#made me think about how our poor commander could have been during this era

[new-anon]

sappy old men in a perpetual honeymoon phase

#codywan #commander cody #cc 2224 #obi wan kenobi #SWR spoilers #kinda ??? #SWR spoilers from here on: #I was losing my MIND seeing the clones again in this show #a bittersweet reunion tho bc it seems like there’s so little of them that survived 66.... and they’re so old... #they really aged from hunks to bears 😭😭 #I must admit I’ve had codywan on the brain lately #made me think about how our poor commander could have been during this era #even though everything in the galaxy has changed there are 2 things that stay the same: #tatooine is a dump and the general smells the same as he always has.. #I have so many (codywan) thoughts and not enough time to process any of it!!!

[destiniesfic]

132 Hours, Chapter 3:

“Let me step on your back,” I say abruptly.

Previous

Read chapter 3 on AO3, or read below:

“Sherlock Holmes.”

I barely have to think about it. “Sherlock Holmes was an omega.”

“No.” Cardan sounds totally affronted. “No way. How can you even say that?”

For lack of anything better to do, we have been playing this game for nearly an hour. Mostly fictional characters, but some historical figures, too, who are up for debate. As much as alphas would love to lay claim to every known conqueror, it just isn’t realistic. Cardan and I have already gone back and forth on Alexander the Great and Ivan the Terrible and Ghengis Khan. Designations live in a kind of middle space between gender and sexual orientation, so people make assumptions based on the way you present in society, but also whether you’re an alpha, an omega, or a mythical beta is, technically, no one’s business but yours. So, especially in older stories, these things go unsaid or are discreetly left for the reader to surmise.

“Why would he be an alpha?” I challenge.

Cardan is sitting in his corner, one leg propped up, elbow on knee, same as before. He shrugs. “I mean, he feels empowered to take charge in crime scene investigations, he’s assertive—”

“You’re thinking of the BBC reboot,” I scoff. “The way Conan Doyle wrote his Holmes wasn’t like that. He was an expert, yes, and knew it, but he admitted it when someone bested him, and he went out of his way to help vulnerable people. People who had been scammed, or… single women.”

As bad as it seems for omegas and women—especially omega women—now, it would have been even worse in the stratified Victorian era. We still have our strata, but they were more codified then:

Alpha men

Alpha women/omega men (depending on the situation)

Omega women

And, of course, it was all way worse when race and class got thrown in. The point is that someone like Violet Smith of “The Solitary Cyclist”—a woman, assumed omega, and poor—would have been in real trouble without Holmes’ help.

“So he’s an omega because he’s nice to widows?” Cardan asks, with a glare.

“No, he’s an omega because he pays attention,” I reply. “Alphas don’t need to pay attention the way Sherlock Holmes does. You just waltz in and traipse all over whatever or whoever and always get your way. Who cares about the details when you’re an alpha? But Sherlock Holmes looks hard at the little things. You don’t do that if you don’t have to, if you’re not used to walking into a room and assessing threats, figuring out the balance of power. All the time. Because it’s exhausting, but you have to do it.”

Cardan is quiet for a beat too long, and I realize I may have actually said more about myself than about Sherlock Holmes. But he spares me by saying, “Surely we’re not all that bad.”

I make a noncommittal sound.

“Your dad’s an alpha, right?” he continues. “He took you and Taryn in after your parents died. He didn’t have to do that.”

I have to keep myself from snorting. No one who’s met Madoc would ever describe him as particularly nice or even giving. “Did you know Vivi has a pet conspiracy theory that he killed our parents in the first place?”

“What?”

“Not himself, obviously. That he hired someone to sabotage the car we were in.” I don’t know why I tell him. The second it leaves my mouth it feels like a family secret, or an in-joke I’m not supposed to share. But I can’t stop talking. “I mean, it was just luck we weren’t killed, Taryn and Vivi and I. But my parents’ car was new. The brakes shouldn’t have given out like they did. Anyway, Vivi thinks he took us in because he felt guilty.”

“I mean, that’s… crazy to think your dad was involved.” But Cardan says it too slowly, and hastens to add, “He isn’t a supervillain.”

“Yeah, I know. Just with everything that happened after, the way he swooped in, she was always suspicious.” I feel my mouth twitch, but I don’t know whether I want to smile or scowl. “I think she wanted us to be like The Boxcar Children and run away to live in the woods.”

“Well, you’re getting the one-room, no-running-water experience now.”

I catch myself smiling—he’s funny—and force my mouth into a frown, scouring our little room again for anything useful. Nothing, nothing, nothing. Even the socket that would hold a bare lightbulb is empty. Finally, my eyes settle on the one tiny window, set close to the ceiling, letting in a meager amount of natural light that does seem to have grown brighter as we talked.

“Let me step on your back,” I say abruptly.

“You want to what?”

“Step on your back,” I repeat, exasperated. “Are you tall enough to reach that window without a stool?”

“No?”

“Well, neither am I.” I fold my arms. “So I’m going to need you to give me a boost.”

He arches a critical eyebrow. “Why don’t you just sit on my shoulders?”

I blink at him. “Because… I thought you wouldn’t want to put your head anywhere near my crotch? Given how I reek and all.”

“But you thought I’d want to be stepped on? Jesus.” Cardan rubs a hand over his face. “What do you think I’m into? Look, I’ll crouch down, you get on my shoulders and look out the window. It’s not like I’m putting my face in your vag.” I shudder, and he adds, “We’ll never have to talk about it again. Okay?”

“Sounds great to me,” I say.

He nods and crouches down. I am not prepared for the way my heart thumps in my chest at the sight of the guy who made my life miserable since I was in seventh grade, who pushed me during gym, who whispered vile things in my ear whenever he could, who empowered other kids to do the same or worse waiting for me to climb onto his shoulders with his head bowed. It’s not real power, it’s just temporary, but it is intoxicating.

Then Cardan says, “Taking your time, huh?” and I snap out of it.

“Why the rush?” I ask. “Got somewhere to be?”

“I was thinking anywhere but here would be great.” He looks up at me. “Whenever you’re ready.”

I swing my legs over him and let him hoist me up on his shoulders. I haven’t exactly been invited to participate in a ton of games of chicken fight in the pool, so it’s been some time since anyone carried me like this. Maybe not since Taryn and I were very small, just after our parents died, when Madoc would help us get things from high kitchen shelves. I gasp when I’m lifted. Cardan is strong enough that it seems effortless, but I also hear him let out a small grunt.

“Not a word,” I say, dreading the jab he might make about my weight. “Move me closer to the window.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Cardan mutters, but he obliges.

I am extremely conscious of his hands on my bare thighs, the way his muscles shift under my shoulders. Some alphas, like the guy who tried to grab me at the party, are kind of muscle-bound in an unattractive way. Not Cardan. Cardan has just the right amount to be fit and lean, with the bare minimum amount of body fat, but not so much muscle that he tips over into ungraceful. He’s a sports car of a person, lithe and elegant. It’s no mystery why his shirtless TikToks get so many views.

I get my hands on the windowsill so he’s not bearing my full weight, and then I groan. “Bad news.”

“What?”

“Well, I definitely can’t fit through here. I can kind of see the sky, so I would guess it’s maybe ten a.m. Otherwise there’s just a window well. Plastic and dirt. I can’t make out our surroundings at all.” I sigh. “We’re in a basement.”

There’s an awkward pause, and then Cardan says, “At least we know for sure.”

“Yeah. Put me down?”

He does, and we go back to our respective seats, mentally reviewing what we know. The only door is, of course, locked from outside. The floor is bare concrete, the ceiling exposed insulation and tubing, so we might be in a storeroom of some kind, or an unfinished basement in an older house. Our kidnappers left us with absolutely nothing, so no phones. Even my keychain, with the Swiss army knife Madoc gave me before my first summer at sleep-away camp, is gone.

We are growing hungrier and more sullen with each passing minute when there is a knock at the door.

Cardan and I glance at each other from our opposite sides of the room. “Um,” I say. Are kidnappers supposed to be polite?

Cardan shrugs one shoulder, then straightens up, lifting his chin in a decidedly imperious way. Trying to summon some air of command, some macho alpha-ness that will help us out of this. It could work—it is half working on me, I begrudgingly admit to myself, because my stupid brain is wired that way—if we weren’t both grimy from sitting on the floor and still a little woozy from the drugs.

“Come in,” he calls.

The door is opened slightly, and the first thing to poke through it is the barrel of a pistol. A 9mm, by the looks of it. Cardan’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.

“You kids willing to behave?” comes a voice. It’s a man’s voice, strangely melodious. I was expecting the sandpapery roughness of an old-school gangster. I know it’s stereotypical, but I’ve never been kidnapped before, and it’s not like they make a manual.

Cardan and I glance at each other again. I’m not sure what we’re looking to find in each other’s faces.

“Yeah,” I say. “We’re good.”

“Oh, good. I’d hate to shoot you.” The man pushes the door open the rest of the way, and I have to press my lips shut to keep from gasping. There are disfiguring scars that cut across his cheeks, down his jaw, even one across the bridge of his nose. I’m not even sure what makes scars like that, jagged and rough-edged. If it was a knife, it wasn’t clean work. Someone was making a point.

I am immediately relieved, though, because his resonant voice had made me think we could be dealing with a real alpha, someone whose words hold command. This man is of average height, average build. If not for the scars, for the obviously broken nose, he would be totally unremarkable.

“Who are you?” Cardan asks. I am reluctantly impressed that he manages to sound haughty in this situation. He’s sitting up straight with his back against the wall, one leg outstretched, the other bent, his foot planted on the floor. He’s resting his elbow on that knee, like it’s all effortless.

“Breakfast service,” replies the man, still pointing the pistol at us. He tosses a McDonald’s bag into the room, then he and the gun retreat, and the door shuts behind him. We hear the click of a lock and then, to my horror, the sound of a deadbolt sliding into place.

Cardan exhales and reaches for the bag.

“Don’t!” I exclaim. “Seriously, it might be drugged.”

“It—what?” he asks. “Now you decide to care about whether the food is drugged? This isn’t Flowers in the Attic, Jude. We’re hostages. They want to ransom us. They’re not going to poison us.”

I blink at him. “Flowers in the Attic? You’ve read a book?”

He rolls his eyes and reaches for the bag. “Well, if you’re not going to eat it, I will.”

When he opens the bag, the smell of sausage grease and egg hit me like a truck. My stomach growls. I am suddenly very aware that the last time I ate was before the party, and my nerves had kept me from eating much then. “What… is it?”

“Two McMuffins.” He looks up at me. “See? They don’t want to starve us. They’re keeping us alive.”

“They could still tamper with them. Sedatives or something. Keep us complacent, keep us from doing what we’re going to do, which is try to escape.”

Cardan arches an eyebrow. “Has anyone ever told you you’re unbelievably paranoid?”

I think of Taryn and purse my lips. “Did you know it wouldn’t kill you to take something seriously?”

He holds up one hand, fingers spread wide. “Okay. How about this. I eat a McMuffin because I am fucking starving, and if they put anything in it it’ll get me and work through my system faster. You can stay up scheming or whatever. If nothing happens after like fifteen minutes, you get to eat yours. Or if you decide to be stubborn, I’ll eat it. Deal?”

“It’ll be cold and gross.” I cross my arms. “But fine.”

“Good.” Cardan takes a McMuffin out of the bag—his hands are so big that it barely looks like enough food for him—and devours it in what must be record time. I turn my head away.

“Where’s the nearest McDonald’s, do you think?” I ask

“Huh?”

“We were in East Hampton. They don’t have one there.”

“Uh-huh. That’s a good point.” I look back to see Cardan sucking grease off his thumb. “Dunno. Closer to the middle of the island, maybe?”

“Maybe,” I echo quietly. Without knowing how long we were out, it seems impossible to figure out where they could have taken us. “You’re right. We couldn’t be in the city.”

Cardan shakes his head. “Nah, don’t think so. Too quiet, and like you said, that’s definitely daylight, so people’d be out and about.”

“Yeah,” I say, looking up at the window.

He looks at the window, too, but doesn’t say anything, and we lapse into silence. It’s strange, to be sharing space with him, to be quiet. I could never have imagined anything like it, not with our fraught history. There’s no world in which Cardan Greenbriar and I could be friends, but, at least temporarily, we are not enemies.

“Did you like it?” I asked at last, when the silence stops being neutral and begins to make me feel anew how tired and tense I am.

“Like what?”

“Flowers in the Attic.”

“Oh.” He blinks twice, his dark eyelashes fluttering. “I read it a few years ago, but, yeah. I did. You know, it was nice to read about a family that was more fucked up than mine.” He raises his eyebrows. “Spicy, too.”

I scoff. “How can your family be so fucked up you’d read a gothic novel for catharsis?”

Cardan drums his fingers on his knee. “How much do you know about my family?”

“You’re old money. One of those alpha families that claims they’re pure alpha for generations.” Which is pretty much impossible, but everyone in that tier of society tells the same lie. Half the kids in my school claim to be pure alpha, and on paper both of their parents are alphas. But while alpha men and women can reproduce—they have the right gametes—it’s not easy. More likely omega egg donors, and, before that, omega surrogates who were well-paid. It’s no wonder they see us as breeders.

I start ticking off additional facts on my fingers. “Your great-grandfather was one of the great American magnates, but it was his alpha daughter, Mab Greenbriar, who really made something of his millions. Your dad was her only son, so he inherited the whole corporation. You have five older siblings: Balekin, Elowyn, Dain, Caelia, Rhyia—”

Cardan holds up both his hands. “Yeah, yeah. I get the point.”

“It’s all on Wikipedia.” I shrug, and to sound less like a weird stalker, I add, “And Vivi and Rhyia are like best friends.”

“You know, and I know you said it before, but I do forget Vivienne’s your sister. She’s so cool.”

I roll my eyes. “Thanks.”

I get it, though. He probably thinks Vivi’s cool because she’s an alpha, but she also gets points for being the family rebel. Her biological dad, Madoc, adopted us all after the car crash that killed our parents, but she never wanted to be the natural successor he hoped for. Now she plays rugby at an all-girls’ college, has three cartilage studs and a septum piercing, shaves half her head, and is defiantly, unapologetically queer. It’s a different path than I would take, but marching to the beat of your own drum is definitely something that appeals to people.

“By the way,” Cardan says, “it’s been a few minutes and I feel fine. Well, as fine as one can feel having eaten only one McMuffin. I don’t feel any worse.”

“Okay.” I hold out my hand. “Toss me the bag.”

The bag crinkles when he picks it up, then he looks inside. “I think I’m owed a poison taster’s fee.”

“Huh?”

Cardan takes my McMuffin out of the bag, takes a bite out of it, then drops it back in the bag, which he proceeds to lob at my head. I catch it, face wrinkling in disgust. “Ew!”

“What? I need the calories more.”

I shake the bag at him. “I am not eating this,” I huff.

“We split the water bottle. That didn’t kill you.” Cardan sits back against the wall and closes his eyes. “Besides, who knows when they’re going to decide to feed us again?”

“You’re all so gross,” I mutter as I open the bag and pull out my breakfast. He’s right, and I hate that he’s right. I also hate that my hunger is enough to overcome my revulsion, at both the stolen bite and the undeniable fact that my McMuffin is now cold. I stuff it in my mouth, devouring the rest of it in only a few bites.

“Who’s gross?” he asks. “Alphas? Boys?”

“Alpha boys,” I inform him, with my mouth full.

“Big words from somebody whose designation’s known for leaking fluids everywhere.”

I fold my arms over my chest. “We’re not the only designation that leaks,” I point out. “We’re just the only one that gets shit for it. We’re the ones who’re thought of as gross while you and your type get to go around ruling the world.”

“Oh, sure. That has nothing to do with the way you guys are totally incapacitated for three straight days if you don’t take your drugs.”

“If we don’t get out of here, you’ll be just as screwed as I am,” I snap. “Stuck in a room with me? You won’t have a chance. We’re both going to become brainless fuck machines if that happens, so… shut the hell up.”

He does, to my surprise. I do too. I wipe my greasy hands on the McDonald’s bag, then crumple it into a little ball and toss it into the corner of the room. My anger is a living thing, running through my veins like electricity, vibrating under my skin. It’s been there for so long, but I would never have dared to say that to his face before. The rest of our situation is so absurd, so dire, it feels like there are no consequences for mouthing off at him.

That’s dumb, of course. There are always consequences. But at least they won’t be coming anytime soon.

“‘Brainless fuck machines,’” Cardan whispers quietly, and then he snickers.

“You—shut up,” I say, feeling unlikely mirth bubbling at the corners of my mouth. Cardan lets out another huff of laughter, and then I am giggling, and he’s laughing outright, clutching at his stomach. It’s ridiculous, all of my nerves coming out like that, but he’s laughing and it feels like there’s nothing for me to do but laugh too.

“Oh, man,” he says, wiping at his eyes. “I didn’t know you were a poet.”

“I’m serious!” I squeal, my abs cramping from laughing and trying not to laugh harder all at once. “That’s what happens!”

“God.” Cardan lets his head fall softly into the corner. “We are so screwed.” He points one finger up in the air. “Metaphorically. So far.”

“Jesus.” I cover my face with both of my hands. “Jesus.”

“Jesus was an alpha.”

I peek at him through my fingers. “He was not. He literally said ‘I am the Alpha and the Omega.’”

