.

 “Hey! Time to open the door!”

 Eventually the twoleg grumbled, stood up slowly on creaking limbs, and shambled over to the side door. He looked down at Talltail and tried to nudge him back with his long hind leg. Talltail let out a small hiss. Who does it think it is, pushing me? 

Jake winked at Talltail. “Just be casual. Act like you don’t care.”

Talltail pretended like he was busy grooming his chest fur. As soon as the door was open, Talltail shot out faster than a hare, across the yard, and clammered through a gap in the fence. Jake squeezed after him a heartbeat later. The twoleg made a hooting sound, but Talltail was already out of sight.

He huffed in the fresh air as soon as he set paws on grass. Never had he been so relieved to feel it.

With a contented sigh of relief, he turned to dip his head to Jake. “Thank you for everything. I’ll think of you often for being so kind to me. You’ve more than repaid your debt.” 

Jake blinked at him. “It wasn’t just to repay a debt! And I want to go with you.”

 Talltail stared. “G-go with me? This could be really dangerous. I may not like your home, but you're safe here. Where I’m going isn’t, and who knows how long it will take. Do you even know how to fight?”

Jake puffed out his chest “I’ve been in a fight! I got into a tussle with an old stray once, sort of by accident, but I held my ground! See this scar on my ear?”

He turned his head to show off the very, very small nick in his right ear.

When Talltail didn’t respond, Jake gave a dramatic sigh of defeat. “Well, all right. I can’t make you take me. But be careful of the neighbor dogs. And the alley cats. And the rude twolegs. And the cars. The paths and alleyways can get really confusing if you don’t follow them all correctly, and you can end up turned around and running nose first into all kinds of danger. You know where to watch out for all of that, right?”

He was giving Talltail a very pointed look as he spoke. Talltail flicked his long tail in annoyance, but couldn't help looking out at the town with unease. This place was unfamiliar and completely strange to him, not anything his warrior training had prepared him for. Obviously, because warriors aren’t supposed to come out this far in the first place. 

It was hard to admit to himself after he’d been so determined to do this on his own that weaving through this loud foul smelling town made him nervous, and he didn’t even know where to start.

Jake had an amused glint in his eyes. “I know you’re on a super important mission, but if you want to accept this 'kittypets' help, I'd love to show you around.”

 Talltail eventually had no choice but to accept that maybe he did need a guide. For a little while at least.

Jake perked up immediately. “Great! Then I’ll take you to see my friend Nutmeg. You guys seem like you're a similar breed of paranoid, maybe you’ll get along. You can describe those cats to her, and we’ll decide where to go from there.”

 Talltail still wasn’t sure about this. He felt deep down that he really did want Jake’s company, remembering a time when it felt like such a relief to go see him. And he didn’t realize until after he left WindClan how empty it would feel to be completely alone for so long. But at least unlike back then, he didn’t have to feel guilty about seeing Jake because it was no longer a simple excuse to get away from his clan duties. But still... I came out this far because I needed to do this on my own, didn’t I? Why should another cat be bogged down with it?  

“This could take a while, Jake,” Talltail warned again as they walked. “Are you sure you don’t have anything more important to do?”

Jake’s eyes smiled brightly in the greenleaf sunlight. “I assure you, I have absolutely nothing better to be doing.”

***

Talltail followed Jake, leaping down off the fence into Nutmeg’s yard.

“Wait here, I know how to get her attention,” Jake said, trotting up to a tall glass opening in the nest. He began pawing at the window until a disgruntled looking tortoiseshell poked her head through an opening flap. 

Nutmeg pushed her way into the yard and regarded Jake suspiciously. “I haven’t seen you in a couple days. Is that weirdo still in your house?”

“Actually he’s in your garden.” Jake replied.

Nutmeg’s eyes bulged as she had apparently only just noticed Talltail sitting with his tail wrapped tightly around himself, trying not to look awkward.

“Um. Hi.” Talltail said.

The bristling tortoiseshell flicked her gaze from him back to Jake, not hiding her obvious unease. “Ah. I see.”

“I know, I know, you don’t like strangers in your garden, but I promise we’ll be gone quick. We just wanted to ask about the cats you’ve seen.” Jake looked back at Talltail. “Nutmeg keeps tabs on all the cats in the area, she sees everyone that goes by. Spying is like, her main hobby.”

“I am not spying, it’s a matter of safety. When I see dangerous looking strangers, the cats that go outside ought to know.” Nutmeg’s tail lashed and Talltail knew she was clearly still unhappy about him being there. He remembered suddenly, now that he’d caught her scent, that she was almost certainly one of the kittypets he had frightened not long after arriving.

“Right I'm er...sorry for scaring you before, I suppose.” Talltail muttered. Nutmeg simply flicked her tail in vague acknowledgement.

 Jake nudged her and she sighed. “Fine, I suppose I'm sorry for calling you weird.” She then added, quieter, “but what exactly am I supposed to think when a big stranger shows up covered in blood and talking to himself?”

“Anyway,” Jake interrupted before Talltail could respond, “his name is Talltail and we’re going on a quest to find a group of strays.”

“‘We’?” Nutmeg stared at Jake. "Why are you going?"

“Yes we, because we’re friends and I’m a good guide.” Jake retorted. Nutmeg looked very doubtful, which made Talltail a bit nervous. He hoped Jake wasn’t exaggerating his navigation knowledge, but it was too late to turn him down now.

“Well…” Nutmeg hesitated, “A lot of strays have passed by here. Who exactly are you looking for?”

Talltail did his best to describe the five cats. “The only one I need to find is the smallest of them, dark brown almost black, sort of long messy fur, one ear tip sliced off. His eyes are two different colors. Looks obnoxiously aloof all the time. It would have been a couple moons ago.”

“A couple moons ago, that’s not encouraging.” Nutmeg said. “But surprisingly, I think I know who you mean. They’d passed by here before. Made themselves very known, weird bunch, too friendly for their own good if you ask me. I remember because it was a little before I met Jake. Before him, they were some of the oddest cats I’d ever seen. And before you I guess. They stopped to talk to Quince, I think they mentioned something about staying in the big wooded park in the center of town. It’s supposed to be a big area with no cars, and there’s lots of food, and apparently housefolk will feed you too if you know the right ones to ask. I overheard them saying were going to stop traveling for a bit, I guess they just had a loss or something. Mind you, that was some moons ago, I don’t know if they’re still there, but that’s what they said last I saw them.” 

“Wow you remember all that? You’re positive?” Talltail asked.

Nutmeg sniffed, as if she were offended. “Of course I’m sure! I’m sure of every cat I see, especially weird ones.”

“Alright, alright. Do you know where this park is?” Talltail pressed.

“Um...well no, I have no need to go that far outside my house myself.”

“I think I know!” Jake piped up, “I haven’t been there, but I’ve seen it from a distance. We just have to cut through some alleyways to avoid the cars.”

“If you think it’s safe to do that…” Nutmeg narrowed her eyes, “Not every stray likes you, you know.”

“I’ll be fine. I know exactly where I'm going.” Jake nudged Talltail “See, aren’t you glad you have me?”

“Sure. We should get going though. Thanks for your help. As a reward, I promise never to come into your garden again.”

She snorted. “Actually, as my reward, you can try to keep Jake from doing anything fluff-brained.”

“I never do anything fluff-brained!” Jake purred as he turned with a flick of his tail. “Come on, no time to waste.” 

He scampered back up the fence and beckoned Talltail to join him. Jake was far too excited about the grim mission, and Talltail was beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable about not giving him all the details. “You’re only going with me a little ways,” Talltail reminded him quickly. “Just to the park. Then I have to continue on my own.”

“Sure, sure, but let's get going! You’ve never seen a town before, I remember how intense it felt the first time I saw it, I’ve got so much to teach you!”

Talltail allowed himself a small purr of amusement. There was still a distance to go. No need to be a drag the entire way when Jake was being so helpful, right? As long as he didn’t slow down.

chapter list / previous / next

#FRU34 #chapter 34

[boop-le-snoot]

masterpost • main masterlist • taglist & faq

previously on...

Chapter 3 is finally here. Sorcerers need their shopping done, too. Beyonce/Wong platonic ship (joking)! And finally some action, more witchy stuff. Bucky whump because I have a saviour complex. Stucky cuteness moment. Some blood/gore in this chapter.

My insides clenched, seeing the yellow and blue notice taped to my door - the building manager rarely left notes, so whatever it was, it wasn't going to be good. I had managed to wind myself up into an anxious frenzy by the time I had gone inside and locked my door behind me, immediately thinking I would have to exhaust myself by turning to magic to keep a roof over my head.

For once, the news turned out to be positive: a neighbor was being evicted and turned in to the police for stealing packages. The building manager urged the tenants to report any missing items and apply for a refund when possible, apologizing for the inconvenience. I wondered what prompted this, basically unheard of in NYC, act of kindness as my altar stared at me with mocking amusement, pointing out the obvious by its mere presence.

Grinning to myself, I texted Odette - predictably, she was happy for me, happy that my protection spell had turned out strong and steady, and added a few tips of her own for my spell to stay that way. It felt like I'd grown invisible wings, those days, with all the possibilities open - and never once did I let myself entertain a thought of getting back at an enemy of the past for longer than five seconds.

Sure, it was perfectly human to consider making the cheating ex go bankrupt or make sure the college professor, that failed a couple of students each semester as a 'reality check', trips and face-plants at least once a day... I mean, who wouldn't experience a malicious sort of joy from petty revenge?

But I found my powers were best applied with a positive result in mind. My friend's cat was the first test rat- I mean, living creature I had practiced my healing spells on. The eleven year old kitty was struggling and both me and my friend loved the critter dearly - so the short, but tiring spell I performed yielded exactly the results I was expecting. Odette said something about genuine love backing up the magic, and- well, Dumbledore much?

On humans, it turned out, it wasn't nearly as simple. I didn't know what I had expected would happen after performing nothing short of a whole improv-performace type of ritual right in front of my very puzzled but hopeful friend with chronic asthma, but it wasn't the sheer exhaustion that ran bone-deep and left me bedridden for a whole day.

Odette visited my dingy apartment with her signature enormous purse full of vials she spoon-fed me and trinkets she strategically placed in and around my immediate sleeping area. "There, there," the woman patted my head as I pitifully moaned at the ear-splitting headache. "The first one is always the most challenging. After all, if it would be easy, everyone would do it."

I understood that. But at the same time, it felt unfair that no good deed went unpunished. I told Odette so, raising my voice to the best of my ability as she rummaged around my kitchen.

"Nothing in this world comes out of thin air, whatever you decide to give has to be taken from somewhere," she explained patiently. "People like us are considered hedge witches. We do solitary work and draw most of our energy from the Earth, from mother Nature. We cannot perform miracles, however, the cost of our spells are very low," I felt an immediate peak of interest at the simple yet effective explaination she gave me. "We remain mostly human. Gaia* is kind and generous to the ones who pay respect," Odette continued over the clatter of pans and pots. "There are other kinds of witches - who take from other people, who take from the dead. But taking something by force always leaves scars and taking something from the dead means bringing a piece of them back to places it should not be."

I pondered the words as Odette brought the kettle to a boil, the whistling shriek piercing through my skull like a sharp projectile. "What about Voodoo practitioners?" I couldn't hold back my curiosity.

Odette cleared her throat. "What is left of them is mostly not human. Their gifts are great but the costs are greater. They can live far, far longer than the average witch but their souls will know no peace, just like the souls of the dead they anchor to themselves over time," Odette entered the room with a bowl of tangy, creamy liquid that smelled like pumpkin soup. "We do not bestow any judgement upon our brothers and sisters but it is our duty to inform the young." She cast a pointed glance towards me, passing me the soup and a wooden spoon I didn't know I had. "This should help you recover. Take tomorrow off if needs be."

She left shortly afterwards and I hadn't much strength than to use the bathroom, wash the rune-engraved spoon and curl up in my bed, only waking up when the meager light shone over my face from the window. Sleepy and fog-tinted, the early morning NYC was damp and windy as I stuck my head out of the window to soak my sleep-heated head in the cool air.

As uneventful as the day at the café was, I still wasn't up to 100% energy-wise, but the long walk from Jeremy's to Odette's was pleasantly invigorating. I didn't find the cold autumn moisture displeasing; the small raindrops kept me awake and alert. Odette nodded in muted pleasure as I clocked in and returned the special spoon back to her. The runes on it were interesting; I had taken a picture of them for research purposes, fully intending to craft myself something similar.

"Odette has taken on an apprentice," Wong's voice had me take in several deep breaths in preparation for the inevitable fuck-fest on my patience. "She has been avoiding me. And the girl is painfully slow."

I didn't hear the answer of Wong's companion over the rustling of the boxes I was hastily shoving in their places before the Asian man's temper grew foul. More foul. Ugh. The sharp ding of the bell had me yelling a, "Just a second please, I'll be right with you," while trying to keep my tone polite.

Wong's sour face and a list of items required greeted me as I flew out of the backrooms, noticing the locked doors of Odette's office on my way out. Wong's companion stood at the far end of the store - his robes quite different from the ones I'd seen people of their kind wear, his lithe, tall figure seeming strangely familiar. I squinted my eyes at his back. "Is this all you need?" I waved the list around, increasing the volume of my voice.

The tall man turned around and I could only gape. He, in turn, also froze, the stern, unfriendly expression losing heat and giving way to perplexed wonder. "I had placed an order, for sorcerer Strange," Tony's boyfriend eyed me somewhat sheepishly under Wong's concerned gaze.

I nodded, eyeing Wong in turn, letting satisfaction nestle a warm ball in my chest. Stephen's look of displeasure had turned onto his... Colleague. By the time I finished retrieving Strange's order and packing up the items on Wong's list, the Asian man had left, leaving Stephen to sheepishly pretend to examine the books on the furthest shelf. I waved the paper bags as he took long strides towards me, his fancy, large necklace glimmering under the lights.

"So, how long have you been working here?" Sorcerer Strange asked after I told him the total.

The cash register beeped loudly, coins clattering on the desk as I counted out his change. "Some time now," I shrugged noncommittally. I felt his magnetic eyes gloss over my adornments, the star necklace, the various rings; I could practically feel him coming to his own conclusions. "Long enough for your colleague to get an attitude with me," I had to make sure he knew I would be taking no bullshit from him - or anyone else, for that matter. Odette's opinion on his kind was firm and I was heavily inclined to agree.

"Hmm, I see," Strange was equally as keen on hiding his curiosity. It was a funny thing, really, that we, being adults that we were, treated this encounter like some sort of a dirty secret. "Don't take it personally. Wong is like that with everyone," The man briefly scratched his beard with a gloved hand before pocketing his change and picking up the bags. "Except Beyoncè, maybe," the wink he threw me was positively mischievous as it caught me off-guard, giving him a fox-like appearance.

I sighed as the door shut behind him. Pretty white boys - the ultimate human disasters.

I had no time to dwell on them, however, as something - or someone, hit downtown with all the malicious intentions to wreak havoc on the innocent civilians calmly going about their day. Mutants and people who knew Odette came in hordes, scrapes and bruises and strange wounds that required imminent healing.

My boss was no rookie, she dutifully accepted each and every single soul, looking worse for wear with each minute. Not being able to withstand seeing her drain herself, I simply took over the simplest tasks - and she said nothing, just gave me a nod, instructed to use whatever I needed and write it down somewhere along with the name of the person who required the healing.

As the battle raged, the crowds thinned but the ones who managed to come to Odette's spouted more serious wounds, obviously a result of them fighting back. Mutants covered head to toe with coats and hats and robes, for me to swallow my shock when they undressed - horns, tails and weird skin textures were on the far end of the normal. I dutifully extracted small pieces of information from each and every person I treated.

Yes, the Avengers were winning. No, there aren't many people hurt, most of the damage is cosmetic. Yes, the villain of the week is as stupid as usual. It was like a mantra. Odette poked her head into the spare room every now and then, her eagle eyes briefly scanning over me to make sure I wasn't exterting myself.

As I applied the healing salve to a tiny, pink-skinned woman, bandaging up her hands, my boss entered and closed the door behind her, setting down on the creaky chair with a loud thud. "Just got the news, the Avengers apprehended the terrorist," she sighed long and slow. "We've done all we could, the next few days I'll be handling house calls so you'll be here on your own. I'll probably see you in a few days, don't hesitate to give me a call if something comes up," Odette seemed to be barely standing up, yet when she tore off a few pieces of her jewelry and chucked them into a big tin can under the sink, the glossy sheen in her eyes melted away.

"Okay," I mumbled under the watchful eyes of the mutant woman. "Will there be more people coming in today?"

"No," the woman in front of me snorted. "SHIELD is prowling the streets. They are not fond of us, they always say we intervene unnecessarily even though we willingly do their dirty work so our children could be safe," the bitter, harsh tone took me off-guard.

I had to admit, there was reason behind her words. "Will you be able to get home safely? I have a puffy coat and a hat you can borrow." Figuring an expensive taxi ride would be a better alternative to something terrible happening to the woman, I offered her my winter clothes.