“I’m just fucking with you.” Cardan grins, his hair flopping in his face, but then his cheer vanishes abruptly. “Wait, you’re not actually religious, are you?”

I shake my head. “Not really.” But I still know that common theology holds that Jesus—and angels, and any other holy beings I don’t know about—are not alphas or omegas, but they aren’t betas, either. They are all things and nothing. Must be a good life. I pull my hands down and squint at him. “Were you worried about offending me?”

“Me?” Cardan shakes his head to toss his hair out of his face. “Nah.”

“Well, good.” I cross my arms again. “Because you’ve never cared before, and it’d really freak me out if you started now. Then I’d know we were both losing it for real.”

“I just thought…” He shrugs. “I mean, it’d be nice if one of us believed in something. That praying could help. I’d like to believe that. Seems tidy.”

“Yeah.” I let my cheek fall against the cold wall, too, and blink away the memories of screaming at the night sky, demanding someone give me my parents back. I can’t fall into that pit. I will not.

I just say, “I stopped believing that anyone was listening a long time ago.”

Cardan scratches at the wall with his finger. “Me too, Duarte,” he said. “Me too.”

Next

#jurdan #judecardan #jude x cardan #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #the cruel prince #the folk of the air #tfota #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #jurdan fanfic #mine: fic #fic: 132 hours

[emmelineparker308]

Father Dearest Part 7

Series Masterlist

Fandom: Harry Potter: Golden Trio Era

Pairing: Harry Potter x reader

Summary: Your third year at Hogwarts is about to start and with it come a lot of new changes. Harry, your best friend, and crush is in trouble from some man named Sirius Black. You try desperately to keep Harry safe but what happens when you find out some heartbreaking, mind-shattering information about your father?

Warnings: Angst, and suicidal ideations 

A/N: I want to thank everyone for the support and the love you have shown this series. I started it on a whim and didn’t realize that you all would like it this much. Thank you to everyone who’s been asking to get tagged, commenting, reblogging, liking, and sending me private messages. You guys are honestly my biggest motivation and inspiration to keep writing! Thank You genuinely from the bottom of my heart!

Previously on Father Dearest:  That night you decided that it was better to stop all the pain, all at once. You climbed up the Astronomy tower stairs, having to stop every two steps to catch your breath. Finally, you made it to the top and walked over to the balcony. Upon looking down you were terrified; it was a long way down. However, you knew you had to do it; you couldn’t go on like this. Everyone you loved either hated you or thought that you hated them. There was no going back, you closed your eyes tightly and threw yourself off the balcony.

Before you could jump two strong arms grabbed you and spun you away from the balcony. You fought to get the hands away from you but the more you fought the tighter the grasp held you. “Let me go Moony,” you cried.

“Not in a million years,” he answered. “I did not raise you, your mother did not die for you, your father did not fight for you, in order for you to throw yourself off a balcony.” You wailed although you had no tears left due to dehydration, you still let out a painful cry and before you knew it you passed out.

When you came to, you were laying in a nice warm bed. “You’re awake,” Moony exclaimed as he brought in a tray of all your favorite foods. “Eat,” he commanded but you only wrinkled your nose, your appetite still nonexistent. Moony took the spoon and force fed you a couple of things, and  as he cleaned you up, he chuckled.

“What’s so  funny?”

“You just reminded me of the times I had to feed you as a child. Once you stuffed everything I gave into your mouth and then sprayed it back at my face,” he laughed fondly at the memory.  

“Moony”

“Hmm”

“My dad didn’t kill Harry’s parents.”

Remus turned to face you, the facial expression that held joy a second ago was replaced by seriousness. “I am so sorry, my love.” You had opened your mouth to explain once again that your father was not capable of killing his best friend, but Moony placed a finger to your lips. “I am sorry because for thirteen years I’ve accused your father of a crime that he was incapable of committing. He loved me like his own brother and would have laid his life down for any of ours. I should have known better than to suspect him of this crime. He loved James more than anyone in the world. The evidence was just piled up against him that it blinded my eyes. However now I know who really betrayed Harry’s parents. I’m also sorry because I let you believe for years that your parents didn’t want you. The day I took you in, your mother, she walked up to my apartment in tears and gave me you. She made me promise to let you know that you were loved. She made me promise to raise you with all the luxuries that your parents would have provided for you. I was to love you as a mother and a father. I let her down, she made me promise all these as she breathed her last and I let her down.” Moony finished his monologue and faced you. Your eyes were filled with tears of joy and of sadness, you were so relieved that at least one person believed that your father was innocent. But upon hearing how guilty Moony felt you grabbed his arm and brought him into a soft, warm hug.

Once your sniffling went down, Moony forced you to drink some of his dreamless sleep potion. He claimed that for at least one night, you needed to rest without being haunted by nightmares. After you had taken the potion you laid awake for a while thinking about the events that took place this year. The year that started off on a sort of good news ended up with the man you were hopelessly in love with hating you, the people that you grew to hate for thirteen years being innocent of the crimes you accused them off, and you almost ending your life. Tears stung your eyes as you remembered all these things but before you could wallow in your lonesome Moony was by your side.

“Please don’t cry sweet child. You have cried enough for one lifetime. I promised your mother that I would never let you cry. Please don’t,” he whispered as he held you close to him.

“Can you tell me about them?” you drowsily state.

You heard Moony’s chuckle as he started telling you about your parents. “They were a troublesome duo. Your parents met during our first ride to Hogwarts. They were mischievous even then. Although back then they weren’t romantically involved. Your mother was such a great woman, kind, compassionate, as well as funny and brave. She stood for what she believed in and never once let anyone bully her into changing her view on anything. It was her third year when she found out about me being a werewolf. She held that secret close to heart, she would brew me all sorts of healing potions around the time of the full moon. Did I mention she was brilliant and beautiful? It was our fourth year that your father realized his true feelings for her. But like most teenagers they walked around their feelings for years. It was heartbreaking and nauseating at the same time. Your father was very handsome himself so you can imagine the effect he had on the girls at school. It used to drive your mum mad,” you could hear the smirk in his voice, “She once went after a girl who slipped a love potion into sirius’s cup with a bat. We caught her before she was able to hurt the girl, by the way. Then, our sixth year rolled around and it was as if everything changed. Sirius and your mother finally confessed their feelings for one another, Lily and James decided to give it a try. The darkness around us was brewing and perhaps because of that we all grew up fast. By the end of the seventh year James proposed to Lilly and Sirius proposed to your mum. We had a double wedding within weeks of graduation. And then a year or so later we were blessed with a god daughter, and god son.  

Hearing the happy stories of your parents and their friends, for the first time in months, you went to sleep with a smile on your face.

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

“I told him,” Hermione said casually.

“You did what?” you almost screamed making Hermione jump a bit.

“I had to”

“’Mione the whole reason I told you was so that you’d stop bothering me, and you promised to keep it a secret,” you whisper yelled at her. You both were talking behind a hidden passageway, one that you were sure the boys knew nothing off. You started to notice that every time Hermione was cordial with you in public, the boys (mainly Harry) would be cold towards her. This, of course, lead to you insisting that you meet away from prying eyes. Hermione had laughed at the idea, saying that we are not lovers to meet in secret but at your insistence she caved.

“He needed to realize the impact his actions had on you,” she firmly said, and then took your hands in hers. “For Godric’s sake (Y/N/N), his words and actions made you want to end your life.” A tear had fallen from her eyes as she said this, it terrified her to even think about that night. To think about what would have happened if Lupin hadn’t gotten there on time.

“What did he say?” you asked letting curiosity get the better of you.

Hermione let out a deep breath, you almost told her to not say anything to you, not wanting to hear the cruel words you were sure Harry had said. “Honestly, he didn’t say anything. He stayed silent for a long time, so long that I thought someone had cast a Body Binding curse on him. Then, he just got up and left for his dormitory. Ron told me the next day that he hadn’t slept the whole night. Ron was sure he was crying, said he heard him sniffle all night. In the morning Harry said he wanted to find you and apologize. But since you don’t seem to ever be in the common room, and you appear and disappear so quickly during class times, he hasn’t gotten the chance.”

Hermione eyed your expressions; you were taken aback that Harry wanted to apologize. You were also kind of ashamed that you thought so lowly of him. “Well ‘Mione, if he really wanted to apologize, he would have found a way to get to me,” you responded.

“(Y/N/N) he stayed up all night two days ago hoping to see you sneak into the common room after everyone left. He didn’t believe me when I said that you haven’t slept in our dorm in weeks,” Hermione stated with a bit of curiosity hidden in her tone. Much to her disappointment you refused to answer the question that was hanging in the air, and reluctantly Hermione left to go to the Gryffindor Tower.

After the incident at the tower Moony didn’t want you out of his sight. And frankly speaking you didn’t want to be near the students either. Moony had someone (house elves) fetch your essentials from the girls dormitory and you moved into his quarters. You ate, slept and studied in there. You would go outside of that sanctuary only for classes and your daily visits to Hagrid and Blackie.

Ah, yes, poor Blackie. You felt bad because now that you moved into Remus’s room, your nightly cuddles with the beautiful dog stopped. Not only that, Blackie was subjected to listening to all of your feelings. You had tearfully mentioned to him about your field trip to the Astronomy Tower balcony, and he was crying in pain as well. That entire day he followed you around, granted you were walking around the edge of the forest, but still he refused to leave your side until it was time for you to eat dinner.  

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

The visits to Hagrid’s hut were quiet depressing. He tried to be in good spirits but with Buckbeak’s sentencing and his professor job not going as greatly as he had hoped his mood was flat almost all the time now.

“Hagrid, why don’t you sit?” you asked the friendly giant of a man. He was bustling around his hut, trying to seem busy so that you weren’t able to see his tears.

“Nah (Y/N/N), I got to make ‘ou a cuppa tea,” he muttered out, trying to speak in a low voice so you wouldn’t detect his voice breaking due to pain.

“No, Rubeus Hagrid, I am commanding you to sit down,” you forcefully state as you pull at him. Your force was no match to the half- giant, you knew that but Hagrid obliged anyways. “Now you sit, and I’m going to make you a cuppa tea.” You got to work on the tea, and at first it was a bit hard, Hagrid’s pots and pans were made for him, it was quite heavy for a normal human to pick up. But soon you had a nice cup of tea poured out for him, and as he was enjoying that you whisked your wand and cleaned around his hut.

“Ya know I coudda done ‘hat,” Hagrid protested.

“Ah, you see Hagrid that’s the beauty of having people care for you,” you sass “they do things for you, even though you are very well capable of doing them yourself, because they like you.”

Hagrid smiled and looked at you for a minute. “You’r so much like your mother.”

His eyes and yours widened at this statement. “I shouldn’t said ‘hat. I should not have said ‘hat,” he fussed.

“It’s okay Hagrid,” you reassured him. “I know about my parents.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, I found out that day at Hogsmeade. And just so you know, no matter what you believe, my father did not betray the Potters. He could never,” you tearfully state and before Hagrid could say anything you ran out of his hut.

“ (Y/N/N), wait,” you heard a voice call from behind you. Though the owner of that voice hasn’t spoken to you in months, it was still one that you would recognize anywhere. Hearing his voice only made your steps increase in speed, you were upset and crying, you were vulnerable, and this was not a form you wanted him to see you in. “(Y/N/N) please,” you heard the desperation in his voice as he was closing in on you. You felt silly, running away from him like this, when you spent weeks and months hoping this would happen.

“Please,” Harry stated as his hand grabbed hold of your wrist and brought you to his chest. He held you there for a minute, tears coming from his eyes, and yours. The scent of vanilla and pine cones filled your senses, once again filling you with the calmness you desperately needed. But the calmness left you as the events of the past months flooded your vision. You ripped yourself out of his grasp. Tears of anger and hurt flowed freely.

“What do you want Harry? What do you want now? You think that an apology is going to make everything better? You cut me out of your life, isolated me and made me feel like I was nothing to you. You were hurt, I get that, Merlin’s beard do I get that. I know you better than I know myself, and for a second I let myself think that you knew me better than anyone else. But that’s not true, I hurt for months, for months, I was crying out in excruciating pain and you did nothing. In fact, you did a little more than nothing, you added to the pain. I’m not blaming you for my decision to end my life, that was a spur of the moment, dumb decision that I made. But Harry, hearing you say that I would kill you, sent me over the edge. You know that I would gladly take the killing curse for you, jump in front of anything harming you, but then you still said those words. What was I supposed to do? How was I supposed to feel?”

You fell to the ground as your monologue left you exhausted, and you sobbed into your hands. Harry, who was dumbfounded at your outburst, fell next to you. He cautiously held you, thinking that maybe you’d not want him to touch you. But when you didn’t move away, he held onto you tighter as he sobbed alongside you. After what seemed to be eons, he cupped your face with his hands and made you face him. “I’m so so sorry. I was hurt and instead of facing my sadness and reality I decided to punish you for something you had no control over. I am so sorry. I never meant any of the words I said and now more than ever I feel like an idiot. I can’t even imagine what would have happened if Lupin hadn’t been there that night. And to think it was from what I said, from the way I’ve been treating you. You tried so hard to talk to me, to reach out. You’ve always been there for me and  the one time you needed me I just left you, added to your pain. I’m sorry (Y/N/N) and I know that my words can never make up for how I made you feel. If you want to never speak to me again or hit me or jinx me I understand.”

You sobbed into his chest. You both knew that Harry Potter could do the worst things imaginable and still have the place in your heart reserved for him intact. His apology is all you needed. It was all you were craving, his attention, his touch, his support, and reassurance. It’s all you needed to feel like yourself again.

“If you ever hurt me again Harry Potter, I will jinx you into another dimension,” you sniffle out.

“Never again,” he promised in tears. He brought your face closer to his and without waiting brought your lips to  connect with his. You imagined your first kiss to be firework filled, but it was a different feeling. You were filled with warmth but also safety. You felt safe even though you were standing by the forbidden forest in the middle of the night. With Harry’s arms wrapped around you and his lips on yours, you felt the safest you’ve ever felt in your life.

Taglist: @missmulti​​ @may-machin​ @magicalaquarian​ @junkersandroadies-son​ @prongsyy​ @cute-but-weirdo​ @lozzybowe​ @minecraftlover444​ @selmeuuh @play-morezeppelin​ @ilovespideyyy​ @wecouldbreakthedistance @whothefuckstolemykeds​ @short-potato​ @lovestomanyfandoms @loser-lover​ @must-be-a-weasley-92​pepelachanel    @lozzybowe​ @writingmi @lovestomanyfandoms​ @amanda-rotigliano​ @sir-lili​

#Harry Potter #harry potter series #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter marauders #harry potter x reader #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #remus lupin fanfiction #sirius black x daughter!reader #remus lupin x daughter!reader #golden trio era #golden trio fanfiction #Marauders #marauders fanfiction

[nad-zeta]

Match up 🌈

Hi Zeta! Could I get a matchup for Ikesen, please? :3c Basic info: Sagittarius sun (I relate mostly to the truth-seeking, philosophical side of Sag), Gemini moon (addicted to gathering information), Libra rising (just coming off as a nice person on first meeting). INFP, Hufflepuff.

I’m very concerned with ethics and can have a quick temper about perceived injustices; I often feel upset about human and animal suffering, and I’m willing to throw down over someone being hurtful to others. On the downside, I probably have too much pride about my intelligence and also get angry if I feel like someone is talking down to me or dismissing my concerns.

Self-evaluation and change are very important to me. I can never be perfect about how I respond to people, but with experience and loss comes wisdom, and I’ve worked to have more restraint in the way I talk to people even when I’m angry. Even if I’ll never be 100% fair and still make mistakes, I keep thinking about how to do better and trying.

I often spend time listening to people with no outward judgment, so friends, acquaintances, and co-workers are able to feel that I accept and respect them, and I can set people at ease. It’s important to me to be a good listener and to respond in a way that is helpful and supportive for a person’s specific struggles.

My career is in education, currently tutoring college writing & study skills and supervising a peer-turoring program. I love reading about how the brain works and will soon be applying to a graduate program for Learning Sciences. I’m also fascinated with the science of human behavior and relationships.

My undergraduate degree was in English with a focus in creative writing, though with my interest in education now, writing is more of a hobby (that I often avoid). I enjoy sketching as well.

Other than the temper, weak points are a lifelong struggle with depression/anxiety/self-esteem and a tendency to get paralyzed and demotivated by how much I’m already falling short of my standards. I procrastinate a lot and feel like I should be doing more to help people.

I love cats (especially my cat, of course) and pandas. Like a panda, I’m vegetarian and often feel like I have no energy fjsjdnfnwnncjf.

Although I don’t have any firm belief in a higher power or the supernatural, I’m not willing to rule out the idea that spiritual beings / phenomena exist. They haven’t been scientifically proven, but they haven’t been disproven, either!

And uh, I’m bi/pan (grew up identifying as bi so it’s hard to let go of the label even though pan probably fits better) and polyamorous, although outside of an established relationship, I have very little interest in sex. I am also biracial (white/Asian). With all of that, it can be hard to feel like I’m really “at home” anywhere. But I think it helps with having a flexible perspective about diversity.

Oof! That was a lot! Thank you for reading all of it and thank you for being so generous with your time in writing match-ups!