She smiled at me, razor blade teeth and large, red eyes the kindest I'd ever seen on a person. In the end, she took the clothes, promising to bring them back in a few days and Odette gave me a parka that was too small for her frame - despite it smelling like someone's grandma's attic, I found it to be quite lovely vintage. The puffy knitted scarf she added felt like warmth and safety - she had to have knitted it herself, for I knew, handmade items carried a significant amount of energy in them.

The shop was eerily quiet as I cleaned and scrubbed the stained, dirty floors and disposed of the bloody clothes and bandages in the tiny, odd fireplace in Odette's office - that was a thing most peculiar, it burned everything I put in it, but had no chimney, no place for the smoke to exit. Magic.

Something banged loudly against the entrance door. I let out a startled shriek, broomstick falling out of my hand and adding to the sudden cacophony of noise as the figure behind the stained glass slowly slid down the door, a deep, male voice groaning something incomprehensible loud enough for me to hear.

Grabbing a large serrated knife we used for mincing the bones of small animals, I made quiet steps towards the door, seeing a large, obviously humanoid figure helplessly lean on the door. The man's arm glinted chrome black and gunmetal grey in the low light. "Sargent Barnes? Bucky?" I whisper-shouted, carefully plying open the door.

He lifted his head, blood dripping down from it, his face looked like someone went to town on it with a meat mullet, his eyes were unfocused and couldn't keep a straight line. His flesh arm leaned heavily on the door frame, the prosthetic hanging limply, dragging his whole body to its side. It must've weigh a ton.

"Я должен найти капитана Роджерса," he whispered.

I didn't understand Russian at all but I could make out the name of his boyfriend. Which made sense. Bucky looked severely concussed - I idly wondered what exactly they had been fighting, what could have given a freaking super-soldier such a brain-leaking injury. "Sargent Barnes, follow me," I put on my big girl shoes and used my momma bear voice, towing the man behind me.

He, too, weighed a ton, as I stumbled, helping him into the chair in the spare room that became my healing station for today. The longer I looked at Bucky, the less lucid he grew, eyes falling shut as he murmured something in jagged Russian, slurring his words.

There was no time to think about the consequences of exposure of my witchcraft; mortar and pestle, herbs and salves flying everywhere, I assembled a healing spell and memorized the according ritual in what felt like record time. He was bleeding all over the chair, fresh crimson blood pouring out of his nose and mouth and it was all I could see.

I hadn't known true terror until the blood that poured out turned black. Whatever it was in him, it was poisonous - my protection charms grew hot, scalding as they left marks on my skin; powering through the pain and unable to turn my eyes off the convulsing Barnes, I finished the chant just as the flow of vile, tar-like liquid suddenly ceased. It pooled around his feet, dripped down the armrests and matted his long hair. It reeked, too, of copper and putrid meat.

Bucky had passed out somewhere mid-spell, the slow, steady breathing bringing me my own sense of calm. To say that I was drained would be an understatement - my vision swam and my world spun on it's axis as I unlocked Odette's office to messily rummage through a cabinet for the emergency tonic I knew she kept there. I chugged the vial, an avalanche of almost anxious, jittery energy hit me like a freight train - exactly what I needed.

I bought myself a couple hours of time. Cleaning up the sludge around Bucky's feet and removing the outer parts of his gear was easy as he remained as relaxed as a cooked spaghetti noodle. The amount of weapons he had on him was impressive, but those weren't what I was looking for - his phone. It was dead, so I plugged it in, waiting for the 5% to show and bringing it to his fingertips, hoping he used the print recognition instead of the password option... And I lucked out.

"Hello, this is Star, I found a Bucky. Tell Dr. Strange to come get him, he knows where I am." I texted the "Stevie ❤️" contact, my inner fangirl self squealing at the dorky name of his boyfriend's contact in Bucky's phone. Shortly afterwards, I went ahead and snapped a picture of myself next to sleeping Bucky, figuring out some actual proof wouldn't do any harm in this bizarre situation.

The answer didn't let me wait long. "10 minutes" came the first text, and shortly afterwards - "Is Bucky okay??????". I had to snort at the amount of question marks before honestly replying "He will be ☺️" and putting the phone back in Bucky's pocket. I cleaned up and attempted to lift Bucky up, succeeding in waking him up into a half-lucid state, probably courtesy of decades of training and whatnot, to at least drag him to the front of the store. I wasn't particularly comfortable with strangers seeing the backrooms.

Bucky leaned with his back against the counter, ass flat on the floor and a towel with a cold compress pressed to his head when the doors all but flew open, revealing Captain Rogers, still in uniform and Stephen Strange, arguing with his boyfriend, both still suited up and bloody and grimy.

"Uhh," I blinked owlishly, causing the men to stop bickering and stare first at me, then at Bucky. "I think he hit his head," I offered weakly, backing up slightly at the amount of burning eyes staring at me.

"Shortcake, that you?" Tony's eyebrows rose as he surveyed the bodega, the items on the shelves, the black and red blood stains on my previously pristine, yellow shirt.

"Now is not the time, Tony. Go with Rogers, make sure the medical is prepared for Barnes and disable his arm," Strange barked out authoritatively, shooting me a puzzled but compassionate look. "The portal is open. I'll talk to Star, find out what happened." He advanced towards me as Captain picked up Bucky bridal-style as tenderly as he could while making sure the compress stayed on.

"Keep that tone fo the bedroom," Tony's voice was more than displeased as he shot me and Strange a hurt look, but followed Steve into the golden circle right outside the door before it sparked shut.

"Now, now, what happened here?" The sorcerer's voice lowered into a soothing drawl as I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding. My shoulders sagged, fingers twitching with anxious energy. The man extended a gloved hand, briefly squeezing my shoulder. "It's alright, take your time."

Damn, did I look that bad?

Taglist: @couldntbedamned @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites

#bun writes #practical alchemy #tony stark x reader x stephen strange #tony stark x reader #Stephen Strange x reader

[loving-daisy]

Cry For Me | George Weasley x Reader

Masterlist | Cry For Me Masterlist 

Chapter 2 - Love or Hatred 

Words: 5.3k

Warnings: fighting, arguments, scheming, angst   

____________________

You don’t know me 

Oh great George muttered sarcastically, to no one in particular, standing up from he and Fred’s potions table to sit next to his partner but not before shoving Fred for poking his sides to tease him.

“Have fun, Georgie~!” Fred sang, earning a glare from the younger twin. As George made his place next to the Slytherin that managed to bother him every single day, he huffed. 

“Hey, Georgie, what’s up?” Y/N asked, an amusing smile plastered around her face. “The sky.” He answered, causing Icestone to feign a quiet laugh. “Well, you aren’t wrong.” 

There was a moment of silence between the partners as Snape went on with his class, muttering about what to do and what not to do. For the first time since forever, the tall ginger actually paid attention. His eyes looking at nothing but his parchment, a hand on his quill as he messily tried to write a transcript of what the potions master was blabbering. The faster we finish this potion, the faster I can get away from Icestone He thought.

After what seemed like an eternity, George stood up from his seat to gather the ingredients, leaving his partner to set up the cauldron. 

There was a bit of awkward silence between the Gryffindor and the Slytherin, too focused on working with the potion, until Y/N decided to break it. 

“I heard next week’s match would be Slytherin vs Gryffindor. Ready to lose Weasley?” She teasingly said, earning a grunt from George. 

The boy laid the Chinese Chomping Cabbage on their shared desk, an ingredient of the Skele-Gro potion, in preparation for the mentioned school game. “Lose? Even if Gryffindor loses, we all know that it would be because of Slytherin’s foul play and not our lack of skills, thank you very much.” 

Y/N raised her brows, going up in her tiptoes to reach the ginger’s ears. “I must admit you’re right though. No one can play quidditch like you.” She whispered, making the Gryffindor flustered. 

“Quit it, will you?” He deadpanned, earning wide doe eyes from the Slytherin who feigned an innocent look. “Quit what?” She asked.

George sighed, his hands resting on his hips as he turned to face the girl. “Why are you always flirting with me? Trust me, Icestone. You’re a pretty witch but I don’t see myself having a relationship with a Slytherin.” 

Silence fell over the pair’s shared potions table. There Y/N Icestone stood. Speechless, frozen, and in disbelief. The ginger took a notice in this, observing the Slytherin before coming into a reasonable conclusion. “Don’t tell me --” 

“You must be sick in the head if you think that I fancy you, Weasley.” Icestone cut off, finally giving her attention back into the cauldron sat in front of her, keeping herself busy in an attempt to brush the topic off. 

George crossed his arms. “Then why are you flirting with me? You don’t do that to Fred. You don’t do that with other guys!” 

Y/N shrugged.

____________________

The day went by nonchalantly with Y/N Icestone, the Weasley twins, and the rest of the students of the wizarding school going through their own agenda. The Weasley twins being unusually M.I.A which only means that they were planning their next mischief or they were busy practicing for the upcoming quidditch game. Most likely the latter one. Due to this, it was not until supper time at the great hall when Y/N saw the Gryffindor gingers again. 

“Hey George. Hey Fred.” Y/N said, looking at George and Fred respectively, squishing in between the twins as they made their way to the great hall.

“He’s not George, I am!” Fred exclaimed, his arms crossing causing Y/N to raise her brows, stepping closer to Fred as she had one hand around the older twin’s arm, threatening to pinch his freckled skin. 

“You can’t fool me, Weasley.” 

“But I am Fred...” George muttered, Y/N giving her signature ice cold stare towards the twins, causing them to whimper. 

“Alright, alright, I am Fred.” Fred finally says, shivers in his spine from the look the Slytherin just gave them. “You are one scary woman.” Y/N smiled innocently. 

“How do you manage to tell us apart?” George asked. “Even our own mother gets us confused.” Fred continued, both tilting their heads as a sign of confusion. 

“I just do.” She said, shrugging as if it was nothing. 

“Come on, tell us! We’re really curious, Icestone! How do you manage to do it?” George asked.

The Slytherin looked up at the younger twin, “You…” she began, raising her hand to poke the little mole residing in his neck. “...have a mole right here.” She said, causing the twin to blush. 

“But how do you manage to spot that so far away?” The older twin chimed. 

“George is a bit taller than you.” She answered the older twin. “And you happen to be more annoying. That’s why I like Georgie more.” She teasingly said, nudging the still blushing ginger at the side. 

Fred raised his brows. “Be honest Icestone, have you developed a liking for my twin? How could you! I reckon I’m the more good looking twin. You must be blind, woman!” Y/N just shrugged, a small smile on her face as she teased the twins. 

As they turned to the next hall, Icestone spotted her friend, forcing her to announce her departure. “I’ll see you tomorrow at Snape’s, Weasleys! At the match on Saturday, too!” She said before running off to Daphne Greengrass.

The notorious twins stop in their tracks, two pairs of eyes staring at the Slytherin queen who locked her arms with her friend, whispering little nothings and giving one short glance to the twins, before heading to the great hall for lunch. 

“I think I’m starting to like her, George.” The older twin stated. 

“Agree. She’s not like the other Slytherins.” 

____________________ 

The following day, as Fred and George stride the halls after finishing their Divination class, they were arguing about which twin is the better Quidditch player as their conversation started off with the upcoming match of their team versus the house of snakes. 

“George, how can YOU be the better player? I am the more good looking twin which makes ME that better player.” Fred insisted, his arms crossing against his chest as he huffed. George shook his head, his hands placing itself on his hips as he looked at his twin unamusingly. “And how does looks define how good you play quidditch?” He opposed. 

Fred raised his brows as he faced his twin. “So you agree?” 

“Agree to what?” The younger twin asked. 

“That I’m the more good looking twin?” 

“Fred —“ Before George was able to give his counter attack, he was cut off by his twin who scanned his eyes from corner to corner as if he was searching for something. 

“Hold that thought, George. Do you hear that?” Said the older twin. 

The ginger towers stopped in their tracks before looking at each other, having their non-verbal twin communication before running off to the sound of crying first years. 

As they turned into the next corner, the twins were surprised, hurt, and outraged to see Y/N Icestone standing in front of a group of Hufflepuff first years, arms crossed as her eyes sent sharp icy daggers. 

With George being a bit taller than his twin, he was able to be the faster one who stood before the Slytherin, blocking the crying Hufflepuffs away from her sight. 

“Icestone?! What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” George bellows, his eyebrows meeting at the middle of his forehead, a rather disappointed and enraged look on his face. 

The icy daggers Y/N was sending beforehand was shot towards the younger twin. Unfazed by the tone and having no energy to defend or even explain herself as she herself was burning with fury. 

“Answer me.” George orders, earning a snap from the Slytherin. 

“You do not tell me what to do, Weasley.” Y/N sternly said, her teeth gritted and her fists clenching. 

George was even more wrathful but decided to end their verbal quarrel as his eyes caught the sight of the familiar Transfiguration professor. 

“Fine. Then shove off, Icestone. Mind your own business instead of harming the poor first years.” 

Turning her heels away from the infuriated ginger, Y/N Icestone walked away, not sparing another glance towards the twins. 

George turned towards the Hufflepuffs who were now smiling brightly as the older twin made a series of funny faces towards them. George’s anger was melting down. 

“You guys alright? I’m sorry about the Slytherins. They never change. Always bullying the poor 1st years…” George started. 

“Just ignore them.” Fred insisted towards the group before standing up and fishing assorted sweets from his robes. “Cheer up, okay? Here, take this.” He said, offering the goods as it laid on his palm and the red nosed Hufflepuffs gladly taking it from him before uttering a small “Thank you” and making their way back to their house common room. 

George sighed. “You okay, mate?” Fred asked, his arm going around his twin’s shoulders. George sighed once again. “Slytherins are all the same.” 

____________________ 

After Icestone’s encounter with the twins at the hallway, she stormed off to the fields to get some peace and quiet. She figured that retrieving back to the Slytherin dungeons would be rather a hassle for her as her fairy or Lixie or even Daphne if she wasn’t so busy snogging off, would question her foul mood. Going to the library wouldn’t be an option as a lot of students spend their free time there. She would just be followed by their attention. 

Pulling her scarf tighter around her neck, she sat at the cold ground, her fiery thoughts being cooled down, frozen, and evaporating into gas, leaving her as the wind blew. 

“Surprised seeing you here.” Y/N heard a familiar voice. Quickly turning her head, she was even more surprised to see Lixie standing on its four paws behind her, a dead bird in front of him. 

“Gone hunting again, I see? Another peace offering for me. What did you do this time?” She questioned, ready to scold her cat for whatever trouble he did this time. Cats have a tendency to show their love by hunting rather intricate objects to offer to their owner. Lixie only does this when he does something unfavorable for the Slytherin. 

“This?” Lixie said, looking down at the dead crow, rolling it like a pizza dough using his right paw. “This isn’t for you.” 

“Who is it for then?” 

The blue eyed cat looked towards his side making Y/N’s follow through the direction. Leaned against the big stone, a small girl sits, her uniform stating that she was a Gryffindor. Y/N scrunched her nose, turning back to her cat with an eyebrow raised. 

“And who is that supposed to be?” 

“My friend.” He stated before picking up the black crow with his mouth and running off to the girl. The Slytherin contemplated whether or not to follow thinking that she had to deal with another student younger than her. Not to mention someone from Gryffindor. Gryffindors and Slytherins don’t really get along. Everyone knew that. 

Observing her pet, she quietly stood at the fields, watching the girl pat Lixie’s head softly and Lixie opening his mouth to talk. With curiosity getting the best of her, she looked at the encounter from a different angle, noticing the non-stop tears from the Gryffindor girl. 

Icestone felt her heart burn. Not again she thought. 

Marching towards the pair, she sat beside the Gryffindor. Purposely looking ahead to be not recognized. 

“Life hasn’t been good lately, huh? That’s just the way life is.” She began. “You’ll get through.” 

When she didn’t get a reply, she turned to face the girl, who she noticed was giving her a look of sadness. Her eyes matching her red hair that also matches her cheeks which Y/N assumes was from the cold air. 

“I’m sorry for intruding, dear. It’s just that I saw Lixie over here and I saw you.” 

Silence. 

Y/N sighed, feeling the need to explain her intentions further. “I guess we have our similarities. I also came here to be alone but I figured being alone in the cold isn’t really that healthy so I came to you. You shouldn’t be alone. So I’m here for you.” 

“You know Lixie?” The girl asked, her voice hoarse from all the crying. The first word she uttered ever since the Slytherin came. 

Y/N flashed a small smile, giving a small nod. “I do. He’s my cat.” She said, earning a shocked look from the girl. 

“Wow...my apologies for being rude. I didn’t know Lixie was yours. I mean, all that was written in his collar was his name and a little snowflake. By the way, my name is Ginny.” The Gryffindor said, her mind being distracted by what caused her gloominess as her eyes showed more liveliness, raising her hand to offer a handshake towards the 5th year. 