Hi dear! Thank you so much for the request and sorry for making ya wait sooooo long hehe🙈😅! Awww girl I love writing these matchups, so its no problem! I hope you enjoy it and I hope you have the best day!  (⋈◍＞◡＜◍)。✧♡

So I match you with……Hideyoshi

So the first time the two of you really interacted all hell broke loose. You were brought back to the castle by Masamune and was presented before Nobunaga. He had declared that you were to be the new Oda princess. You honestly had a problem with that as you didn’t want to feel like you were a burden or well that you owed them anything, so you insisted Nobunaga give you a real job to earn your keep. The man found you most amusing, not only had you fearlessly saved his life, but here you were, now before him unpleased with being a princess, a title most people in the country would kill for. He gave you his classic smirk “Very well then lucky charm, I shall name you as our new castle chatelaine.” You nodded in satisfaction at that, and just before you could start to relax, you felt someone’s gaze burning a hole through you. 

You turned over to see Nobu’s right-hand man glaring at you, if looks could kill you would be dead, and TBH you were starting to lose your temper with these men. It wasn’t until Hideyoshi said something that made you go off the handle “My lord, I don’t trust this woman, who is to say she won’t kill you in your sleep, or that she was the one  responsible for the fire in the first place.” At that, you scoffed and rolled your eyes “Why would I set a building on fire just to save the dude I am supposedly trying to kill.” Before anyone knew it, you and Hideyoshi were at each other throats. Both of you were being pulled apart by the fellow warlords before things escalated too quickly. Finally, Nobunaga set Hideyoshi straight and dismissed you from the council room to acquaint yourself with the castle

You kept your head down and worked hard, and you were most definitely loved by all the castle staff. You seemed to look past their titles and statuses and got to know them as people, they loved that you never judged them and that you would always be there for them, a friendly ear to listen to their problems and concerns, while giving good constructive advice. This trait of you had also earned you a lot of respect among the warlords, and soon you became quite good friends with most of them. Mitsunari and Ramnaru in particular.

TBH you loved the little angel Mitsunari, as the two of you would often bond over your love for books, reading and knowledge. He loved studying the art of war while you loved learning about people, their brains, behaviours and their relationships. Everyone absolutely adored you, well, all but Hideyoshi. 

But that all ended one day when Mitsunari asked if you would like to help him. Mitsunari needed someone who could assist him during the soldiers training drills, and you were all too happy to assist. You sat beside him and helped him with the paperwork. You had noticed that the chain of command would break and that certain people would be better suited for other units. During your lunch break, Hideyoshi walked up to you and Mitsunari, and you voiced your concerns. He looked at you dumbfounded, how did a woman know so much about human relationships and behaviour. Mitsunari chimed in and very excitedly stated that, he had seen you study the human brain and the science of their behaviours and relationships. Hideyoshi thought for a moment then nodded, “Okay then, show me in which unit you think these men would be best suited”. They continued their training drills, and by the end of it, Hideyoshi was Hella impressed with you!

He wanted to trust you, he really did, but he was caught between duty and his own emotions. That was until one day. On a whim, Nobunaga decided to bring his lucky charm with him to battle. You were hesitant at first but going to war with the Oda’s meant that you wouldn’t have time to procrastinate and that you would have a golden opportunity to help people. You had been studying medicine for a while now, as Ieyasu had joined your and Mitsunari’s book club. 

The two of you work together patching up injured soldiers all afternoon and judging by the influx of wounded men things weren’t looking too good. That night you had helped Masamune with making supper for everyone. You had stood in front of the big pot, scooping the rice dish into everyone’s bowls when you noticed something peculiar. Hideyoshi was holding out his bowl with his left hand. This was strange as he was right-handed and would usually hold it out with his dominant hand. You made a mental note of his behaviours and watched him as everyone ate. That’s when you noticed that he wasn’t using his dominant arm at all. 

Once everyone had retired for the night, you pulled the warlord aside and confronted him. He led you to his tent and unwrapped his arm showing you his wound. You were shook, it was a deep cut across the length of his arm. You lost your temper at the sight “How stupid could you be hiding a severe wound like that, what if I got infected, what if you bled out.” As you ranted about all the possible what-ifs of him not seeking medical treatment sooner, you had him sit down and started gently cleaning and bandaging the wound. 

He had realized at that moment that you were a genuinely kind woman and that he most definitely could trust you. And at that moment you saw something that melted away all your anger, worry and frustration. Hideyoshi’s genuine smile. It was absolutely radiant. Like the sun coming up from the horizon in the morning.

Since that day Hideyoshi was a completely different person towards you. He would often invite you to his manor to help him clean and care for the deep gash on his arm. Once his arm was healed, he would invite you to ask your opinion about different soldiers behaviour and relationships, and where you thought them best suited. Honestly, any excuse just to see you and chat with you. Soon your tea date moved to the local tea houses, and you found yourself enjoying Hideyoshi’s company more and more. He loved the way your eyes would light up when you talk about your interests in science and the human brain. He loves how you cared so much for people and animals and couldn’t stand injustice

In fact, one day as the two of you were walking around the market together, you spotted a group of men bullying a poor defenceless cat. Your blood was boiling, and in an instant, you were there to rescue the cat from the men. Luckily for you, Hideyoshi was hot on your trail, as it had slipped your mind that people in this era carried around weapons. After Hideyoshi fought off the men, he looked over at you to see you cradling the cat in your arms. His heart melted, even more so when you gave him the puppy dog eyes asking if you could keep the poor little thing. Honestly, he could never say no to you. Both you and Hideyoshi had long ago fallen in love with each other, but both of you were just low key to shy to admit it

He decided one day that he just had to tell you how he felt, so he planned out a romantic dinner for the two of you. He made sure to prepare all your favourite vegetarian dishes. As the two of you ate, you could tell something had been bothering him. After dinner, the two of you went outside to sit and enjoy the warm summer breeze. This was the moment Hideyoshi decided to blurt out all his feeling for you. You simply smiled at the silly man and kissed him, returning the feelings.

The two of you made the cutest couple, like you, Hideyoshi love, love loved to help people. He is known as the doting mother hen after all. One of the qualities he loved most about you is your kind heart. Often he would go with you and assist you in teaching the street children how to read and write. He would often steal glances at you and smile at you. He loved how sweet, gentle and patient you were towards the children. You never lost your temper with them, and they loved you so much, they loved that they could come to you with their problems, you would always provide them with helpful and supportive advice which they really appropriated

You loved to spend time with Hideyoshi. Even if that meant being in the same room and doing your own thing. You would often sit in his room and sketch while he worked on admin. You loved the way his eyes lit up, and the bright smiles he would give you, whenever you showed him your finished work. He loved your sketches, and he would often low key steal them and hang them up in his room on full display for all to see your beautiful talent

Anxiety and depression is no problem for this doting mother. Whenever you are having an anxiety attack or going through s depression spell, he will be sure to be, right by your side to support you throughout it. He will pull you into his arms and just hold you, whispering reassuring words in your ears. He knows you have a tendency to be too harsh on yourself and hold yourself at a ridiculously high standards. He will spend hours just rubbing soothing circles on your back and whisper sweet nothings in your ears. This man will dote on you so hard that your anxiety and depression would be soothed as quick as they manifested.

Hideyoshi’s all-time favourite is just holding you in his arms for hours and hours as you read to him, the newest piece of your creative writing or tell him the newest fun fact you had learned from your studies. He loves nothing more than to spend a quiet evening with you cradled in his arms sharing sweet kisses as the two of you exchange stories of each others day

Other Potential matches……………. Ieyasu 

I hope you enjoyed it, love! (◠‿◠✿)❤🌼

#matchups #ikesen matchup #match ups #toyotomi hideyoshi #hideyoshi toyotomi #ikemen sengoku hideyoshi #ikesen hideyoshi #hideyoshi matchup #submission

[xoxardnekoxo]

Movie Review: Mulan (2020)

WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD!

Ah, Mulan. One of my all-time favorite Disney movies. I loved it so much I had a life-size plush Mushu, a Disney Beanie Baby talking Mushu, a Mulan Barbie, every action figure made, a chirping Crikee, and even a Mushu/Crikee alarm clock. It’s no surprise that when Disney announced a live action version of this movie, I was all over it. The three-time delay in theaters due to the pandemic was disappointing, but then again, so was having to pay $30 on top of a monthly fee I already pay for Disney+.

When the movie was first announced, we knew right away that three things would be lacking that were in the beloved cartoon:

1. Mushu 2. Shang 3. Songs

I immediately jumped on this band wagon at the announcement of no Mushu:

Supposedly the actual country of China strongly disliked Disney’s animated interpretation of an actual legend from their homeland. I don’t know the full details, but I do know that with that in mind, Disney wanted to make the live action version of the movie more authentic to the actual story. This really wasn’t meant to be a remake of the cartoon, but a more accurate take on real events.

I know it’s Disney and that usually means music, but honestly, I’m okay with no songs. I outgrew musicals 15+ years ago. I was even okay with no Shang (but it makes no sense when there is an obvious, if unfulfilled, love interest in this version as well).

Much as I love Mushu, I was still eager to see this movie because I’m a fan of Asian culture in general and was curious to see how this movie would play out. Imagine my surprise when I learned that this version would consist of a phoenix and a witch.

How is that any different than a dragon? Is it because dragons are kind of sacred to the Chinese? A phoenix is similar - it’s a bird that is reborn from fire. And a witch? I highly doubt that actually happened in the original story. Did it? I don’t know, but my point remains.

Unlike the cartoon, Mulan in this adaptation knows quite a bit about combat already. We can see her as a child using her skills quite often, and her father tells her to contain her (strong) chi. Speaking of chi, it’s mentioned quite a lot in this movie. Apparently what makes Mulan such a strong/good fighter and leader is her strong chi. Chi is mentioned so much all I could think of was this:

(Chobits anime)

Mulan doesn’t have her dog (Little Brother) in this movie, but she does have a little sister. Interestingly enough, the original story depicts her as having a younger brother, but he was too young to fight. So if Disney was going for accuracy, they still could have gone that route and stayed true to the source material.

As with the cartoon, Mulan does meet the matchmaker, but she doesn’t go in alone. She goes in with her mother and sister, the latter of which is terrified of spiders. Instead of a lucky cricket causing a catastrophe during this “audition,” a spider decides to scurry in and scare the younger sister, prompting the cacophony. So really, it’s the sister’s fault Mulan brings dishonor in the matchmaker’s eyes.

Mulan’s father is frequently chastised by her mother for encouraging her boy-like behavior. “She is your daughter, not your son.” Rude. But remember, this is a different era. The only way a female could bring honor to her family was to be a good wife and bear sons. Still, harsh.

So we all know what happens next. One man from every family has to join in a fight against some turd determined to take over the empire, in this case one who is using a witch to help him, and Mulan takes her father’s place since she fears for his life. But she has good reason to - the poor guy needs help walking and even her mother said he won’t return from battle this time. Way to sugar-coat it, lady.

So we get to the men’s camp... no wait, first, we get lost and a phoenix (symbolic, since it appears no one else is able to see it at all) shows up to guide Mulan to where she needs to go. Yes, instead of asking the ancestors for help, her father asked the family guardian (phoenix) to watch over her. Okay.

Eventually we get to a large tent shared by all the soldiers. Yes, this time, they don’t all get their own individual tent. And of course, all the men are running around half dressed, throwing things at each other, rough-housing, you know the drill. It’s especially amusing when one of them loses his towel and Mulan immediately closes her eyes and cringes.

Then the commander asks for a night guard volunteer. Mulan proceeds to volunteer for this every night to avoid having to shower with the men. Too bad they all start to notice the smell. Funny, in the cartoon, Mulan absolutely did not want to smell like a man at all. It takes her quite some time before she’s able to sneak into the river to bathe. Too bad one of the guys decides to follow her in and she has to hide herself. :D

During training, rules and penalties are revealed, and the penalty for pretty much doing anything wrong is death. Except one thing - dishonesty. Dishonesty brings expulsion from the army as well as dishonor to the family. Don’t talk to a woman or you’ll die, but pour out some water to make the buckets lighter during a strength exercise and get humiliated.

So we eventually get to a big battle scene with all the flying arrows, and Mulan, of course, winds up by herself fighting the witch. The witch can obviously tell that Mulan is hiding her true self, so she’s all, “You’re going to die pretending to be something you’re not.” Then something pierces the wrap Mulan uses to hide her chest and she decides the best course of action is to go back to her comrades as her female self. The whole “big reveal” scene is her taking her hair down (which she does not cut with a sword by the way - in fact, she doesn’t cut it at all) and walking out of the fog and introducing herself. To me, that was very anti-climactic.

The cherry on top of that is when, after being expelled from the army for dishonesty (weird though, another rule was to not consort with women at all and yet she actually IS a woman and isn’t killed), she returns to the camp and the men immediately accept her for who she is because she’s all, “The emperor is in danger and I know how to save him.”

So the commander allows her to lead a group of men into the Imperial City to save the emperor, who is quite a warrior himself - he breaks out his armor to fight the Hun (not Shan-Yu, I don’t even remember what his name is this time), then Mulan shows up and of course she and the witch team up because, hey, why not? They’re both misunderstood women always being told to stay in their place, except the witch is controlled by the Hun and Mulan is free.

The witch can transform into a hawk or something like that (probably a shout out to Shan-Yu’s pet from the cartoon) and she actually flies in front of Mulan to save her from getting pierced by an arrow. So of course she dies in our protagonist’s arms and is all, “Take your place.” And of course, as expected, Mulan saves the day. And let me just say, how many times can one possibly kick an arrow and send it flying straight toward a designated target? It happens at least five times in this movie, and just once is a one in a million shot. Yeah, cool effect, but totally not accurate, Disney. I thought that was the whole point of this movie - more accuracy to the source content. And you also wanted to appease China. Too bad it didn’t work this time around, either.

The movie ends with Mulan being offered a position on the emperor’s army (nice cameo by Ming-Na Wen, the original voice of Mulan from the cartoon!), but she chooses to go back home - where her sister has been matched to someone who isn’t afraid of spiders.

Yay! Then Mulan’s commander and some other guys show up and offer her the same job the emperor did, only in front of her entire village, so everyone knows she has now brought honor to her family and the country, prompting the matchmaker to faint because she was proven wrong.

So then she does take the job after all, and that’s pretty much the end. Shang isn’t in the movie but there is one fellow soldier she seems to have fun with in practice combat, and he’s super eager to accept her as a woman, even saying she’s the best soldier they’ve got. But nothing comes of that - the two part ways as friends, but honestly, I think it’s okay in these circumstances. Throwing a love story into this rendition just wouldn’t work.

So all in all, not a bad movie, but I think I probably should have waited until it was available on regular Disney+ or DVD instead of spending $30 on premiere access. But I would have spent that going to the theater anyway, so I guess it’s not so bad. I do know a lot of people absolutely hated this movie and it’s gotten bad reviews. I didn’t mind it, but I think my favorite live-action Disney movie so far is Aladdin. This one is probably in second place, though. I think the reason people dislike it so much is that there are so many things missing that were in the cartoon. But again, this is not meant to be a remake of the cartoon - it’s meant to be a more accurate version. But you just can’t make everyone happy.

Overall, I’d give the movie a 7/10. It could have been better, could have been worse. I still prefer the cartoon but it was interesting to see this version as well. Now to see what other live action movies get made... and we’ll see if The Little Mermaid can beat this with a black Ariel. I think I should audition for the role of Snow White - I have the short hair, pale skin, and am always talking to animals. If Ariel can be black, Snow White can be fat!

#xoxardnekoxo #Movie Review #Mulan #Mulan 2020 #Mushu #Shang #Li Shang #Crikee #Disney #spoiler alert #Disney princess

[loyalflutist]

Knight in Shining Armor (F!Byleth x Dorothea)

Challenge: Bylethea Week 2019 (Twitter) Day 6: After the War

A/N: This is actually a direct continuation of Day 5′s OS, so feel free to refer to that! Otherwise, it could still act as a standalone in a way.

------

Would this be the last time she would see her wife? That sort of question never crossed through Byleth’s mind. No matter how many times she was sent out under Edelgard’s orders, she would always return home.

She was unstoppable. Despite her weakened health, despite the frail heart, despite the abnormal gait, Byleth lived up to her nickname as the Ashen Demon. The woman easily crushed their spirits by mere existence. Terror ran through their spine, her enemies frantically cutting her down. Their actions were elementary. Byleth simply had to sidestep a few times and swing the Sword of Creator with a flick of her wrist. Victory was always one-sided for the Adrestian Empire against Those Who Slither in the Dark.

But what about this time?

A shaky exhale slithered out of her bleeding lips, her head hung, and wrists bound from behind the chair. Droplets of cool water dribbled in the background as the bruised warrior slowly breathed. Goosebumps formed on her exposed skin after having shed the tattered, large overcoat, the piece of attire crumbled in the far corner. Byleth shuddered from the chilly damp atmosphere.

‘ I messed up big time, didn’t I. ‘

Was 29 years of age starting to catch up to her? Impossible, as her deceased father, Jeralt, was far older than that and was in tip-top shape. Could it be from arrogance? Byleth relished in the pride of becoming a hero for the Adrestian Empire and for striking fear in the hearts of her enemies as the Ashen Demon. Whatever it was, she couldn’t fix her mistake. She was stuck in this underground cellar with no natural light peeking in, only the faint, neon blue, technological lights inscribed into the solid walls.