The Slytherin’s smile grew wider, amused by the red head for comfortably conversing with her. “Nice to meet you, Ginny. I’m Y/N.” She stated, shaking Ginny’s hand. 

With the mention of the familiar name, Ginny’s eyes grew wide. “Y/N Icestone?” She chimed, earning a raised brow from Y/N. 

“You know me?” She questioned. 

Ginny enthusiastically nodded her head, her serotonin going up as she talked to the famous Slytherin queen, causing confusion towards the mentioned 5th year. “I do. You’re always the talk on the hallways, including my brothers of course.” 

If Y/N was being honest, she was surprised by Ginny. First of all, not being able to recognize her through one look? Icestone could understand that as they are from different houses afterall and the girl must have a lot of thought as she encountered her bawling her eyes out but finally realizing that she was Y/N Icestone and not being scared of her? That’s rare. That made Y/N favor Ginny. 

“Brothers?” She asked, confusion even more evident in her mind. 

With Ginny noticing the questioning look plastered around the Slytherin’s face, she realized that the 5th year failed to recognize which family she came from. “Oh yeah my name is Ginny Weasley. I’m the sister of Fred and George. And Ron and Percy. Bill and Charlie as well.” She said. 

“Wow...you have a big family.” Y/N stated, shocked from the amount of people under the Weasley family but even more shocked that she met the twin’s little sister who was nothing like them or Ron. 

The Gryffindor shrugged. “Do you have siblings?”

The small smile Y/N gave Ginny was being offered again, shaking her head before saying “I don’t.” 

“That’s nice…” The red head muttered. 

“But it’s okay. At least I have Lixie.” Y/N stated, scratching Lixie’s head before fetching something from her pockets. 

Turning to Ginny, she offered her hand, a small bracelet with a single snowflake charm dangling from it. “Here.”

Ginny looked up at the 5th year, curiosity in her eyes. “What’s this?” She asked, earning a small chuckle from the Slytherin. “It’s a bracelet obviously.”

Ginny sheepishly smiled. “I knew that. But why are you giving it to me?” 

Y/N took a hold of the said bracelet in her hand, the other fetching Ginny’s hand before clasping the bracelet around the red head’s wrist. “This bracelet lets you talk to Lixie over here. When he says something, you’ll be able to understand him. He likes you. You can play with him.” 

Ginny took a look at her wrist. The elegant silver band sitting perfectly on her skin causing a bright smile to sit on her face. Once again, she looked up at the 5th year. “Really?”

Y/N nodded, her smile matching the red head’s. “Really.” 

____________________ 

Y/N hastily grabbed the ingredients from George’s hands as he seemed disoriented on what to place in the cauldron next. Y/N looked at the Gryffindor, a concerned look on her face. “You okay?” She asked. 

The ginger Gryffindor was surprised to see Icestone talking to him like they didn’t have a messy encounter yesterday. After the twins caught Y/N with the crying Hufflepuffs, George was simply just lost in thought. Never did he hear or caught the Slytherin girl moving like her other awful housemates to the extent of bullying poor first years.

He knew the Slytherin queen moved like a cat. Quiet and swift. Not too showy. That’s also the reason why he wasn’t aware of her existence until that incident in McGonagall’s class. So he had his doubts. Was Icestone really different like he thought she was or was she just the same?

George slowly shook his head, his train of thought departing before giving a small smile towards the Slytherin. “I’m fine. Just nervous for the match on Saturday. I’m sorry I got distracted. I haven’t really been listening to what Snape was saying earlier so--” He rambled, getting cut off by Y/N. “That’s fine, George. I can help you.” 

“Icestone...about yesterday…”

“Hush now, George. We don’t want Snape to put us in detention now don’t we?” 

“You know, for a Slytherin, you’re pretty nice towards me.” The ginger stated, causing Y/N to look up at him.

“Is that so? And what makes you think that way, Weasley?” She asked, raising a brow. George shrugged. 

“I mean, compared to other Slytherins, you’re tolerable. I lashed out at you yesterday but it seems like you’re completely fine. You don’t hold grudges. Even if me and Fred accidentally pranked you, you weren’t as furious as we thought you would be. In fact, you just turned us into cats and acted like nothing happened.” The ginger explained. 

Y/N turned her attention away from the potion that they were cooking, a shocked expression around her face as she looked up at the Gryffindor. “Accidentally pranked? You mean to say that wasn’t supposed to be for me?! Then why was it lying on my desk?”

George smiled sheepishly, fidgeting his fingers as he leaned down to whisper. “We thought that was Malfoy’s desk.” 

Y/N smirked, her eyebrows raising as an expression of amusement towards the Weasley twins. “You planned to prank Malfoy? Bloody brilliant you twins are. That would have been hilarious!” 

George froze, confusion flooding his mind as he looked at the Slytherin in disbelief. “You’re not furious that we planned on pranking Malfoy?” He asked, earning a shrug from Y/N. 

“Why would I be? It’s not like we’re close or something.” She deadpanned. 

“I mean, you are the Slytherin queen afterall. You wouldn’t be mad if your subject gets teased on? Not to mention how Malfoy is literally your prince.” 

Y/N scoffed. “Prince? Prince of annoyingness, prince of being a pain in the bum, or prince of being a whiny bloke? I tell you! He may get the title of the Slytherin prince but he definitely has no chance with me. Besides, haven’t I told you before? Those are just titles. None of it really matters to me. I must say, it is helpful sometimes though. You get the people’s respect for you.” She began. 

“Nonetheless, just make sure you don’t hurt innocent Slytherins, Weasley or else I’ll have no mercy on you.” Y/N continued, a threatening tone in her voice as she sent pointed a finger towards the ginger. 

George felt a shiver down his spine, scared by the tone used by the Slytherin at her last sentence. 

“Yes, ma’am” He muttered before silence enveloped the pair’s table as Snape examined their shared cauldron. 

Once the potions master dismissed the class, the students were quick to pack their belongings, refusing to stay a second longer in the dark classroom. Before the Slytherin queen left, she patted George’s shoulder, causing him to face her. 

“See you later, George. I’ll see you at the match on Saturday, right?” Y/N asked, her innocent eyes looking up the tall ginger’s. George nodded, a small smile plastered on his lips. 

Before he was able to speak, Y/N went on her tiptoes and kissed him on his cheeks, whispering a small “for good luck” before turning her heels to head to the dungeons, leaving George a blushing mess. 

____________________ 

Saturday came with the Slytherin and Gryffindor team, along with a few students, sitting at the great hall for breakfast which was earlier than usual given that the match between the house rivals is about to take place. A few chit chatters and the sound of clanking silverware was the only thing to be heard until the infamous Slytherin prince opened his mouth to spat on the opposing team. 

“Hey Gryffindors, don’t want to eat too much ey? Don’t want you puking on the field when they announce Slytherin as the winner.” Draco Malfoy snarled, annoying most of the Gryffindor quidditch team and earning a laugh from his own. 

“Maybe if you lessened the gel on your hair, you would actually bring a contribution to your team.” Fred clapped back, making Draco scowl. 

Just as he was about to stand up from his seat, a noise came from the doors of the great hall, turning everyone’s attention towards it. 

There Y/N Icestone stood, residing in an emerald colored coat and a white scarf, with a Siamese cat dressed in a little white sweater in her arms.

As she made her way towards the Slytherin table, all eyes were on her, watching as she entered the hall, striding as if it was her runway. Noticing this, she gave the prying eyes her famous icy look, pushing away the attention off her. As she sat across Daphne Greengrass, Lixie sat on top of the table, his blue eyes sparkling upon seeing the feast laid out in front of him. 

With the silence looming around the hall, Malfoy continued his attempt of bullying their quidditch rival. “Scared, Potter? You better watch out because I will be the one who’s gonna bring home the snitch. I--” Draco was unable to continue as a green apple was shoved in his mouth. Y/N Icestone had her wand up, pointed towards him. She was more irritated than ever. 

“Malfoy, do you ever shut up? Don’t you think it's too early for you to be behaving like a babbling, bumbling band of baboons? Eat your breakfast, will you?” She sternly said, her arms descending as she kept her wand in her coat, finally sipping her morning herbal tea but not noticing the look the twins from the Gryffindor house was giving her. 

“Bloody hell, mate. She’s even scarier in the morning.” Fred whispered to his twin, who had a rather amused look on his face.  

____________________ 

The quidditch field slowly became full as students of Hogwarts from different houses took their place on the stands to watch the rivalry unfold. 

As both teams stood in their starting positions, George looked up the stands, smiling wide as he scanned the Gryffindors who came to support their house, cheering on his team. Looking over to the Hufflepuffs, he spotted some of his friends who were always excited whenever he and his twin managed to pull another successful prank. Moving his eyes towards the Ravenclaws, he saw how most were actually waiting for the game to start instead of catching up on a book like they usually do when their house was not playing.

Finally setting his eyes towards the Slytherins, the house had an expression of confidence, strongly believing that Gryffindor team was no match for theirs. Finding the familiar icy eyes, he spotted her sitting in the first row. Daphne Greengrass and another girl from the Slytherin house on her sides and a cat on her lap. 

As the Slytherin queen reciprocated the look the ginger was giving to her, she raised a brow, making the Gryffindor beater smile even wider. Raising her hand, she gave a small wave before discreetly mouthing “good luck”. 

____________________ 

“Angelina, watch out!” Fred called, concerned as a Slytherin player came to shove the Gryffindor chaser, disrupting the team to widen their score against the opposing team. 

Most of the Gryffindor players were starting to get enraged. The Slytherin team has been disrupting their play one after the other without the authorities calling it as foul play when it clearly was. Every time a Gryffindor chaser would score the quaffle through the hoops, a Slytherin chaser would come shoving, sometimes kicking their brooms to make them lose their balance and take a hold of the said ball. The Slytherin beaters would purposely hit the bludgers roughly, once hitting their captain, Oliver Wood in the head, making him fall off and make the Gryffindor hoops unattended for the opposing team to score. 

“Harry Potter flies through the stands in an attempt to catch the golden snitch. Will he be able to? Will Gryffindor win against the Slytherin today?!” Lee Jordan announces, being the commentator for quidditch games. 

The rest of the Gryffindor team gave their effort to do defense against the opposition of the Slytherin team as they managed to get ahead of Gryffindor's points.  

“The Slytherin seeker Draco Malfoy catches up to Harry, reaches his hands, and catches the snitch! Draco Malfoy catches the golden snitch! Slytherin wins!” Lee announces, the field erupting into cheers and shouts in different contexts. 

The teams descend down from their brooms, the Slytherin team having an annoying smirk on their faces, high fiving each other before their captain, Marcus Flint, faces the Gryffindors, the look plastered on his face not faltering.

“Good game, Gryffs.” He said, laying his hand out for a hand shake but no one accepted. “Good game?!” Fred asked in disbelief. “You cheated!” 

Flint raised both his arms in a defensive state. “Woah. Woah. Calm down Gryffs. In no way did we cheat. No need to blame your loss against ours. You should have trained your seeker better then. Good job, Malfoy.” He claimed, praising their Slytherin seeker who held out the golden snitch in a boasting manner, before retrieving back to their tent. 

George, enraged from Slytherin’s foul play, looked up the stands, seeing a crossed armed Y/N Icestone, a similar annoying smirk plastered around her face, making him even more furious.

“Icestone.”  

____________________ 

“Marcus Flint.” Y/N called, breaking the little bubble her house quidditch team was in, as she entered the team’s tent. With the captain facing towards her, the team halts their celebration as tension builds up in the atmosphere due to the seriousness in Icestone’s voice. 

Standing in front of the sweaty team, she sent a glare towards the captain before looking at each player, one by one. 

“Slytherins. I see that you’re celebrating your win against Gryffindor.” She stated, a disappointed smirk plastered on her face. 

“Yeah, did you see how Draco caught the snitch? Potter really had nothing against him.” Flint snickered, patting the young boy at the back. 

Y/N gave them a small and single nod. “Sure, you won. But do you think it’s a victorious one? Something that would bring you glory?” She scolded. 

“I thought we talked about having a fair play? Do you want me to strip off your captain title, Flint? I could easily owl my father right this instant. It would --” 

“No, no! I’m so sorry Icestone. I promise to not do it again! I’ll train my team even harder!” Flint cut off, scared of the Slytherin standing in front of him. Y/N gave a stern look towards the Slytherin team, silently threatening them as a warning to be ready for the consequences of another attempt of foul play. 

That didn't work for Malfoy, though, as the platinum blonde boy scoffed. “Wait until my father--” Before he was able to continue, the girl cut him off. “Wait until my father hears about this.” Y/N mocked. 

“What is he gonna do about it, huh? Your father has no power against mine. Remember that.” She stated, her voice full of venom. Finally turning her heels and making her way back to the comfort of her room but not before Lixie sending the team a small hiss causing them to jump. 

____________________ 

Y/N stride the halls of the wizarding school, cat in her arms, gently stroking Lixie’s head as she makes her way to find a certain Gryffindor ginger. 

Turning to the next corner, she was met by unwelcoming looks from the furious redhead twins, one of them being the certain ginger that she was looking for. Opening her mouth to speak, she was immediately cut off. 

“That was all part of your plan now, wasn’t it ice queen?” George mocked, an angry tone in his voice. Y/N kept her blank expression, continuously patting her cat’s head to calm her building nerves. 

She was shocked by the outraged looks the twins gave her but she was even more shocked to hear the tone George used on her. She understood that the twins would be mad because of the match earlier but she didn’t expect them to pour it down on her. She was lost in her thoughts. A lot of questions building up and her mind trying to conclude each and every one. Nonetheless, she kept her blank expression, showing no emotion towards the two tall gingers. 

“I certainly do not know what you are talking about, Weasley.” She answered, her icy eyes digging back at his fiery ones. 

“You must have ordered the Slytherin quidditch team to play dirty on us, huh? You must have ordered them like the queen you are! Angelina almost fell from her broom!” Fred exclaimed, causing Y/N to raise a finger at him. 

“You do not use that tone on me, Weasley. My apologies for the foul play Slytherin has brought into the table. My apologies to your team, too, on their behalf. But trust me, I was not the mastermind of this.” She sternly said, the Weasley twins unfazed by her stone cold glare. In fact, they were even more furious, if that was possible. 

“Oh yeah? Well then what was the meaning of “watch out for the main event” huh, Icestone? Don’t tell me this isn’t the main event you're pertaining to. Don’t tell me that you’re planning something else.” George said, gritting his teeth. 

“Clearly you have twisted my words, Weasley. The main event was the pie on your face. Nothing more, nothing less. As for the events that unfolded earlier, none was under my control. You know how Slytherins always play dirty on the field. Now, shove off Weasleys.” She said under her voice, pushing past the Gryffindors as her icy eyes started to melt, water threatening to fall.  

____________________ 

Later that evening, Fred and George sat at the Gryffindor tables at the great hall, bitter at the sight of the celebrating Slytherins. As George scanned his eyes towards the Slytherin tables, he was not fazed by the absence of the Slytherin queen but not until the Slytherins turned down their noise as Y/N Icestone walked in their sight, face showing no emotion. 

“Icestone! We won!” A group of Slytherin girls celebrated, following Y/N as she sat in her place, the group sitting across from her. She flashed them a small smile before grabbing her own share of supper. 

Fred gritted his teeth, his hands clenching against the fork he was holding. “Can you believe this, George?! Bloody Icestone even has the nerves to deny everything! It’s so obvious!” He ranted, strongly stating his opinion. 

George sighed. “I can tell, Fred. I guess what I thought of her was wrong. So, so wrong.” 

Silence occupied the twin’s bubble. Both focusing on stuffing their mouths full to distract them from the happy feast their rival house was doing. 

Suddenly, as if a telepathic moment occurred between the Weasley twins, they looked up at each other. A smirk plastered around the older twin’s face and two brows raised from the younger twin. 

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, George?” Fred gushed. 

“I think I know what you’re thinking, Fred.” George replied. 

“Time to take the queen down.” They chanted. 

____________________ 

Before the twins entered their potions class with Snape, they stopped outside the door, looking at each other. 

“Ready, George?” 

“Ready, Fred!” 

End of Chapter 2

____________________

Taglist:  @abrunettefangirlnerd @gloryekaterina @lilypad-55449 @memekingofwwiii​  @leovaldez37

Author’s note: Chapter 2 finally posted <3 Enjoy! 