It was a trap she should have seen from a mile away. She, Edelgard, and Ferdinand raced to tackle the main headquarter of Those Who Slither in the Dark. Other members of the Black Eagles Strike Squad were to act as a diversion to the terrorist organization. Soldiers and commanders engaged in a violent skirmish as the three headed into the depths of Shambhala and descended into the secret tunnel.

Edelgard led the two volunteers deep into the dark terrain. Man-made lights eventually filled their vision and dispersed the black surroundings. They were greeted with the city standing without light. Yet it was too late for the trio as the emperor stepped on a thin, silver wire. Boobytraps were rare in this time era. Technological advancements procured simple ones, but not ones that were as futuristic as the ones Those Who Slither in the Dark had.

She hurriedly grabbed the back of their attires and summoned all her strength to chuck them backward. The impressive feat caused the nobles to fly away from their professor. A loud slam echoed throughout the suffocating chamber, a metal barred box trapping its prey. And the moment they landed on their behinds, Byleth was surrounded by hidden assassins and soldiers, their lances, daggers, and swords aimed at the encased female. Edelgard and Ferdinand were spared the misfortune of being captured by the cursed group thanks to Byleth.

Or rather, this was Those Who Slither in the Dark’s intention.

‘ At least they ran away. I don’t know what would’ve happened if they were captured too… ‘

The tales Edelgard and Hubert spoke of about the dreadful organization were full of truths. What made matters worse was the fact that they hadn’t spoken about the horrifying details that encompassed Those Who Slither in the Dark.

“You still awake?” Their dark, lanky boots stopped in front of her. Byleth’s eyes trailed upward to the captor’s face. The sight of the cruel male made her blood run cold. It was none other than Thales, the leader of Those Who Slither in the Dark. A faint smirk ran across his lips as he remarked, “You just don’t know when to give up, do you, Byleth?”

“…”

She glared at him. Seeing as how she will not answer to his rhetorical question, Thales came closer to the wounded female. Standing above the limped ex-mercenary, he added,

“Your body houses the same power that we’ve bestowed to Nemesis. I think it is time we resurrect him.”

“In your dreams,” she spat on his shoes. Never losing that fiery gaze, the teal-haired harshly whispered, “I don’t have the power of the progenitor god anymore. You’re too late.”

“Yet you are still connected to Sothis. Am I wrong?”

“…”

Another silent treatment. This time, it was not well-received, Thales sinking his fist into her abdomen. Byleth’s navy eyes widened, her mouth wide open from the sudden strike. He kept his hand buried into her abdomen and bent down just enough to speak into her eardrum.

“I suggest you tell us the truth, Byleth. You will suffer if you do not.”

“Nngh…”

Despite having the wind knocked out of her system, Byleth remained steadfast on keeping her mouth shut. The torture she endured from him earlier was nothing… sort of. His methods of roughing her up were more extreme compared to the times when she was a mercenary. However, if she was able to survive two of his sessions in the past two days, she could bear through another. Another sharp gasp left her throat when Thales twisted his wrist, burrowing the fist further in. The immense pressure squeezed uncomfortably upon her intestines.

“Think carefully, Byleth. I wouldn’t want to get answers from you the same way as I did to Dorothea.”

“!!!”

This was a first! Fury colored her vision red as she snapped open her jaw. She instantly lurched forward to bite his ear. Tear that pale cartilage off and make him suffer, even if it’s for a little bit. It was unfortunate that he pulled away just in time. His hand was gone, but it instantly came back to her, this time to the face. He socked her squarely on the nose. It was shocking that the fragile body part hadn’t been crushed or fractured from the powerful blow.

An outcry was heard from her and the weight of her body caused the steel chair to fall sideways. She winced when her head collided against the smooth flooring. Stars danced in her vision as the neon lights blinded half of her sight. Byleth groaned from the burst of needle-like pains frenzied her face and skull. She nearly blacked out… but wouldn’t allow herself to do so. Instead, Byleth forced herself to shoot a glare at the leader.

Thales felt humored. He took one step and pressed his foot against her side. The weight of his boot caused her ribs to creak, Byleth biting her tongue to remain silent.

“Don’t act so surprised, Byleth. Those Who Slither in the Dark know everything and everyone in Fodlan… especially you.”

Tears pricked from the corner of her eyes as the old male began his dialogues.

“Dorothea Arnault… She was a precious… hostage. No… Hostage is not the right word. She was vital to finding you. At least, that’s what we originally thought.”

Byleth gasped when he stomped on her bruised side, his features contorted.

“That cursed songstress had nothing to tell us! Even after we’ve tortured her, she wouldn’t tell her where you are. Had it not been for Edelgard von Hresvelg either, we would’ve killed her off long ago.”

“…”

Just… why didn’t Dorothea tell her this? Weren’t they wives now? Byleth grimaced. Ever since she came back from her coma, she immediately leapt back into the fray. The Black Eagles Strike Squad and the Adrestian Empire were so preoccupied with the three-way war… When the instructor had tea sessions with the opera singer, she would never touch upon events that occurred during the five years Byleth disappeared. Thinking back upon it… Byleth never really tried to delve into her wife’s traumatic history. Even when they got together, Dorothea strongly urged that they make new memories in place of old ones.

‘ It’s no wonder why Dorothea argued with me… ‘

It wasn’t just weak health or missing her wife in the end. Dorothea feared that the same fate she experienced would befall upon the very person she loved. Too bad Byleth didn’t listen to her… and it was horrible that Byleth never took the time out of her day to really sit down and relieve Dorothea of the nightmares and depression that plagued the poor woman.

“…I have something to say to you… Thales…”

Thales’s attention reverted to the warrior. A shadow overcame his white eyes as Byleth snarled, “You’re going to regret touching my wife.”

“Wife? How amusing.” He slammed his foot once more. “All the more reason to move forward with our plans.”

“I’m going to kill you..!” She gritted her teeth and barked, “You’ll wish you’ve never captured me here!”

Anger was a foreign concept to the retired professor. She may be irritated and annoyed, but never scathing in pure fury. Byleth squirmed under his iron foothold. Thales squinted his eyes. Then, he laughed. She was just like a bug! The way she squirmed and growled at him… she was more pathetic than a bug, actually! He couldn’t hurt her anymore. In fact, he didn’t want to, the sight of the struggling warrior far too entertaining.

Thales took a couple of steps back. “Perhaps keeping you here for another day isn’t going to hurt our resources. Besides…” He snapped his fingers. One of the two followers for the organization stepped forward from the cell. “I would like to find Dorothea again. This might make you talk.”

“YOU…” Byleth hollered, watching in horror as the listener took a step away from the premise, “DON’T YOU DARE LAY A FINGER ON HER!”

“Not unless you tell us what we need to know,” Thales warned.

“…”

“Smile, Byleth. You have a choice here. I’m not all that generous. I’ve never given anyone any options… not even to Edelgard and Dorothea.”

“You monster!”

“Only if you make me one.”

Byleth audibly snarled at their leader as a dog. She viciously tugged against the bondage and desperately wiggled out of her ensnarement. Thales never was a man to play around. His words were absolute. Those Who Slither in the Dark would always accomplish their goals. Their passion and determination were frightening. The teal-haired slowly lost her strength to fight for freedom and pummel him into submission. Byleth laid still, her chest rapidly rising and falling, her hues darkened while watching the sadistic man.

Was it really going to end this way? In the end, she was never going to come home, was she? If she did… would it cost Dorothea’s life?

Byleth squeezed her eyes shut.

‘ I’m… I’m so sorry, Dorothea… ‘

“ARGH!”

The remaining guard in this room bellowed from the top of his lungs. Byleth’s and Thale’s attention swerved to the man. He was on fire, the flames searing through his exposed epidermis, the black cloths and chainmail melting into his sensitive skin. Screams and wails filled the cramped room as he dashed out of the room. Thales could hardly cast a spell of his own when electricity crackled through his sturdy figure. Yet what would have downed most ordinary man or woman did not apply to the leader.

“You…!”

At that moment, Byleth stared at the person, who wielded the Sword of Creator, standing before the greatest enemy in Fodlan.

“Dorothea…?”

How did she manage— But… why?

Standing behind Dorothea was none other than Edelgard and Hubert. They both quickly parted way towards Byleth as Thales’s gaze focused on only one person: Dorothea. A bead of sweat slid down his face as he forced a chuckle.

“What a surprise to see you again, Dorothea. Did you come here to die?”

“Not today,” the songstress pointed the relic in his direction. Although one should not use these ancient weapons, ever since the disappearances of the Crests and its system dissolvement, these artifacts were nothing more than ordinary weapons adorned in mystical materials. (Excluding Byleth, who still possess some inherited level of the Crest of Flames thanks to Sothis’s permanent connection.) Dorothea frowned. “I’ve come to take back my professor and defeat you.”

“Defeat me? You?” He almost buckled from laughter. “You’re nothing compared to the strength I have.”

When she charged forward with the Sword of Creator, Thales grinned. It was reckless of her. Did she not learn this from the Officers Academy of rushing headfirst without a plan? Dark energy enveloped his dominant hand as he reeled it back. He didn’t bother to use up all his energy in delivering a punishing blow. A direct hit to her stomach. Dorothea felt a spray of pain seep into her surrounding muscles as spit flew out of her mouth. At that same moment, the sword slipped out of her grasp and flew upward into the air. The songstress flew in the opposite direction and slammed into the thick wall.

Dorothea managed to crack an eye open as Thales came close.

“See? You were never a challenge, to begin with.”

She coughed and stared up at the intimidating man. Then, she slyly smiled.

“You… You may be right, but… I have my wife!”

“What—?!”

Thales had an issue with hyper fixation. When Edelgard and Hubert slipped past his figure, he was so focused on Dorothea, his mind automatically ignored them. It was a devastating biological mistake to make. And he cursed them.

Turning around caused the Sword of Creator, bright in its glory, to puncture into his chest. Blood flowed into his mouth and trickled out as the tip protruded out of his back. Byleth had slammed the blade so hard, the hilt smashed right into his chest cavity. Thales could only gasp for breath. His hands violently shook, the pair grabbing ahold of Byleth’s back. His fingertips tried to claw at her in a futile attempt to get back. What he didn’t notice was how weak his attempts were.

Byleth tore the weapon out of his tainted body. Then, she twirled the sword and gave a diagonal slash in his direction. Blood spurted from his newly-formed gash, its crimson substance splattered onto her weakened figure. His death was immediate after the final blow. When he crumbled to the ground, the injured professor glanced at Dorothea.

“Dorothea…”

Dorothea had gotten up from the floor, brushing the debris that soiled her vermillion robe. The punch that the songstress had sustained was minimized thanks to the thick armor plate hidden underneath the attire. (It was a good thing she had listened to Byleth long ago about it.) Linhardt, who was supposed to be retired in a remote village, was present and had cast white magic on Dorothea’s injuries in addition. This made her healthy as a horse, ready to get into another fight if needed.

“…”

Byleth felt like the invisible weight amplified its pressure on her shoulders. The ex-mercenary’s knees buckled, the sensation overwhelming her balance. Her vision began to fade in and out, the whole world begins to tilt sideways.

“Byleth!”

Dorothea rushed in to catch her slumped lover. Byleth barely held onto her consciousness as she murmured,

“You came…”

“Of course I did,” her wife responded.

It was a good thing Dorothea listened to her gut feelings. Since the night she tossed and turned, Linhardt stopped by that same night, providing a message that they should hurry to Shambhala. He predicted that their presence is needed now more than ever for Byleth. How did he know? Linhardt prefers to call it an educated guess... or it was just another fancy way of saying that he had a horrible nagging feeling like Dorothea. Regardless, they hurried as fast as they could to the destination from afar. Bumping into Edelgard, Ferdinand, and Hubert was by chance. That led them to crawl into the underground city and demolish the dreadful organization.

She shifted her position so she could cup one side of Byleth’s swollen face. Scabs from old cuts and broken skin riddled parts of her sturdy features. Dorothea dryly swallowed, knowing that her face would be scarred. She had once been captured by Those Who Slither in the Dark. They hadn't tortured her as Thales bluffed it to be, but it wasn't a pleasant experience either, Edelgard luckily coming to her rescue. The fact that they did a number on Byleth... Dorothea felt her blood pressure rise.

“Oh, why did he do this to you…?”

“Probably… bored out of his mind…”

“This is no joking matter!”

Then again, if she was able to joke around, that probably meant Byleth isn’t in danger of dying. She hadn’t lost much blood either, save it for the beating she’s experienced these past three days. The songstress had to resist the temptation to shake her wife silly when the teacher added,

“Looks like my… my knight… in shining armor… came to save me.” Byleth faint smiled. “Thank you…”

From that day onward, Those Who Slither in the Dark were no more, the remaining members arrested and executed for their criminal activities. Byleth was finally able to retire from her duty as a tactician and a key figure to dismantling the corrupted group. Not that she had a choice as her weakened health began to deteriorate even more after the events with Thales. Going into battle was still possible, but it was more out of self-defense and last resort. It pained the professor to use a cane for the rest of her life... but at least she was alive and by her wife's side. Now, she was stuck with the duty of handling simple responsibilities such as watching over the house and hosting her famous tea sessions with alumni.

Tranquility befalls them. At long last, they were finally able to live their lives in peace. Yet what if danger arises again?

"It's my turn to be your knight and protector, Byleth," Dorothea boldly proclaimed as they snuggled in the comfort of their homes. The two spouses laid on the bed, the songstress resting her head on top of her wife's chest. Their fingers were intertwined as she continued, "I'll always come to your rescue... just as how you did with me."

#loyalflutist #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #f!byleth x dorothea #f!byleth #byleth #byleth eisner #dorothea #dorothea arnault #dorothea x byleth #fan fiction #fan fic #fanfic #fanfiction #one shot #oneshot #os #byletheaweek2019 #day 6: after the war

[istheresomebodywhocanimagine]

Tomorrow Never Came PT. 3

You have one job - time travel decades into the past and save your mother from a horrible future. You can’t fail or you’ll have to start over again completely, and you have to act on your own. But your roommates/friends have quickly taken you under their wing, and you begin to wonder just what the stipulations of ‘alone’ mean, and what danger lies in wait for you now that you’ve involved yourself in their lives.

Read PT. 1 here

Read PT. 2 here

(a/n: wow another small fluff piece?? lots of platonic friends bullying friends moments in this. small ‘holy shit roger is hot’ moments. roger is getting more interested hehe. next part will be fun if i write it the way i have it planned)

“Oh, Ms. Waitress, may I have some more coffee?”

You straightened up from where you were cleaning off the booth directly back to back with Roger’s, and he was looking over his shoulder at you, grinning ear to ear as he waited patiently for you to comply. Sighing, you went and retrieved the coffee pot, coming back over to where he was seated before refilling his empty mug. He watched you, a pleased expression on his face as he said nothing, just enjoying the fact that you were waiting on him. When you were done, you mussed his hair with your free hand and returned the coffee pot to its original spot on the burner as he whined.

“Watch the hair!” he complained as you went back to bussing the table behind him. The early morning light coming in through the windows made him look almost ethereal as he leaned over, checking his reflection in the window and fixing his hair. Trying not to stare, you dropped your gaze to the table, wiping up the last spot of dried coffee.

You were one month in, and adjusting to 70’s life came a lot easier than it seemed on paper. You remembered reading about the era and mildly panicking before you’d came here. Problems with unions, the IRA, and inflation plagued the earlier years – since you’d been here, unemployment had hit its high since WWII.

But you still managed to find a job at a café down the street, one that Freddie and Roger enjoyed quite a bit, so they were always coming in to see you at work, Roger more often than Freddie. He claimed it was because of the food, but you had an inkling that he had something to do with the way he stared at you while you waited tables. This morning was no exception. It was simultaneously exciting, yet terrifying – Roger’s interest in you could easily spell trouble once next March came around, if not sooner.

Despite Roger coming around more, you had actually become sort of a pet of Freddie’s, and you considered him your closest friend. He was always bringing in new salvaged clothing for you to wear, changing your style constantly, bringing you along to the market stall, and testing the limits on what could be considered fashion and what could be considered downright appalling. You were like his living, breathing mannequin. Mary would have been, except she worked at Biba Kensington and had to dress appropriately for her job – at least, that’s what she said.

You didn’t mind, though. Freddie’s insistence on commandeering your fashion sense made it far easier for you to blend in during the 70’s. Roger also quite enjoyed Freddie’s test drives with your fashion – he actually pitched in quite a bit, suggesting pieces and combinations that Freddie might not have thought of. Freddie operated purely on aesthetic appeal at most times, while Roger paid closer attention to textures and cuts of material. They worked as quite a team, despite how much they argued over literally anything – not unlike the same afternoon, once you’d got off the morning shift and headed over to help them with the stall.

“Fred, listen to me!” Roger yelled, probably pissing off your stall neighbors for the twentieth time that day as he held up a corduroy skirt next to black, crushed velvet trousers. He was testy today, and so was Freddie, as they were both eager to get the hell out of the stall and go out tonight. This was actually what started the argument – Freddie wanted you to wear velvet trousers, while Roger insisted on a burnt orange corduroy skirt. You were perfectly fine just wearing the outfit you had on, but it wasn’t good enough (even though Freddie had been the one to pick it out in the first place).