#George Weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley imagines #george weasley au #george weasley reader insert #george weasley #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley au #fred weasley reader insert #harry potter au #harry potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter fanfiction #loving-daisy george weasley #loving-daisy works #loving-daisy au #loving-daisy masterlist #loving-daisy cry for me george weasley x reader #loving-daisy cry for me #loving-daisy cry for me au

[hadleeestenlily]

One of the Boys | (ATYD timeline)

One of the Boys | (ATYD timeline)

paring: Regulus Black x James Potter (Jegulus/Starchaser)

genre: Marauders Era, Harry Potter

warnings: child abuse, graphic depictions of violence, major character death

summary: Follows the timeline of ATYD through Regulus’s PoV, 1972-Death.

status: incomplete

!! This is only the first chapter !! You can read the full fic here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29866974/chapters/73494978

Chapter One | First Year: The First Meeting

“Hurry up! We haven’t got all day, Reg.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, trailing after his older brother with little enthusiasm. He wasn’t nearly as excited as Sirius, who'd been bouncing off the walls before they even left for Platform Nine and Three Quarters. When he had come back for the summer, he could hardly shut up about Hogwarts. It was the only thing he seemed to talk about anymore, specifically during Regulus’s piano lessons, and dancing lessons, and history lessons, and all the other lessons his mother had given him to busy himself before he got to school. It seemed she wanted him to learn every useful thing he could before studying magic, and Regulus couldn’t really blame her. Ever since Sirius got back, he’d become a complete waste of space, lounging around and scribbling away at what he said to be homework, though Regulus knew he was secretly writing letters to his friends.

Sirius had dragged him into a compartment on the train, pulling Regulus by the sleeve and saying, “You’ll love them! I know you will.” Surprisingly, Regulus had let him. He wouldn’t usually encourage such behavior, but it wasn’t every day that Sirius looked so cheerful, and part of him didn’t want to ruin that, though he’d never admit it.

Summer had been a right mess, though he wouldn’t admit that either. Bellatrix’s wedding went smoothly, but after that, everything had started going downhill. Sirius just didn’t know when to stop. He never did.

“Here we are,” Sirius said with a grin, sliding open the carriage door and gesturing to the seats.

There was only one other person in the compartment, a straw-haired boy that looked like he could be younger than Regulus. He was abnormally small for a twelve-year-old, and he looked nervous, as if he wasn’t quite sure whether he was sitting in the right seat. His eyes darted between Sirius and Regulus, no doubt noticing how similar they appeared. Maybe he was actually having trouble telling them apart.

“Sirius,” the boy greeted, finally, giving the older brother a timid smile. “Have you seen James yet?”

“He’ll be along,” Sirius said, waving a hand dismissively. “Oh!” he added, as if he’d already forgotten, “This is my brother, Regulus. Reg, this is Peter.”

Peter smiled cheerily, but Regulus shot the expression down with a fierce glare. He didn’t have time for making friends with filthy half-bloods. Instead, he brushed into the compartment and sat down in the corner seat, placing his chin in his hand and staring broodingly out the window.

“Er… Sorry ‘bout him,” Sirius said apologetically, stuffing their stuff into the luggage rack.

“S’ok,” Peter said, twisting his hands anxiously in his lap.

Sirius plopped down on the seat next to Regulus and nudged his elbow, to which Regulus shot him a glare. Surprisingly, his brother didn’t return it. He only raised an eyebrow at him quizzically, silently asking why he was in such a foul mood. But Regulus didn’t want to talk about it. He never wanted to talk about it. He wouldn’t even know where to start.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. The source of all their troubles always led back to one person in particular; their mother. Sirius knew that better than anyone, it seemed; even better than Regulus. He always knew exactly how to get on her bad side, and did so quite often. Too often, in Regulus’s opinion, but no matter how hard he tried to get Sirius to do as he was told, he just kept disobeying. He’d already fallen out of their family's favor for being placed in Gryffindor. You’d think that might’ve been enough, but no, not for Sirius. If anything, it had given him even more determination to be the worst kind of nuisance the Black family had ever seen.

Which led to Regulus’s other problem; what house he’d be placed in. He was terrified of what would happen to him if he got into Gryffindor, or any house other than Slytherin for that matter. His mother was so adamant that he not add to the list of family disappointments; first Andromeda and now Sirius. What would happen if a third Black child was led astray? Their family reputation would be in ruins. They would fall out of favor with the other pure-blood families, and what then? Regulus wasn’t sure, but he didn’t want to find out.

It was then that the door decided to slide open, cutting Regulus’s thoughts short. He didn’t even bother to greet whoever it was - just another dirty blooded wizard his brother had befriended - but his ears still pricked upon hearing the joy in Sirius’s voice as he welcomed the newcomer.

“James!” Sirius cried, jumping out of his seat and clapping the other boy on the shoulder.

Ah, yes. The infamous blood traitor.

“Hello Sirius, been a while,” James drawled, sounding just as cheerful. “You too, Pete.”

“Hiya James,” Peter replied, much more relaxed now that the other boy had arrived.

Regulus didn’t bother to greet him, or even glance at him. He just studied the view out his window all the more intently, watching as a girl chased an orange tabby cat down the platform, attempting to squeeze through the crowd so as to not lose track of it. He saw another girl hugging their mother goodbye, tears in her eyes. Pathetic, he thought silently.

Then Regulus heard rustling from behind him as James placed his luggage on the rack. “And who’s this?” he asked no one in particular.

“Ah, that’s just my prat brother. Don’t worry bout him,” Sirius said as the boys settled into their seats. “You seen Remus?”

As if on cue, the door slid open again. Regulus rolled his eyes, becoming increasingly agitated with the noise. Was it too much to ask for a little peace and quiet? As the chorus of greetings started again, he attempted to stay focused on the platform, watching as a small boy tried to stick his fingers through an owl cage. Regulus wanted to warn him, but instead he just grimaced as the bird pecked the boy’s finger, drawing blood, and watched him burst into tears.

“Lupin!”

“Hiya lads. How’s it been?”

“We should be asking you!” James laughed. “Not one owl all summer!”

“You know I’m practically a muggle over the holidays. Couldn’t even get into my trunk to do homework; they locked it up.”

Regulus scoffed at the word muggle. He couldn’t help it. It’d become a habit he’d picked up from his mother. She always seemed proud when he did it, and it certainly didn’t hurt her mood. It was too late, however. The boy was already frowning at him. He was on the taller side, with a shaved head of hair and a glower that seemed oddly familiar. Regulus found himself not fully despising this one. At the very least, he didn’t sound nearly as cheerful as the rest of them.

“This is Reg,” Sirius introduced, now that his presence had been acknowledged. “Say hello, Reggie.”

“It’s Regulus,” he corrected irritably. Sirius only used ‘Reggie’ when he wanted to sound older, even though Regulus was the one who acted more his age.

“My darling brother,” Sirius told the boys.

Then someone shoved a hand toward him, and Regulus finally looked up to meet the gaze of the boy sitting across from him.

“Hi Regulus, I’m James,” he said, with an annoyingly friendly smile. His head was topped with dark curls, and large round glasses took up most of his face, but it didn’t stop his eyes from twinkling brightly. Regulus felt his stomach flip, no doubt a reaction from studying James’s detestable features, and looked down at his hand with all the disgust he could muster.

“Potter,” he spat.

That earned him a slap upside the head, which he flinched away from. It didn’t hurt, but whenever Sirius touched him, it always managed to take him by surprise.

“Stop being such a little prick,” Sirius snapped. “These are my friends.”

Friends. Sirius’s ‘friends’ were half-bloods and blood traitors, and Gryffindors at that. Regulus shouldn’t be seen with them. With any of them.

“I didn’t want to sit here,” he snarled at Sirius. “You made me.”

Something flickered over Sirius’s face then, and Regulus thought it might’ve been disappointment, or even guilt, but it was gone so quickly that he thought he must’ve imagined it.

“Oh, go on, piss off, then,” Sirius said coldly. “Dunno why I bothered.”

Something boiled in Regulus’s chest. Sirius had no right to hold his convictions against him. He was only trying to make their family proud, something Sirius had failed at over and over again. He thought about slapping him back, but quickly decided against it. He didn’t feel like getting into a fight. That would require yelling and hitting, both of which Regulus wanted to avoid. Instead he stood, storming out of the car and slamming the door behind him. He made his way down the corridor, realising he hadn’t bothered to grab his bag. He decided he’d just go back for it once they arrived at the castle.

“Regulus?”

He stopped short, turning to see his cousin, Narcissa Black, poking her head out of a compartment door. She’d curled the ends of her new, platinum-blonde hair, and her bright blue eyes were narrowed at him suspiciously.

“Can you not find a seat?” she frowned.

He shrugged noncommittally at his cousin, not really wanting to sit with her either. Not if she was all cozied up next to her boyfriend, Lucius Malfoy. He didn’t want to have to watch them stick their tongues down each other’s throats, which he’d already seen plenty of at Bellatrix’s wedding.

“Come,” she beckoned to him.

He clenched his jaw in silent retaliation, but still did as he was told, walking toward the compartment timidly and pausing at the door. Thankfully, his sister was not with Lucius Malfoy, but with two other Slytherin girls, who smiled at Regulus fondly. They all wore the same silvery pin on their robes, encrusted with a ‘P’ for prefect. He’d almost forgotten that Narcissa had gotten the position, but now recalled how she’d offhandedly mentioned it at the wedding. She seemed quite proud of herself when she said it, but was quickly brushed aside without so much as a single voice of praise. Regulus had wanted to say something to her about it, but never got the chance.

“This is my cousin, Regulus,” Narcissa introduced. “It’s his first year at Hogwarts.”

“Hello,” he greeted them shyly.

“Wait,” one of the girls gasped, “Isn’t he the brother of your other cousin? The one who got into Gryffindor?”

Regulus flushed with shame, his eyes darting away from the girls as he grimaced. Apparently, Sirius had already formed a reputation at Hogwarts, which would no doubt only hurt Regulus’s image further. He wished his brother would just shut up and blend in for once.

Narcissa rolled her eyes. “Ugh, please don’t bring up Sirius. He’s such a disappointment. Don’t worry though. Regulus is nothing like him. Isn’t that right, Reg?”

Regulus hesitated for a second. He felt like saying it out loud would be wrong, like some sort of betrayal, so instead he just nodded curtly.

“See? He’ll end up in Slytherin for sure.”

Then Narcissa patted the seat beside her and Regulus obeyed, sitting down next to his cousin. The girls began to chat about their summer holiday, but Regulus didn’t feel inclined to join in. Instead he looked out the window, propping his head up on his hand like he’d done before, and as he watched the countryside whiz by, he couldn’t help but feel more out of place than ever.

* * *

When they finally arrived at Hogsmeade station, Regulus slumped back to his brother’s compartment, in search of his bag. When he made it to the door, he was surprised to find the seat was still occupied by none other than James Potter. He had kicked his feet up on the opposite bench and was sucking on a Liquorice wand contentedly. Regulus’s bag sat next to him, teetering dangerously on the edge of the cushioned seats. When he opened the door, James scrambled to his feet, pulling the candy from his lips as he gave the younger boy a once over.

“Er… Regulus. Right,” he said. He grabbed the strap of Regulus’s bag and offered it to him with a smile. “I figured you might come back for it.”

Regulus snatched it from him, carefully keeping his distance from the older boy.

“Didn’t steal anything, did you?” he snarled.

James frowned at him, shouldering his own bag. “No,” he replied indignantly.

“Good,” Regulus snapped. Then he rounded on his heel and began making his way off the train. He rummaged around in the bag, just to make sure that they really hadn’t stolen anything. It seemed everything was in its place, as far as he could tell, and he allowed himself a small sigh of relief. Down the platform, someone was calling first years, and he headed in that direction, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he went.

No one had told Regulus about the boat ride across the Black Lake. Unlike the other eager students, who awed at the reflection of the glowing castle, Regulus felt a wave of uneasiness wash over him. He studied the dark water warily as the students were called into the boats, but it wasn’t like he had much choice in the matter. He took a deep breath before stepping inside and taking a seat, staring contentedly at his feet for the duration of the trip. He wondered if Sirius had conveniently forgotten to mention the lake to him, or whether he was indulging in the slow torture Regulus was currently experiencing. The trip couldn’t have lasted more than ten minutes, but to Regulus, it felt like it’d taken ages.

Then came the even harder part: the sorting.

Regulus was too apprehensive from the boat ride - and too concerned about the sorting - to care much for the magical ceiling of the Great Hall, or the floating candles, or the intimidating row of teachers at the head of the room. He just wanted to get into Slytherin, please his parents, and get it over with. That would end up attracting the least attention possible. He just wanted to fit in, and as a pure-blood, and a Black, there was no better place than Slytherin.

As the first years made their way to the front of the hall, Regulus spotted Sirius sitting at the Gryffindor table. Their eyes met briefly, but Regulus quickly glanced away, not wanting to think about what would happen if he ended up like his older brother. He could only imagine what his parents would say - or do - none of which was pleasant.

He was at least thankful that his last name started with a ‘B.’ That meant he got to be one of the first ones to go, which was better than anxiously waiting for his turn. Still, he felt his heart drop into his chest when his name was finally called. He slowly made his way to the stool, sitting on it and placing the hat on his head. It covered his eyes and most of his nose, and he jumped when a small voice spoke in his ear.

“Interesting,” it said softly. “Another Black .”

Oh Merlin, Regulus thought, Please let me be in Slytherin.

“You want to be in Slytherin?” the hat asked, though it didn’t seem all that surprised. “Are you sure? You have plenty of courage; intellect too. Not to mention your determination...”

Yeah, determination to be in Slytherin, Regulus thought sarcastically.

If the hat could laugh, Regulus thought it might’ve, because when it spoke again, it sounded exceedingly amused.

“How very resourceful of you,” it said gleefully. “Have it your way... SLYTHERIN!”

Regulus felt an enormous wave of relief crash over him, and he took the hat off, placing it back on the stool as he looked toward the uproarious table on the far right side of the room. Narcissa was smirking at him, her eyes twinkling with pride. He felt a surge of satisfaction then, and made his way to the table, his peers shaking his hand excitedly.

Suddenly, a boy with greasy black hair and a long, pointy nose patted him on the back. “Lucky you’re not a foul git like your brother, eh Black?”

Regulus felt a hot sear of anger flash through him, and he had the overwhelming urge to break the boy’s already ugly looking nose. He shoved the feeling down, however, as he always did, instead following the boy’s gaze over to the Gryffindor table. His eyes landed on Sirius, who was staring directly at him. His expression was unreadable, but there was something heavy in his gaze. After a second, Sirius looked away, his long hair falling into his face as he turned towards James to say something.

Regulus watched them for a moment before Narcissa grabbed his shoulders and smothered him in a hug. He cringed, trying to squeeze out of it, but she was a lot stronger than he was. Finally, she pulled away.

“Our family is going to be so proud, Regulus!” she beamed, elated. “I can’t wait to show you everything! You’re going to love our common room.”

Regulus only smiled, too taken aback to say anything. He rarely ever got hugs, especially not from his family, but he had to admit she seemed freer here; happy even. Possibly more exuberant than Regulus had ever seen her at home. She sat him down beside her, and the sorting continued. He attempted to catch Sirius’s eye again, but his brother didn’t so much as glance in his direction for the rest of the ceremony.

The feast was a welcome distraction from this, however, and Regulus indulged himself in the wide selection of foods. He never got to choose what he ate at home, so this small freedom was a welcome one. Then, when dessert came, he regretted filling his plate so much, thinking he might combust if he had one more bite.

“But you barely had anything!” Narcissa exclaimed as she offered him a platter of chocolate eclairs.

Regulus only shook his head, nauseated just by the thought of taking one. His cousin shrugged, picking out one for herself and lowering it onto her plate.

The greasy haired boy had introduced himself as Severus Snape, and the boy to his left was Garrick Mulciber. To Regulus, they both seemed frightfully impertinent, but Narcissa talked to them conversationally, smiling wickedly whenever they began to complain about the other houses. Severus brought up a group called ‘the marauders’ once or twice, but Regulus wasn’t curious enough to listen to his pompous complaints. Instead, he chatted with the first year who’d sat down next to him, a freckled boy named Bartemius Crouch.

“They just call me Barty though,” he told Regulus through a spoonful of pudding. “I’m jealous. Regulus sounds much smarter.”

“Well, thanks,” Regulus said with a small smile. “I think Barty is alright.”

Barty let out a sharp laugh in response. “Yeah, right,” he said sarcastically, grinning as he took another helping of pudding.

Regulus smirked and shrugged. “Actually, I think Sirius has the coolest-”

“For Salazar’s sake, please don’t bring him up,” Narcissa interjected. “You’ll only make things worse for yourself.”

Regulus glanced over at her, wondering if she was joking, only to be met with a look of genuine aversion. He blinked at her for a moment before turning his gaze toward his crumb filled plate. Suddenly, he felt quite bad for his older brother. Sure, he had a knack for trouble and a flair for rebellion, and he did bring quite a mess to their family name, but he was still Sirius. He was still their family.

Narcissa seemed to notice his dejection and let out an annoyed sigh. “Don’t you remember what happened with Andromeda?” she asked tightly.

Regulus jerked his head up to look at her. He didn’t need reminding.

#atyd #jegulus #james potter #regulus black #sirius and regulus #wolfstar #all the young dudes #ootb #one of the boys #narcissa black #sirius black #black family #noble house of black #remus lupin #marauders #marauders era #fanfic #james and lily