“I refuse to listen to your stupid spiel one more time, Rog, you are wrong!” Freddie fired back, snatching the velvet trousers and practically shoving them into your arms. “Y/N, if you’ve got any sense, you’ll wear these tonight. Mary would love them.”

“Mary would love what?” Brian appeared from around the corner, ducking his head as he made his way through the cramped room they called their stall. “Those trousers look nice. Is Mary wearing those tonight?”

“No, Y/N is,” Freddie quickly said, making you hold them as you turned to face Brian. You’d only met Brian a few weeks ago, so you were both relatively new to each other and didn’t operate on the same level yet. Roger reveled in this, mainly because he loved teasing Brian almost more than he loved drumming, and Brian continued to be awkwardly reserved around you as he tried to figure out where you were coming from.

“No, she is not!” Roger shouted, snatching the trousers from your grasp and replacing them with the skirt before stepping between you and Freddie.

Brian raised an eyebrow at you while cocking his head to the side, but you could only shrug in response. You watched Freddie try to take the trousers out of his hand, and Roger quickly jumped out of his reach, backing straight into you and nearly knocking you over before you caught yourself on the wall next to you, giving Roger a questioning look as he smiles sheepishly. “Real smooth, Roger,” Brian taunts, and Freddie laughs in contempt as he crosses his arm.

“I’m sorry, are you okay?” Roger asked quietly, turning so that the boys couldn’t see the horribly guilty look on his face. His usually soft, unblemished features were riddled with worry lines as he looked you up and down quickly, making sure you hadn’t hurt yourself. When you nodded, a wave of relief crashed over his face and he nodded while giving you a reassured smile. Then, it was gone as fast as it had appeared, and Roger turned again, barging past both Freddie and Brian as he approached a woman who was in the front of the stall, eyeing some of the clothes there. You were baffled, the small moment of sincerity from him throwing you wildly off track as Freddie tried to figure out what Roger’s game plan was here.

“What is he up to?” Brian wondered, mainly to himself, and you walked up to stand at Brian’s side so you could peer around the racks of clothing at Roger. He was posed casually next to the woman, smiling charmingly and showering her with praises that were making her genuinely red in the face. A small twinge of jealousy picked at the back of your brain steadily, but you tried to ignore how quickly Roger had flipped the switch. He was just a roommate. Remember why you’re here.

“Fred, can we get some change for this lovely lady? She’s buying our beautiful velvet trousers.” Roger was practically oozing with smugness as he turned to all of you, and there was an air of self-satisfaction as he strolled back to the money bag, getting the change himself. Freddie was too busy steaming at the ears, standing rigid in his place near you as Roger returned to the front and gave her the proper amount of change, sending her off with a toothy grin and a playful wave. As soon as she was out of sight, he dropped the act and turned back to you all, shrugging. “They weren’t her size at all, but who’s problem is that now?”

“Roger, you-“ Freddie cut off, clenching his fists as he struggled to verbalize the amount of annoyance he was feeling at this very moment. He dearly loved Roger, but right about now, it was taking everything in him not to rip him to shreds. “You absolute bitch! I never-“

“Hey, hey, hey,” Roger cut him off, holding up his finger as he put the empty hanger in a box under their small table. He then walked around the table, coming straight over to you and carefully linking his arm through yours. “If you can’t say anything nice, say it about Brian.”

The irritated look that quickly made its way onto Brian’s face made you laugh, and you whispered a quick, “Sorry!” as Roger started dragging you off, tossing the keys to the stall on the table with his free hand.

“Close up, will you, Fred?”

He didn’t hear an answer, or rather, didn’t wait for one as he led you along the crowded hallway of the market, headed directly for the stairs. You tagged along as fast as you could, clutching the corduroy skirt to your chest and trying to figure out how you’d apologize to Freddie/plan revenge later. When you both got out onto the street, greeted by a mild, temperate April evening, Roger hailed a cab for the two of you and let you climb in first, following suit before giving the driver your address.

“Fred’s going to be livid,” you pointed out once the driver had left the curb, but all you got was a satisfied smirk in response. Rolling your eyes playfully, you tossed the skirt down on the seat between you. “What am I supposed to wear that with anyways, Rog?”

“I’ve got a few ideas.” He picked up the skirt, giving it a full look-over before glancing over at you. “Might need to raid Freddie’s closet for it, though.”

“I think we’ve already done enough to poor old Freddie today.”

Roger was amused, the corner of his petite lips curling up into a smirk as he raised an eyebrow at you. “Poor old Freddie? How come you’re never the slightest bit concerned about overdoing it when you two are railing on me?” It was a good point, and you shrugged slightly before giving him an apologetic smile. “But I suppose you’re right anyways. We can take a look in my closet and see if there’s anything that catches your eye.”

The only thing that was catching your eye in Roger’s closet 30 minutes later was Roger himself. He was far more invested in making sure your outfit was perfect than you are, and this focus gave you the perfect opportunity to ogle at him, only part of you ashamed for being so enamored by him.

He was flitting through his clothes quickly, holding the sleeves of certain shirts up next to the skirt, taking them out, comparing them, and then moving on as you watched him. His long, wavy hair was sticking up in odd places from all of the rummaging and deep digging he was doing, and his shirt had become untucked as the time went on, riding up and exposing more of his slim, fair-skinned torso as he reached for things and stood on his tiptoes to grab things off the shelf.

You were conflicted. While you knew you were here for a purpose, you couldn’t help but wonder why you had a whole year to prepare for one night. Also, how had your uncle passed this time with Freddie and Roger? Considering your uncle’s personality in relation to them, you found it hard to believe that he’d been best friends with them, so you figured he was definitely an absent roommate. Going along with that, considering that he wasn’t a young girl who was trying to keep her hormones in check around an equally virile young man who exuded charm, it was probably a lot easier for him to be absent too.

As much as you didn’t want to be around these two all the time out of fear for their safety, it was hard – Freddie was a wonderful, caring friend who absolutely adored you as much as (if not more than) your friends back in the present day. And Roger? Roger was charming, intelligent, and well-spoken, a real triple threat to your heart and mind. This wasn’t an obstacle you’d expected to have when trying to save your mom, but it wasn’t necessarily an unwelcome one either. The real obstacle was going to be leaving when it was time to leave. How could you leave these two?

“I’ve got it!” Roger exclaimed, pulling your attention out of your thoughts and into the present again. Turning to you, he held out the skirt and a silky blazer of his that was a snake skin pattern, orange-ish in hue. Although 2018 you was definitely not a big snake skin person, it was honestly quite a look. You stood up and took the ensemble from him, frowning when you realized a big part was missing.

“I need an undershirt,” you pointed out, and Roger immediately clicked his tongue as he shook his head.

“No, no. Just go change into that and I’ll show you what I have in mind.”

You stared at him. “Roger-“ you started, but he was already ushering you towards the bathroom, ignoring any protest that you had as he shut the door for you, his footsteps going away from the door and leaving you to your business. Sighing, you unbuttoned the trousers you had on, shimmying out of them and tossing them to the side before sliding into the skirt. It was a bit snug, hugging every curve you had from your thighs up to your waist, but it buttoned up as it should, so you continued on.

After your shirt was off, you stared at the blazer, then looked down at your black bra. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it certainly wasn’t ‘show it off in the club’ material, so you were baffled as to what Roger planned on doing about that. Pulling the blazer on, you wrapped the small jacket around you and hugged yourself, walking out of the door and almost running straight into Freddie, who had returned in a huff while you were changing.

“Oh!” Freddie was surprised by your sudden appearance, and he took a moment to look your outfit up and down before cursing. “God damn it. Roger was right, the skirt was the right choice. I hate that.”

“What did I just hear?” Roger called out, emerging from his room as Freddie gave him a nasty look, storming off to his room to get ready for the night. Taking one long look at you, Roger smiled smugly at his handiwork, then waved you back into his room. You reluctantly followed, leaving the door open behind you since it was just the three of you and you didn’t mind Freddie peeking in on whatever the hell Roger was about to do.

He pulled you over to the mirror, stationing you in front of it before standing behind you, looking you up and down in the mirror. “What’s your plan, Project Runway?”

“What?” Roger asked, furrowing his eyebrows at your reference. You nearly smacked a hand to your forehead when you realized your slip up, and you quickly shook your head as you tried to recover from accidentally referencing a show from a decade that hadn’t actually happened yet.

“It’s like you’re making me a runway project,” you lied lamely, but he seemed to buy it as he chuckled, letting go of your arms and walking over to his bed, picking up a black, lacy bra that looked like it had come out of your drawer. In fact, it had. “Roger, you son of a-“

“Are we bullying Roger in here?” you heard someone asked, and you were surprised to see Brian peeking in through the doorway. He couldn’t help but curiously glance between the two of you, Roger clearly standing there with your bra in hand while you hugged a blazer to your chest, trying and failing to cover up the lack of a cover-up underneath it. “Am I interrupting?”

“Not really, Roger’s just went through all my knickers,” you grumbled, snatching the bra from him and pushing him out of his own room before reluctantly changing into the ensemble. It was cute, but you also felt a bit like a cheap whore as you buttoned up the blazer in the mirror. Even that action still left little to the imagination, hardly covering up tits at all. But that was probably Roger’s point, anyways.

You emerged out into the main apartment where all three of them were milling about, waiting for you. When Freddie saw you, he clapped in pure delight. “I hate to admit when Roger is right, but tonight you might be the only one sexier than me in the club,” he practically gushed, lifting himself up off the couch and coming over to hand you a pair of heels you’d bought on the first day here and never worn.

“I’m a genius, it’s okay to admit it, guys,” Roger complained, eating a pretzel from a bag that he’d just opened as he leaned over the counter, all-too-smug in the way he looked at you.

“Who said that?” Freddie asked, playing innocent, and you laughed as you pulled the heels on, not even bothering to try and win Roger’s favor for laughing at that one. He’d been enough of a pain tonight as it was, so you didn’t mind giving him some hell with Freddie, and Brian was a great addition if that was the purpose of tonight. “I don’t think anyone here accused you of something that drastic.”

“I’m so unappreciated in this household.” Roger pouted melodramatically, stomping off to his bedroom as the three of you watched, unmoved by his theatrics.

“Oh, crazy old Roger – you can’t live with him, you can’t live without him,” Brian remarked as the door slammed, looking down the hallway in that general direction. You made your way into the kitchen, scooting around him as you went to grab the bag of pretzels and tossing a few in your mouth as Brian went back on what he said. “Wait, let me rephrase that – you can’t live with him. Pass the pretzels.”

PT. 1 PT. 2

taglist -  @crosmopolitan @just-ladyme @rogerfxckingtaylor @fourmisfitz @shae-is-not-ok @moreinfinite @fruityfreddie @poachedhazontoast @strawberryfields-forever @imladrs @psychoticobsession @ladylannisterxo @rebelrebelyourefaceisamess @destiel-stucky4ever-loki-queen @wanderingsami @stardvstial @iminlovewith-rogers-car @glowungeyes

message me/reply to this to be added to the permanent taglist!

#roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor imagine #queen imagine #freddie mercury #brian may #time travel #hehe

[theliberaltony]

via Politics – FiveThirtyEight

With Joe Biden on the debate stage Wednesday night, the other Democratic primary candidates will have another chance to criticize elements of his long political record. But Biden’s presence — and his wholehearted embrace of his time as second-in-command during the “Obama-Biden administration” — also creates an opportunity for his rivals to take on President Obama’s legacy, particularly on policies like immigration.

We’ve already seen a preview of what this might look like. In the first debate, Kamala Harris criticized a deportation program that operated for much of Obama’s presidency and required cooperation from local and state law enforcement, saying it allowed for the deportation of non-criminals. And more recently, Julián Castro said it is “inevitable” that Biden will have to respond to the record-breaking number of deportations that occurred on Obama’s watch. By some measures, Obama did deport more people than any other president in modern history, something for which many immigration rights advocates still criticize him. He also detained families until the courts made him stop, although his administration didn’t have a policy of family separation, as President Trump has claimed.

Disavowing Obama’s stance on immigration is complicated for Democrats, though — and not just because the former president remains wildly popular among the party. He also issued Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals, the executive order that protected young undocumented immigrants from deportation, at the end of his first term. Plus, by the end of his second term, his deportation numbers had fallen significantly, and his policies were closer to what some of the 2020 candidates are now proposing. And, of course, because Trump has adopted a harsher strategy on immigration enforcement, it has been less pressing for primary candidates to argue against Obama-era policies. But this doesn’t mean Obama’s immigration record won’t loom large over the primary. In fact, the extent to which candidates embrace Obama-era immigration policies could emerge as an important dividing line.

Obama was very tough on immigration at the beginning of his presidency

During the first few years of his presidency, Obama earned the nickname “deporter in chief” due to the high numbers of undocumented immigrants deported during his first term. This marked a sharp contrast with the comprehensive immigration reform he had promised on the campaign trail. And over the course of Obama’s time in office, more than 3 million unauthorized immigrants were removed from the country, compared to about 2 million immigrants under President George W. Bush and less than a million under President Bill Clinton.

But there is some debate about how record-setting Obama’s numbers actually are, because of a trend in the type of deportations that were prioritized. A majority of the deportations that occurred during Obama’s presidency were “removals,” which involves a formal court order and legal consequences like ineligibility to reapply to enter the country for a certain period of time. In earlier administrations, though, the bulk of the deportations were “returns,” where immigrants were caught at the border and simply turned around. As you can see in the chart above, returns were much higher under Bush and Clinton than under Obama and accounted for a much larger proportion of total deportations. Obama’s deportation numbers would look less striking by comparison if returns and removals were counted together. That said, several immigration experts I spoke with said that removals are more reflective of a concerted immigration enforcement agenda, since the number of returns are tied more closely to trends at the border. So, the Obama administration still ejected a lot of people from the country in a way that made it more difficult for them to reenter.

Another way to gauge the relative severity of a president’s approach, according to Alex Nowrasteh, the director of immigration studies at the libertarian Cato Institute, is to ignore the border altogether and look at deportations from within the United States. “As far as we can tell, Obama deported more people from the interior of the U.S. than any other president in American history,” Nowrasteh said. “He inherited a system that was accelerating deportations and accelerated them even more.” And over the course of his administration, Obama removed about 1.2 million undocumented immigrants from the heart of the country.

The bulk of these removals were concentrated in Obama’s first term, when his administration rapidly expanded a program that created partnerships between local and state law enforcement and federal immigration authorities — the one Harris criticized during the first debate. Under the program, any immigrant taken into state or local custody would have his immigration status checked against a federal database. If he was unauthorized, the police would hold him for additional time so federal agents could come pick him up. “2011 and 2012 were high-water marks of immigration enforcement and a good chunk of that happened through our criminal justice system,” said Muzaffar Chishti, director of the Migration Policy Institute’s office at NYU School of Law. Critics argued that rather than targeting dangerous criminals for deportation, the program mostly identified low-level offenders or even people without criminal records, while scaring other undocumented immigrants out of reporting crimes.

Obama’s immigration policy shifted later in his presidency — but he was still criticized

But toward the end of Obama’s first term, his approach to immigration enforcement began to shift, although immigration advocates and experts are still divided about what this means for his legacy. In the summer of 2012, facing increasing political pressure from immigrant rights groups, he issued the DACA executive order, which shielded some young undocumented immigrants from deportation and allowed them to apply for work permits. And starting in 2011, his administration issued a series of memos that gradually narrowed the types of immigrants who were priorities for deportation, so that by the end of his second term, deportations from the interior of the country had fallen significantly.

Immigration policy experts like Chishti think Obama deserves credit for adjusting his policies as his presidency went on. According to estimates by Chishti’s group, by the end of Obama’s presidency, as many as 87 percent of unauthorized immigrants were not priorities for removal. “Interior removals fell hugely and he never got credit for that,” Chishti said. Experts also told me that Obama was trying to prove to Republicans in Congress that he was tough on immigration, in the hopes that they would work with him on comprehensive immigration reform. “When a legislative solution fell apart, he switched to a less punitive approach,” said Stephen Yale-Loehr, a professor of immigration law at Cornell Law School.

Others are less inclined to be generous to Obama. The partnership program with state and local police didn’t end until 2014, after a number of states and cities rebelled and tried to stop participating. (Trump has since restarted this program, although many cities and states are resisting as part of the “sanctuary city” movement.) And in response to a surge of unaccompanied migrant children and families who crossed the border in 2014, Obama ramped up family detention until the courts made him stop — although unlike Trump, he never had a formal policy of separating families. “That’s a big blemish on Obama’s record,” said Bill Ong Hing, a professor of law and migration studies at the University of San Francisco. “He didn’t really separate families but he definitely detained them.”

Many of the Democratic candidates have landed to the left of Obama

Trump’s approach to immigration, which is unquestionably more punitive than Obama’s, will likely continue to dominate the primary, with the candidates eager to draw a contrast with Trump. In fact, they have almost uniformly lined up behind some Obama-era immigration policies, like DACA. But other elements of Obama’s legacy could still emerge as contentious issues among Democrats.

One notable area of dispute emerged during the first debate, when Castro got into a tiff with Beto O’Rourke about whether crossing the border at places other than official ports of entry should be a crime. Castro has argued that illegal border crossing should be only a civil offense, while O’Rourke says applying a criminal violation is still necessary to hold smugglers and drug traffickers accountable. And in the aftermath of the debate, Obama’s former Secretary of Homeland Security, Jeh Johnson, argued that decriminalizing illegal border crossings would be a mistake. But in her comprehensive immigration plan released in mid-July, Elizabeth Warren also expressed her support for decriminalizing unauthorized border crossings.

Other candidates are promising broader immigration reforms — just like Obama did back in 2008. But unlike Obama, who initially expressed reluctance to rely on executive action, many are explicitly saying they won’t rely on legislation alone to get things done. Harris, for example, has said she’ll use executive action to shield undocumented immigrants from deportation. Booker’s plan also promises to crack down on poor conditions in immigration detention facilities, which was something Obama was criticized for. A number of candidates have even rejected elements of the Obama administration’s more focused immigration priorities, saying they would only focus on violent criminals and people who pose national security threats, according to a tally by The Washington Post.

At this point, it’s important to emphasize that these contrasts are subtle, and candidates are mostly focusing on how they’d differentiate themselves from Trump. The call to decriminalize border crossing, for example, is a response to Trump’s use of the law to separate families. And the focus on Trump makes a lot of sense, given that Obama’s policies did become less severe over time and many of his reforms have been reversed under the Trump administration. But in a race that’s so far been led by Biden, there’s certainly fodder for a rebuke of Obama’s immigration legacy — and it could be a way for candidates like Castro to distinguish themselves in a crowded primary, or perhaps try to push the Democratic Party in a new direction on immigration.

#IFTTT #Politics – FiveThirtyEight #politics #538 #Amelia Thomson-DeVeaux

[lilshoroscope]

Hogwarts AU Part 2!

Hiya my darlings! Tis me, your beloved writer, yet again.

I’m back with the second chapter of my Hogwarts AU!

I am so SHOCKED and GRATEFUL at all the support that the first chapter got! I had no idea that people would like it so much! I am truly honoured! I love writing this so much, it is so fluffy and gorgeous and overall just happy.

Also: The ending is shitty. I couldn’t figure out a way to end it without going into the plan I have for Chapter 3- yes, this is going to be a multi-chapter fanfic. Soooo… Forgive me. Please?

Also- Rose is based off my bestie @avilliansdream

I LOVE YOU BITCH (I’m sorry I made your character shitty)

Also: This is set in a sort of in-between era, where Dumbledore is still around and everyone is alive and happy but we don’t see Harry and crew bc… They are too angsty for this story and I want this to be happy and cheering and god that doesn’t make sense.

Warnings: Swearing. Tired Brian. Sass level 100%. No-fucks-given by Freddie. Basically just fluff!

Word count: 1266 words

Enjoy, my darlings! Please like, reblog, and send me feedback

Let me know if you want to be on my taglist!

Brian sighed, resting his chin on his hand as he stared at the looming blackboard, sporting numerous sums across its black finish. He felt hi­­s eyes flutter shut, the hours of sleep he had lost catching up with him. He had stayed up late that night, accompanied by his endless Astronomy textbooks and the silence of the common room, disturbed only by the flickering of the firelight and Melody’s soft snores from where she had dropped off 15 minutes before. He had debated telling her about John’s crush on her during their late night talks, but had decided against it.

‘Brian! Brian! Brian May!’ A voice called, pulling him back to reality.

‘Hmm? Yes?’ he asked, looking up through sleep-riddled eyes, dazed.

‘Sleeping in class, Mr May?’ McGonagall huffed, her eyes scanning his tired face from behind her glasses.

His eyes widened as he realised the gravity of his situation.

‘Um, no, miss!’ He spluttered. He looked next to him, seeing Roger trying to stifle a laugh- and failing. Melody shot him a pitying look, mouthing ‘Sorry!’ from her seat at the back of the room.

‘Is there something you want to add, Mr Taylor?’ the teacher snapped at Roger, who immediately shut up.

‘Detention, Mr May!’ she said, scowling.

‘But, miss!’ he feebly protested.

‘As I was saying, in this spell you must be careful….’ She said, walking back to the front of the classroom. Brian let his forehead slam onto the wooden desk, groaning loudly. How could he get a detention? He never got detentions!

‘Sorry, mate.’ Roger whispered, dipping his quill into the inkwell. ‘Maybe you should try and get some sleep. You’re overwhelming yourself, man.’

‘Shuddup, Rog.’ Brian mumbled from behind his curtain of curls. Roger shrugged, sultrily winking at a girl across the room. He reluctantly sat up, yanking his paper away from Roger.

‘Stop flirting and pay attention, Rog.’

‘I’m not flirting, I’m wooing. Besides, how can I help the fact that girls love me?’

Brian rolled his eyes, blowing a stray lock of hair out of his eyes.

Detention. What fun.

‘Detention, darling? That’s a new one.’ Freddie remarked as he leant against the stone wall in the sunny courtyard, unbuttoning his Slytherin tie and wrapping it around his wrist. Brian rolled his eyes, exchanging pointed glances with John, who was sitting on the stone bench, his robes discarded and his shirt slightly unbuttoned, soaking up the sunshine. John shrugged, letting his head fall back.

‘I’m just saying, darling, you need to loosen up. Maybe detention will do you some good.’

‘No, no it won’t, Fred!’

‘I disagree.’

‘Are you sure that’s the dress code, Fred?’ John interjected, gesturing to Freddie’s outfit- a complete mismatch of his Hogwarts uniform.

He’d ditched the sweater, leaving his chest only covered by his mostly unbuttoned white shirt. He’d wrapped his tie around his pants, deciding that if it was on his wrist it looked ‘too emo’. He’d also rolled up his pants, adorning them with colourful safety pins.

‘Course not, Deaky. But they can’t stop me, can they?’

‘They actually can, Fred.’ Deaky deadpanned.

‘Don’t kill the vibe, darling.’

‘Anyway! We were discussing poor Bri’s predicament.’ Roger interrupted from where he was lying in the sunlight, shirt open to expose his torso, drawing many looks and giggles from nearby girls- much to his amusement.

‘Just do the detention, Bri. They’ll just make you write lines or something. No biggie.’ Deaky kindly reassured.

‘Speaking from experience, Deaks?’ Roger asked, laughing.

‘Oh, is our Deaky actually a bad boy?’ Freddie giggled, adjusting his makeshift ‘belt’.

Deaky, in fact, had had multiple detentions, mainly for saying things that ‘should never even cross your mind’ to the people he hated. He was known as ‘Silvertongue’ to many students and teachers. If there was one thing you didn’t want to be, it was on John Deacon’s bad side.

‘Guys! Helllllloooooo!’ someone called, bouncing up to them.

‘Rose! Darling, it’s been too long!’ Freddie cheered, running to embrace the crazy girl who had just strutted in.

‘Freddie, you saw me an hour ago!’ she chided.

He ruffled her midnight-black hair, shorn into a spiky pixie cut. She huffed, puffing her lips and cheeks out dramatically.

‘Freddie! Must say, love the outfit.’

‘HA! See, Deaks, it IS good!’

‘I never said it wasn’t good, Fred. I just said it wouldn’t ring well with the teachers.’ John sighed, resisting the urge to slam his head into a brick wall.

‘Well, fuck them. Don’t you like it, darling?’ He asked Rose, twirling around.

‘I love it! It’s extravagant, daring…..’ Rose paused to think. ‘It just needs a bit of Mercury.’

‘Mercury?’

‘Mercury.’ She confirmed, raising an eyebrow.

‘Mercury?’ Roger asked, baffled.

‘Mercury, Rog.’ She confirmed, pulling a tube of eyeliner out of the pocket of her Gryffindor robe.

She grabbed Freddie’s face in her hands, commanding him to ‘stay still’. She quickly swiped the ink-black wand across his eyelids, conjuring an air of mystery about him. She popped the tube back in her pocket, clapping her hands gleefully.

‘Boom! Mercury!’ she declared, her brown eyes glinting under a coat of thick mascara.

‘Mercury, my dear!’ he laughed, spinning around.

Brian grinned at the sight of his best friend spinning around the courtyard, his robes flying out behind him like a cape, sunshine radiating like a crown above his head.

Rose collapsed on the ground next to Roger, giggling hysterically. Roger started laughing too, and soon Brian and Deaky joined in, the pure, unbridled happiness rippling through the air.

Brian smiled, feeling his cheek muscles hurt from laughing too much. Rose looked up and stuck her tongue out at him, crossing her eyes and puffing her cheeks out. That sent John into hysterics, snorting as his chest heaved with laughter, the oh-so-contagious laughter that sounded like the chime of a thousand different melodies all rolled into one.

Freddie kept on dancing, ignoring the stares from the other students as he glided across the sun-baked bricks, a silhouette against the blinding rays of light.

Brian flicked his hair out of his face, exchanging a gleeful smile with Deaky.

It was times like these when he was reminded of how lucky he was. Sitting here, in the sunlight with his best friends (and one added human) he was full.

This was what paradise felt like.

@onceuponadetectivedemigod @shesadramaqueen @ceruleanrainblues @sophieeelol @avilliansdream @yllwtaxi

#queen hogwarts au #queen x reader #queen band #queen #john deacon x reader #john deacon #john deacon x oc #brian may imagine #brian may x reader #brian may #brian fucking may #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor #roger taylor x oc #freddie mercury #freddie mercury is our god #freddie mercury x oc #ben hardy #ben hardy x oc #ben hardy x reader #joe mazzello x reader #joe mazzello #joe mozzarella #joe mazzello x oc #gwilym lee x reader #gwilym lee fluff #gwilym lee x reade #rami malek #i spent way too much time on this #i need sleep

[emmelineparker308]

Secrets- Part 5  END

Fandom: Harry Potter: Marauders Era

Pairing: Remus x Reader

Warnings: Angst but nothing major, major revelation

Summary: Remus and you have been dancing around the fact that you are both in love with the other. As a new year starts, Remus is determined to tell you about his secret as well as his feelings for you. However, something is off about you, you are keeping a secret that he does not know. A secret that could destroy everything they have.

A/N: Thank You so much for supporting this series. It truly started off as a two part fic that grew because of all the love and support you guys gave me. Thanks once again!

Remus was worried but he was also irritated. Because the full moon was approaching he was irritated with everything, he almost hexed a Ravenclaw for coughing too loud in class. However, he was also very worried, (Y/N) had been acting very strange. Granted you’ve been acting off ever since the start of the term, but this was different. Your parents visiting put you in a good mood for a bit but that soon started to wear off. You were just as irritated as Remus was but you were also very sad. Remus could tell something was bothering you but because of his own problem he couldn’t help you. Sirius had made a comment the other day about how he hasn’t seen you eat a meal in over a week. That comment made him think back to all of the meals, and indeed you were missing from most of them. During the meals you were present he noticed you were just moving the food in your plate around to make it look like you had eaten. 

Remus worried that maybe something was wrong with your parents. Maybe your mother was sick, maybe someone else was sick, a thousand possible problems went through his mind but he decided to solve the one problem he could. 

“Ow!” you stated as a paper airplane made contact with the back of your head. You were on your way to meet with Slughorn and get the potion. You picked up the paper and tried to look around to see who had sent it, seeing no one you opened it. “Meet me in our usual spot.- R.L” You smiled and sprinted to Slughorn’s office to get the potion, and after making sure the potion was safe you made your way to the empty classroom that was Remus’s and yours. Upon arrival you were met with the sweet aroma of food. 

“Hello love,” Remus stated as he welcomed you into the class that was filled with different foods. “I noticed that you haven’t been eating properly for a week now and I’ve also noticed that you’re sad. I requested the house elves to make some of your favorite dishes and they were more than happy to oblige.” You could have kissed the boy right then, but you held yourself back knowing that it was cruel to just let his feelings for you grow while you knew for sure that it wouldn’t blossom into anything. 

“Thank you Ray,” you meekly stated, tired from all the extra worrying, anger, and crying you’ve been doing lately. “You really shouldn’t have, I’m not hungry.” 

You tried to walk out of the room but Remus grabbed you by the elbow and pushed you into him. “Nuh-ah, you are not getting out of this room without eating a proper meal,” he commanded and pulled you all the way to chairs. He spoon fed you bits from all of your favorite meals and somehow hoodwinked you into eating an entire meal. “I don’t know why you’ve been sad and distracted lately, but love just know that I’ll always be here for you,” Remus stated seriously. It was too much, the worrying over keeping everything a secret, worrying about what would happen if someone found out, and worrying about leaving without a trace in case your secret was out. It was all too much and you ran out of the room with tears in your eyes. 

You ran all the way to the Astronomy Tower, finding a quiet nook you let the tears roll silently as you watched the night sky. 

“It’s such a beautiful night isn’t it,” Sirius said as you shrieked in surprise. “Relax woman, it’s just me,” he laughed and threw an arm around your shaking body. 

“Remus told you?” you asked. 

“Yeah, that and I’ve been wanting to talk to you,” he admitted. 

“I don’t want to talk about anything.”

“Okay, then we’ll stay here and look at the stars,” Sirius stated, he was not going to leave you to cry your eyes out alone, no matter how much you forced him to. 

“If I tell you something will you keep it a secret?” you asked not able to bear this secret to yourself anymore.

“I will take your secret with me to the grave,” he assured you. 

“Something happened over the summer, Siri. Something horrible happened to me,” you paused taking a deep breath in before continuing. “I got attacked by Fenrir Greyback. He bit me Sirius.” 

Sirius didn’t know how to react, he couldn’t even blink. His poor sister has been suffering through this plight all alone. “You’re a werewolf?” he asked to confirm the conclusion he had made from your story. You only managed to nod, keeping your head down, not having the courage to look at Sirius’s face. He tightened his hold on you “Oh my love,” was all Sirius could say. He held you, reassured you that he will always be by your side, and that nothing has changed between you two. 

After you had calmed, he dared to ask you, “Have you told Remus about this?” Your face was all the answer he needed. “I won’t tell him love, but I really think you should. It’ll only help.”

“No it won’t Siri. If I tell him about this maybe just maybe he might stick by my side but all the feelings he has for me will fade away. He’ll go from liking me to just tolerating me. My heart can’t handle that,” you explained as you both made your way to the Gryffindor Common Room. After Sirius made sure you returned to your dormitory he opted to take a walk. He knew that Remus would be worried and irritated, waiting up to make sure that you were okay. 

Sirius didn’t know what to do, he couldn’t tell you that Remus would be the only person in this entire planet that would understand what you were going through and that he would only love you more, because of the promise Sirius made with Remus. And he couldn’t tell Remus about your problem putting Remus’s worries to rest because of Sirius’s promise to you. “Listen I haven’t asked you for much but can you help me out?” he screamed in frustration at the skies hoping some higher authority would interfere with his friends love life. 

Not much happened after that incident, Remus seemed to avoid you, and you, him leading to the marauders being in a weird position. Remus avoided you because he couldn’t help but think that he pushed you too much and caused you pain. You avoided him because after the conversation with Sirius all you wanted to do was explain to Remus about your condition. It was like every time he was near you couldn’t help but try and spill the truth to him. 

All too soon the dreaded day came, the full moon was tonight. You had prepared yourself, making up a lie that you were going to visit your mother and father for a couple of days, you disappeared from your dormitory. You tapped on the Whomping Willow, like Professor McGonagall had instructed and found a room to get comfortable in. As the sunset you drank your potion and tearfully waited for the horrible sensation to take over. It was at that moment the door to your room opened and to your horror Remus John Lupin stood facing you with wide eyes. 

“ (Y/N)?” he questioned, “what are you doing here?” 

He looked like he was struggling to keep his facial expressions neutral but you knew him well enough to know that he was in pain. “Remus? What are you doing here?” you asked as you felt the pain start for you. Your mind started to go a kilometer a minute, you had to get him out of here before you turned or his life would be in danger. You noticed that a dog, a stag and a rat was peeking into the room as well but before you could question it another wave of pain shot through you. 

“ (Y/N), you can’t be in here. Not right now,” he replied, tears forming in his eyes. He had to hold on the walls because of his pain, and you wanted nothing more than to soothe him. 

“No Remus you can’t be here. Not at this time, it’s too dangerous for you,” you exclaimed worriedly that you might hurt the love of your life. 

“No (Y/N/N), please you can’t be here. I don’t want you to get hurt,” Remus responded. You knew that you had to reveal the truth to him, any other words would not get Remus to realize the seriousness and dangers of the situation. 

“Remus this is serious. In a couple of minutes, I’ll transform into a werewolf. And once that happens I’ll have no control over anything that happens. I might hurt you. Please, Ray, I can’t handle the thought of hurting you,” you explain defeated. You knew to tell him everything ruined any and every chance of a relationship between the both of you. But you didn’t care, Remus being safe and sound was more important to you than having a relationship with him. You got up the courage to take a peek at him, the eyes which you expected to spew hate and hurt showed something else, care, compassion, and love? What was going on? You were sure Remus would have run for the hills by now, after hearing your confession yet here he was, standing rooted in his spot with his gaze transfixed on you. He walked over to you, wincing in pain every once in a while, and towered over you. Before you knew what was happening Remus’s lips were attached to yours. The kiss was filled with passion and love but before you could say anything the wolf took over. Panic came over you as the last thing you saw was his kind brown eyes. 

Pain was all you felt when you came too. Pain, and moments later cold. What on earth happened? And that’s when it all came flooding back. The Full Moon. The Potion. The Confessions. The Kiss. 

“Remus,” you breathed as. Your voice was hoarse and quiet but he still managed to hear it. 

“I’m here my Love,” he replied. 

“What happened?” you asked as more and more of your memories came back. 

“Before you say anything, know this, I will always be here for you,” he stated coming over to your bed. He has several bandages strewn across his body and you looked away with tears filled eyes thinking that you had hurt the love of your life. Remus was quick to notice this and brought your face towards him. “Had I just gotten up the courage to tell you this before, none of this would have happened,” at your puzzled look he chuckled and continued on, “ (Y/N), I am a werewolf. I was bitten by Fenrir Greyback when I was a child. I’ve been suffering from it even before I came to Hogwarts. The Whomping Willow was planted just for me. I isolated myself from even my friends thinking that no one would accept me, but soon my friends found out. When they did all they did was support me and even turned into animagi for me. I don’t ever want you to feel like you are alone, I will be with you always. The next thing I want to clear up is that (Y/N) I am hopelessly in love with you. I don’t think it is at all a surprise to you seeing as how you are very intelligent you would have figured it out by now but I only thought it proper for me to come out and say it. If you would give me a chance and allow me to make you my girlfriend I would be the happiest bloke in the world.”

His confession had you in tears, and without a second thought you threw yourself into his arms. He winced in pain but welcomed the action, “I’ll take that as a yes?” he chuckled.

“No,” you responded, getting out of his grasp but before he could say anything you grabbed his face and kissed him with the same amount of passion and love that was present the night of the full moon. “You can take that as a yes,” you smirked as he broke the kiss for air. 

“Alright you two, get a room,” Sirius and the other marauders interrupted you. and proceeded to bring you the chocolates and treats they sneaked fresh from Hogsmeade to you. After a couple of minutes of silent eating it finally hit you. 

“That’s what those stupid pet names stood for!” You screamed making all the boys jump. 

“Bleeding hell, women you are going to give me a heart attack,” Sirius jokingly held onto his heart. 

“Shush,” you waved him off. “You're the stag, Prongs. You’re the rat, Wormtail. You’re the dog, Padfoot.” You laughed finally figuring out the meaning behind the names. 

“Well done. You’ve found yourself a keeper Moony,” James exclaimed laughing. “By the way, it goes without saying that none of us will ever tell another soul of your secret.”

As you sat there sharing treats with your friends and you now boyfriend, you were starting to feel hopeful again. The year that you thought would be your worst was turning out to be your best year yet. 

Taglist: @lullabylike​ @renreypoe​ @byesexualsatan

#Harry Potter #harry potter series #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter marauders #Marauders #marauders era #marauders imagine #marauders x reader #James Potter #Sirius Black #sirius black x sister!reader #peter pettigrew #Remus Lupin #remus lupin fanfiction #remus x reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin one shot #angst #fluff #marauders fandom #marauders fanfiction

[drinkupthesunrise]

May the Fourth Exchange 2018 Letter

Dear Yoda,

In general, I like: pining, unrequited love that turns out not to be unrequited, people being friends & in love with each other generally, found family, ridiculous references, fic that explores what characters mean to each other in a greater context, alt!timeline shit (ie, what would happen if a character had made x choice instead of y), complicated relationships, baby/kid!fic, hurt/comfort.

Things I do not want: character bashing, unnecessary character death (ymmv here it’s Star Wars, characters die, I accept that, but please don’t kill anyone off in the pairings, canonical deaths are fine), gratuitous / explicit violence, mundane!AUs (coffee!shop, high school/college, etc), dubcon/noncon in any form, cheating, first person POV.

General links that might be useful to you: my ao3 works, my fic writing tag, my ficlet tag, and my general star wars tag. 

General note: I like characters, and relationships, best when they’re situated in a world that feels real, and that means having other characters around them, and the relationships between them. While the pairings below should definitely be the focus of any fic, please feel free to slip in other things that you think I might like. I think what’s below should give you an idea of that, hopefully :D. For instance, I adore Wedge’s relationship / friendship with the rest of the Fab Four / his pilots in general, and I find the Han / Luke / Leia dynamic endlessly fascinating (both platonically and romantically on all sides), I’m always up for guest appearances from anyone from any point in canon.

Wedge Antilles/Luke Skywalker

Would happily take anything, but specific loves include stuff with them founding Rogue Squadron and that early part of their relationship, where they’re a little unsure and unfamiliar but still utterly trusting of each other? Or in the aftermath of Endor where Luke’s off founding the Jedi Order and Wedge is off fighting the Imperial Remnant and they’re trying to work out if they could have a relationship in all of that? I really love these two, the relationship between them really is one of my all-time faves.

I am also desperate for pre-and-post-TLJ era fic for them. What does Wedge make of Luke’s choices and decisions? Did Wedge go with him to Ahch-To? If Wedge is present, how does that affect the choices Luke makes?

I would also sell my soul for Jedi Academy-era fic in which Wedge is a teacher at Luke’s Jedi Academy, either with them in an established relationship and founding the school, or where Wedge gets involved somehow and slowly realises, oh, actually, Luke is very attractive and there is a lot of pining, and Luke is off having the same realisations about Wedge.

Wedge Antilles/Biggs Darklighter

They must have known each other on Yavin, so it’s not inconceivable that they might have met and, y’know, got it on. So quick and dirty introductions, or possibly even something set later, after the Death Star battle, where Biggs!lives and the two pilots who didn’t get that shot off try and find solace in each other.

Wedge Antilles/Leia Organa

I think Wedge and Leia are very alike, in some ways - both soldiers with a sense of duty that goes far beyond themselves, who’d sacrifice their personal lives for their ideals every time. So anything that builds on that, really; either early Alliance / Rebellion (pre / post Yavin), with Leia still trying to sort out her feelings for Han / Luke and working them out with the person who is the mid-ground between the two (fight me on this Wedge is Han’s smuggling no-good self crossed with Luke’s idealism and good!man nature), or possibly after the Jedi Temple Massacre, or post TLJ, where they are the last two left standing and seek solace in each other?

Also! If you have read the 2013 Marvel Star Wars comic (the Wood/D’Anda one), you should know I was so very very very weak for Leia as Squadron Commander and Wedge as her second, and I cannot believe that was an actual thing that happened in Legends okay??

Wedge Antilles/Leia Organa/Han Solo Okay so Wedge spends an astonishing amount of time in the X-Wing books putting Han and Leia’s relationship back together (only for The Courtship of Princess Leia to happen, poor guy.) Like. He’s really invested in it. And also half in love with both of them it seems.

But, what I really want … is new canon, in which during the Aftermath trilogy Wedge ends up staying with Leia, and sort of never leaves, and even when Han comes back he’s still there, and then he helps out when Ben is born, because Wedge is very good with babies and this is a very important fact, and slowly Han and Leia realise, oh, wait, we never want him to leave.

I would also be very happy with drunken hook-ups, or Han and Leia accidentally propositioning Wedge.

Wedge Antilles/Bodhi Rook

So – well, Wedge was at the Imperial Academy for a time, as was Bodhi, and although it’s unlikely they were in classes together, I think that their paths could have crossed; what’s it like when they see each other on Yavin all those years later? If Bodhi is the only survivor of the Rogue One team, and Wedge is the only survivor of the original pilots (Luke is too new, really) do they find solace in each other? Do they only really catch up after the war with each other, and suddenly realise that no one else is quite going to understand their grief? (I am heavily into Wedge Antilles has a case of survivor’s guilt the size of a Star Destroyer this ship only compounds my feelings).

Wedge Antilles/Lando Calrissian

They took down a Death Star together, that’s a start. I think the other thing about these two is they’re both very set on keeping their people safe – Wedge with his pilots, Lando with the people of Cloud City, and they have principles and lines they won’t cross but they’ll go through hell and back to try and save as many as they can. So maybe something about that?

Wedge Antilles/Mara Jade/Luke Skywalker

In which Wedge Antilles and Mara Jade have precisely one thing in common: they both think that Luke Skywalker is endearing and also kinda useless, and would do anything for him. Which includes teaming up to save Luke when he gets into yet more trouble (insert situation of choice here) despite the fact that Mara is really not very convinced by this short fly-boy with floppy hair who cannot act, and Wedge is not really over the fact that Mara wanted to kill Luke. Bonus points for them discovering that they have far more in common than they think, and for Talon Karrde & Booster Terrik background shenanigans.

(I’d be okay with platonic!wedge&mara, if you can’t get that bit to work, but I would like Wedge and Mara to both be in love with Luke - or on their way there - and for Luke to love them both back.)

Wes Janson/Derek “Hobbie” Klivian

So Wes and Hobbie are like the ultimate wingpair / brothers-in-arms, they are two peas in a pod, and I love them. I like slow realisation of feelings, the dragging out of the relationship over the years, perhaps one of them pining away whilst the other one wakes up one day and is like ‘oh, it’s you, you’ve been here all along and I never noticed.’ But also! Comic shenanigans, prank wars between them, practical jokes, truth or dare - I’m easy to please, honestly.

Jagged Fel/Jaina Solo/Zekk

Okay, for those who didn’t go and read all of Legends… Jagged Fel is Wedge Antilles nephew, Jaina Solo was Han and Leia’s daughter, and Zekk was one of Luke’s students. There was a bit of a love triangle going on. However, in many points, it was less of a love triangle, and more… well. They should have all banged.

Key moments include that time Jaina and Zekk were in a hive mind, and got slightly confused over whose memories were whose, leading to this conversation:

Our boyfriend means business, Zekk observed.

Don’t know that it’s him. And it’s old boyfriend.

Right. We’re so over him.

We?

And also the bit in Legacy of the Force: Invincible, where after Jag and Zekk help pull Jaina out of a sticky situation, she, in a state of confusion due to her banged up head, asks them to both to bunk with her.

So, basically, I want poly shenanigans – fic after the proposed quarters sharing would be great (what if Jag and Zekk took her seriously and had already moved everything about by the time she came round???), messy relationship rebuilding after the Dark Nest fiasco, something where Zekk steps in as Jaina and Jag’s relationship starts to fall apart post NJO? I dunno. But I want them all to kiss.

Plourr Ilo/Evaan Verlaine

They are both kickass lady pilots, and they are both very gay, sooooooooo… it is a crime that they do not exist in the same canon. I want shenanigans. I want an encounter where one or both is undercover and they don’t realise the other is a rebellion / new republic pilot until after everything. I want them on different squadrons trying to one up each other.

Wedge Antilles/Col "Fake Wedge" Takbright

I can’t believe Jason Fry made ‘fake wedge’ an actual thing, but IT HAPPENED, and so we should all take advantage of this glorious fact by making them kiss or something, I dunno, fill in the blanks.

On a semi-serious note, I actually really like the care between them at the end of that story, how Col takes one look at about-to-succumb-to-the-worst-survivor’s-guilt-wedge and just, doesn’t stand for it. And so I would LOVE fic about all the times that Col keeps digging Wedge out of despair. Maybe about how Col turns into Wedge’s most erstwhile defender, and Wedge keeps asking why Col keeps putting himself on the line for him, and realisations about how maybe what’s between them has developed into something more.

#may the fourth #fic writing #fic exchange #okay i think i've covered my bases on everything I want

[liw-the-melancholic-apple]

How it may have gone - Humble Beginnings

A fic taking place in the marauders era. While the political climate seems to head to a conflict, James, Sirius, Remus and Peter are still just teenagers. Dealing with typical teenage problems.

But this year their little group grows. Who would have known that more prefects would be a good thing?

Masterlist

Three: Nightshift

It was definitely light out when I woke. Judging by the shadow of my bedpost it had been light out for a while. I made a content noise, turned around and snuggled back into my blanket. Weekends. How I loved them. Sleep as long as you want. Spend the whole day in bed. Go to breakfast in your pj’s. Laugh at the prefects who have to attend all meals.

Oh crap! Prefects have to attend all meals. Including breakfast. How late was it? I sat up, all of a sudden wide awake and checked the muggle alarm clock on my nightstand. Nine. I relaxed a bit. On the weekends breakfast was served until ten o’clock, so I had not yet broken the rules. Partially involuntarily I got out of bed and to my wardrobe. My clothes all looked equally less comfortable than my pyjamas, so I blindly went for a pair of jeans and a jumper. Both dark in colour. I mainly dressed in black, grey, burgundy, dark blue and dark green. The only light colour that made it into my closet was white.

I had just finished dressing when Blair came back from the bathroom. She waved at me and smiled but didn’t say a single word. I signed to her to give me five minutes, got ready in record time and went to breakfast together with her. The other three still laid in their comfortable, comfortable beds.

Mainly, I liked being a prefect. A lot of the things I was obligated to do as a prefect I had already done in other years of my own volition. The only negative aspects of the gig were the nightshifts, one of which I had tonight, and that silly meal-rule. I really wasn’t a fan of that. And I couldn’t quite understand it. Why did I have to be present at breakfast? What good did it do if the others knew I did not sleep in?

To my delight Blair didn’t look all that happy either. She was way more of a morning person than me but she was gone for the entire afternoon with her sister and had disappeared right after dinner again. I didn’t hear her come back to the dorm and Milla and I had stayed up forever. One more reason to not go to breakfast but sleep until lunch.

Silently we plummeted on the bench at our table and both blankly stared at the dishes in front of us. I had no idea what I wanted to eat because my body was still in sleeping-mode and I guessed that Blair felt the exact same way. A way too happy face sat down across from us holding a big pot in its hands. The face laughed, grabbed two clean mugs and filled them with the holy dark liquid from the pot. Then, it put the mugs down in front of Blair and me and started smiling even wider. “Bottoms up, beautifuls!” I cracked a smile as I took a sip. Blair inspected her cup first, but found that the happy face had remembered how she drank her coffee and filled the mug with more milk than caffeine. She, too, smiled up at the face that now twitched its eyes between her and me with a crazy grin.

Sleep deprivation affects people differently. I, for example got grumpy and quiet and didn’t want to do or think anything. Crick, on the other hand, went into overdrive and thought, talked, smiled and clapped like there was no tomorrow. The crazy grin on the other side of the breakfast table was his. He had worked the prefect’s nightshift from Friday to Saturday and it showed.

“Good morning to you, too”, I finally interrupted his endless words after my third gulp of coffee.

“How was your night, then?”

“Oh, nothing special. Nothing special. Callaghan was on my floor. That was pretty relaxed, yeah, pretty relaxed, nothing really happened. Found two seventh years trying to sneak around, but we commanded them back to their respective dorms. Nothing special noth…”

“Oh, for Morgana’s sake Nathaniel, speak less, or more quiet!”, Blair shouted, still grinning at him but also pained by his joy this early in the morning.

“You never call me Nathaniel, Blair Caroline, why start now? Huh? I actually like being Crick and I don’t think I’ll react to Nathaniel at all anymore. You could try Nate if you don’t like Crick anymore, that’s what my parents call me but nobody else does. Not even my brothers. But I could of course get used to it if you just stuck with it long enough”, he laughed like maniac and Blair shook her head chuckling.

“Forget it. Crick’s fine by me.”

“Yeah, he is!” He exaggerated a wink at Blair and straightened the collar of his shirt which sent us both into a fit of laughter we couldn’t recover from for a while. While we were trying to Crick had two more cups of coffee and a toast with jelly and chocolate spread. Fuelled by all the caffeine and respectable amounts of sugar he kept us company a bit longer, before he saw Magnus and Chloe enter the Great Hall and jumped up to wish them the best of Mornings.

I watched amused as Chloe duck under his arms to join us and Magnus greeted Crick with a cold hard “No. Not now. Go away.” Which didn’t seem to faze Crick in the least and he followed Magnus against his protests to the other sixth years a little further down the table. They were met with a collective groan.

Chloe took Crick’s spot across from us and fished the last croissant from one of the baskets. While she buttered it she said: “We need to get your shift plans hung up in our dorm, Jette. I don’t want this to happen to me when I’m not prepared. Did you see he nearly hit me? He’s a danger to the public… Morning by the way.”

“Morning”, Blair and I mumbled into oud bowls of porridge. “I can get a copy tonight, if you want. But I doubt anticipating his madness will make I more bearable.”

“How were you in love with that?” Nica sat down next to Chloe, clearly having overheard our conversation. She looked at me with very judgemental eyebrows. I sighed.

“First of all I was never in love with that”, I gestured vaguely to the sixth years, “I had a very cute crush on it. And Secondly when I had that cute little crush on it, it was in fourth year and not yet a prefect, so I didn’t know that that”, again I pointed down the table, “would ever come into existence.”

“Fair enough”, Nica bit into her raisin roll. “Buf”, she said right after, “I fill fink fat hile it’s stranfe you woulda been a cue couple.” She swallowed. “I can see it before me: Crick and Jette– prefects in love. Perfect wedding, perfect jobs, perfect kids, perfect life”, she dreamed, earning an irritated look from me and amused ones from the other two girls.

“It only seems strange because we’re not used to it. If they ever were to get together we’d be used to it in not time and it would only be cute”, said Chloe. “You all said I was being ridiculous when I told you I fancied Magnus and you don’t find that weird. Right?”, her voice got a little higher there.

“No, you are just adorable together. Nothing weird about that”, Blair reassured her with a warm smile.

“You haven’t talked to the Potter-posse all day, yesterday”, Nica then scolded me and I assumed that the group had just walked through the door causing her to stop nagging me about how I should start dating Crick because she would love to see our babies. She did that regularly ever since I confessed to have had a crush on him in third year.

“Yes I did. Had a lovely chat about History of Magic with Remus yesterday.” She stared at me with her thick eyebrows narrowed.

“When? And why didn’t you tell me?”

“Speaking of crushes, yours is getting a little scary”, Blair commented as she reached for the pumpkin juice.

“I didn’t tell you, because I didn’t think you’d be interested in his opinions on the goblin riots and I talked to him during detention.”

“Was James there?”

“No. Why would he have been? He’s got detention with Hagrid, remember?” Her spontaneous anger with me left her immediately and she concentrated on her raisin roll again.

“You’re gone with Mag all weekend, right, Chloe?” Blair clearly had had enough of all the boytalk and wanted to get to planning the weekend. Chloe hesitantly confirmed. “Not all weekend. I guess we’ll see each other at dinner.” Blair waved dismissively at her and turned to Nica and me. “But we’re still going to Hogsmeade, I reckon?”

“That was the plan. I need new hair ties and I would kill for a hot Chocolate with butterbeer”, Nica nodded enthusiastically.

“I’m in, too. But I don’t know how long I’ll stay. I really gotta take a nap before the nightshift.”

“What about Milla?”, Blair looked at Nica.

“Still slept when I left.”

“Check whether she wants to come when we get our stuff and get going as soon as possible?”, I zesuggested as I finished my third giant mug of coffee and felt like life wasn’t all that horrible at last. No complaints.

While Nica and Blair interrogated Chloe about her plans with Magnus I slipped away for a smoke.

“I really don’t see why you have to run as if death was after you”, Milla snapped for the eighth time. Now, I was a little difficult in the mornings, especially if I hadn’t slept as long as I wanted to but I was a heavenly delight compared to Milla after she was woken up against her will.

We had found her more or less awake when went back to the dorm to get our bags, purses and jackets. She said that yes, she really wanted to come but that she had to eat first.

That’s another thing with Milla. She turns into a monster when she’s hungry. So, before any of us had the courage to tell her that we had come back up because breakfast was no longer served we all went through our drawers to find what was left of our sweets stashes. We threw two pumpkin pasties and some whizzing whizzbees at her without saying anything. When she realised she’d missed breakfast her disproportionally big doll-like light blue eyes narrowed and she growled. But she got up none the less, ate her poor excuse for a first meal and got ready in record time.

It was obvious though, that she was at this point, halfway to the village, both: tired and hungry. And that was a very explosive combination. “We’re not running”, Nica snapped back for the eighth time but slowed down even more. At this rate we would arrive in Hogsemeade when I had to leave again to be back in time for my preparation nap.

“Why didn’t we just go later? We could’ve caught lunch at least”, Milla complained and I had to tell myself not to get too annoyed.

“I told you that you could meet us later – after lunch – but that I had to go right away because I got the nightshift today.”

“So what? Why can’t I have lunch if you have to work at night? No correlation!” There was and she knew there was.

“Again: You could’ve eaten lunch and met up with us later. But since I have to stay awake all night I wanna be able to sleep a bit before dinner and wanna go back around three, maybe half past. Which would not leave a lot of time if I had waited until lunch.”

“Why did you sign up for that whole prefect thing, if you’re not capable of doing it without ruining everyone’s weekend?”, Milla snarled and I gave up. Once we got her into the Three broomsticks and some food in her stomach she would calm down and apologise for being such a whiny pain in the arse. My not answering didn’t make her any happier though and the walk to the pub seemed hours longer than normally.

Happy as a child on Christmas Milla munched down on some Macaroni and Cheese as the rest of us enjoyed Hot ButterChocolate. It was a specialty of Miss Rosmerta's, she combined two thirds of chocolate with one third of butterbeer and topped it off with caramel cream. As soon as the weather got ugly between October and November I craved the stuff.

“I may have been a bit snippy back there”, Milla said shyly while chewing on the last noodle. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“It’s fine”, Blair grinned. “We know that your impossible when tired and hungry. We were prepared.”

With Milla and consequently our whole group in better spirits we strolled down the main road of Hogsmeade, looking in the windows and popping in some of the shops to get the girl’s essentials. Once all that was done and our to-do-lists were all checked off, Milla and Nica dragged Blair and me into the little Quidditch shop just off the main road. No comparison to Quality for Quidditch in Diagon Ally but you could find every spare part for your uniform and broom. Besides they had coloured Quidditch sets that sparkled in the Hogwarts House colours as well as some bright neon varieties and a sickening orange.

Milla had been eyeing the neon pink set for ages, since she didn’t have any balls at home and used to practice her beating with footballs or stuffed animals which just weren’t the same thing as a bludger. The bright pink was just a bonus to her. She had inspected the price card on the bubblegum pink box the set came in at least a hundred times and so she did now, finding that to her disappointment the price hadn’t dropped.

“It’s so much money!”, she groaned.

“Do you have so much money?”, Nica stood on her toes and looked over Milla’s shoulder.

“Theoretically”

“Then buy the damn box. You’ve wanted it for ages and you can afford it.”

“I know but I could buy so many chocolate frogs for the exact same amount. It’s just so much money…” Milla grabbed and let go of her earlobe again and again like she always did when she got nervous or insecure.

“Christmas isn’t that far away”, Blair chimed in.

“Nice idea!” We high-fived.

“Just tell your parents you would like the set for Christmas and that you could buy it here and owl it over. They could give you back the money.” Milla still played with her earlobe.

“Or you pay half of it and ask them for the other half for Christmas”, I suggested.

“Nah, they’d buy it for me for Christmas. But…” I slapped my head against the shelf next to me. “You aren’t really afraid that they’ll take away your shopping spree if you wish for the balls?” Milla shrugged and we all started laughing.

On a day to day basis Milla wasn’t all that girly. She combatted her very doll-like big eyes, small frame and blond hair by using dark eyeliner, never wearing skirts or dresses in private and cutting her hair into a short pixie with adorable but wild fringe. That more sporty, one-of-the-boys-image was what she wanted but she couldn’t help that she loved pink and shopping.

The annual Christmas shopping spree with her parents was probably the highlight of her year and she wouldn’t miss it for the world.

“Just think about it. And if you don’t want to wish for it for Christmas, but still want to have it you’ll spend the money on the last weekend before the holidays. Then it won’t hurt as badly because of the shopping spree and any other financial aids you might get for Christmas.” Blair took the price card out of Milla’s hand and wanted to lead her out of the shop when she turned back around to me.

“Where’s Nica?”

I looked to my right, where Nica had just stood and laughed but she was indeed gone. I looked around a bit to find her but that was pretty useless. Losing Nica in a crowded place was pretty much a worst-case scenario. You could not find her again. Her head was about the same height as everybody else’s shoulders or even elbows. She was so short that you’d just overlook her.

Milla had directly skipped the visual search – because she knew it was useless – and shouted for Nica to come back. Unfortunately, to no avail.

Blair and I started our own trials but Nica remained gone. “Unbelievable!”, Blair scoffed and did a 360 to take in her surroundings just in case the crowd would part and reveal a short girl with an impressive afro. Of course it didn’t. Again we shouted, even if half-heartedly this time. The second round of yelling led to a couple annoyed and dismissive looks but also to a long arm waving us over. “Is that Lupin?”, Milla asked confused.

“Is it incomprehensibly tall and has sand blond hair?”, I asked her back while I tried to move out from behind the pillar that blocked my view of the body the arm was attached to. When I at last succeeded Milla had already confirmed that it was Remus waving but still didn’t have a clue why. His face was clearly visible as he towered over most other students and it showed his mischievous grin. He waved again and then pointed to his left where I spotted a birdsnest of black hair peeking out  from behind a shelf with gloves. As all three of us looked back to Remus he lowered his waving arm a fair bit and nodded and then pointed at the birdsnest again.

“Of course she spotted Potter!”, Blair scoffed again, took me by one and Milla by the other hand and guided us to the other side of the room where Remus waited for us still grinning.

“Lost something?”, he greeted us.

“How’d you get that idea?”, Milla answered while she struggled to keep her balance as a couple of thirdyears pushed past her. Remus caught her with a hand between he shoulders and put her back on both feet. She thanked him and then looked over to the glove shelf.

“I take it Nica’s over there?”, I pointed my eyes at Potter’s back. If she was over there he very effectively blocked my view of her.

“Yep, he bumped into her while they were both looking at the gloves”, he said knowingly and couldn’t help but admire Nica’s effort and strategy. And her speed, to be honest. She had seen him run over here and staged her little meet-cute in the same time that we had laughed about Milla’s shopping trip and decided to leave.

“I swear she has a sixth sense or something”, Blair giggled neck elongated to catch a glimpse of our friend. I copied her movement, it didn’t work in the slightest. Blair was a good bit taller than me.

“So, do we just get her?”, Milla asked a little insecure and began grabbing her earlobe.

“You can try”, answered Remus, “But she asked him about his strategies – mind the plural – for the game against Ravenclaw and he jumped at the chance. They were going over his ideas for the third minute, when I heard you call her…

“Morgana’s broom, we’re gonna be here forever!”, Blair leaned against the shelf in despair. I had to agree with her. It would likely be impossible to separate those two before they had been over the strategies for maybe an hour of the game. I knew enough about Nica to estimate that and I heard enough about Potter to take a good guess. We looked at each other a little lost, when a hand landed on Remus shoulder and pulled him back to widen the little circle we had formed.

“Let’s go to honeyduke’s or something. I told Prongs to meet us at the Broomstick’s at five. I’m done listening to those strategies. Get enough of it at practice…” Black didn’t even realise we were there. Pettigrew did, however, lifted his hand, smiled and said: ”Hey.” That messed up Black’s steady flow of complaints and he turned to find who Pettigrew was talking to.

“You”, he glared at all three of us. “This is your fault.”

“Come again?”, Milla requested.

“You brought her here and she asked him about the game and that’s why he goes over everything in thirty second intervals.” He still glared, when Blair went “Morgana’s Broom!” again.

Remus slapped Black on the back, then exchanged looks with Pettigrew. “You’re welcome to flee to the Broomsticks with us”, Peter then said. “I doubt that James would leave… Ni…ca… alone if they can’t find you. He’ll take her with him.”

“Deal!”, Milla smiled without consulting Blair or me. “Anything to get out of this crowd!”, she explained while Remus kept her standing up for the fourth time. “Thanks. Again”, she mumbled a little dishevelled and irritated but with a smile.

“Anytime”  Remus put his hands on her shoulder and steered her to the door, every now and then turning back to see whether we still followed him.

Outside I lit a cigarette and checked the time. Milla grabbed my smoke and kept it for herself when I leaned over to her to tell her I’d be off. “You two are gonna be fine, right? And Nica, too, I assume. If I leave now I can catch two maybe even three hours before dinner and I have a shot at not being a zombie tomorrow.” Both, she and Blair assured me that they wouldn’t die without me and sent me on my merry way.

As little fun as the way to the village was with Milla’s constant complaints, it was even worse on the way back. The clouds had taken over the sky again, keeping the sunlight and its warmth away and the wind had gotten stronger, too. With nobody to distract me from my misery I grumbled some curses under my breath and thanked God when I finally reached my common room.

It was basically empty. All students who were allowed to go to Hogsmeade had gone, this could be the last non-rainy, non-snowy day at the village and everybody who was still too young was either studying in the library or hanging out in the Great Hall. Our common room was only ever really used in the evenings.

The only living being in it right now was a mountain of blankets and pillows piled on one of the grey couches. I knew it was a living thing because it rhythmically breathed. Carefully, I got closer, with a very specific idea who I might find under the pile of comfortable. I reached out to his shoulder. He moaned but didn’t wake up.

“Crick, if you want to sleep through dinner you should probably go up to your bed. Otherwise they’ll all come through here in about an hour keeping you awake. Again, he moaned but this time he turned toward me, eyes still closed.

“How late is it?”

“Just after four o’clock.”

“Hm… But it’s so warm and comfy here”, his eyes grew big and pleading and could have belonged to a toddler rather than a seventeen year old.

“I’m not telling you what to do, I’m just suggesting you fall back asleep in your own bed so you can be left in peace until tomorrow.”

“Fine”, he shot me an annoyed look and sat up. “If you insist.” Then he flopped my topknot back with his hand and wished me a good night. I followed him smiling. Back in my pyjamas I couldn’t imagine any better feeling than laying in bed, when I pulled up the covers.

I was woken up by two equally unpleasant sounds: The aggressive ringing of my alarm clock and a high pitched shriek of surprise. I hit the clock and hesitantly opened my eyes to see who had died. As it turned out nobody had. But Chloe hadn’t anticipated my alarm.

She sat on her bed in a towel, two dresses laid out in front of her and gasped for air. “Sorry”, I mumbled and sat up. Apart from her the room was empty.

“No, don’t be.”

“Choosing what to wear for your date?”, I teased feeling a lot better than when I had to get up that morning.

“Hmhm.”

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing, really. Magnus has convinced the houseelves to let us take some of the food for dinner up to the planetarium.”

“Awwww, dinner under the stars! How sweet!”

“Yea, yeah, shut up.” She grinned.

“How did you get Sinistra to let you use it, though?” For all I know the astronomy professor was really protective of her planetarium. Word was that she had grown sick and tired of constantly being ill during the winter months when she had to teach on the windy tower and didn’t like it either that the other teachers blamed her for the cold epidemics. Sometime before we had started at Hogwarts she had gotten a second chamber in the tower and converted it into a fully functional planetarium to teach there in the winter.

Apart from the obvious advantage of a nicer temperature and less sniffles during class, it also meant that Astronomy could be taught during the day, which we had profited from not only in the winter but the summer as well. Anyway, Sinistra was extremely protective of that room and got unnecessarily mad when someone let an empty bottle laying around. I couldn’t imagine that she would let two students use is without her supervision. And I really didn’t expect her to show up to Chloe’s one year anniversary.

“Ehhhhm….”, Chloe started her answer and I realised that Sinistra did not let them use the room.

“How long are you planning to stay there?”, I couldn’t help but smirk.

“I don’t know, why?”

“Because we haven’t yet decided who takes which floor tonight and if you’re gonna stay the night or at least until after curfew I could take the eighth and ninth floor, so you won’t get caught disgracing the holy planetarium.”

“Would you do that for us?”

“Sure, why not.” I put my jeans back on. “But I can’t guarantee a safe passage back to the common room. Come to think of it, maybe it’s best if you stay there and just come back down for breakfast. If someone asks why you’re up there you can always say you looked for something or whatever…”

“Are you – a prefect – encouraging me – a student – to disregard the schoolrules on proper use of the facilities and the curfew?”

“See, I thought it was a great proof of my friendship but when you put it like that it sounds like I really should take back the offer."

“No! Nononononono! Please, don’t. I’d love to take you up on it. And I’ll make it up to you.”

“No need.”

I came out of the bathroom to brush my hair and noticed the emptiness of the dorm once more. “Where are the others? It’s not like them to not fix their faces before going to dinner.”

“I dunno. Weren’t here when I got back and haven’t been here since.”

“Curious”, I found.

“Right. Did something happen in Hogsmeade that would make them late?” Ah. The troublemakers.

“We ran into the Potter-posse. And by that I mean that Nica spotted Potter and orchestrated a situation in which she could put her Quidditch conversation plan in motion. When I left, Milla and Blair were going to wait for her in the Broomsticks with Remus, Pettigrew and Black.”

“Ah. Sounds like those troublemakers may delay them.” Great minds think alike.

“You’re not going to dinner, then”, I stated while putting my hair back into the topbun. “Nah… sorry.”

“No need”, I said again, checked my lipstick and repacked my bagpack. Clipboard, large bottle to be filled with coffee, my herbology homework, my trusty silver case of cigarettes, the zippo, an extra jumper and my robes.

I told Chloe I would let her know whether I got the eighth and ninth floor by knocking SOS on the planetarium door and left the dorm. My girls were neither in the common room nor in the Great Hall and it was already seven o’clock.

I sat with Joe and the Quidditch team and made a mental note to tell Chloe that she owed me a galleon since Joe was absolutely fine and not out cold for three days.  Sian was going on about the significance of the match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw as the first match of the season in her infectious enthusiasm which made my dinner quite enjoyable despite being abandoned by all my friends.

I lingered in the Great Hall after I had finished eating but at quarter past eight none of my girls had shown, the dinner officially ended and I was expected in the prefects’ hallway at eight thirty anyways. Very confused and extremely curious I made my way to the fourth floor.

We sat in the conference room and waited for the Campbell siblings to arrive. Bonnie was the sixth year Hufflepuff prefect and her brother Hector was Headboy for Gryffindor. When Lily Evans had come she’d said that she passed them and they seemed to be discussing Christmas plans. They should come shortly.

Apart from them we also still missed the two teachers who were supposed to do the night rounds with us. When nobody showed up five minutes after the official start of our meeting Lily stood up: “Any preferences?” My hand shot into the air. Lily laughed.

“Yes, Jette?”

“Would it be alright if I took the ninth? I’ve been stuck downstairs the last few rounds and I like the view.”

“Fine by me”, said Jeffrey Snyder. Then he looked around. “Why not let the fifth take the upper floors?”, he suggested. I looked at Jasper and Annemarie from Ravenclaw and the surprisingly pleasant Henry from Slytherin who all were in my year. None of them found anything wrong with the suggestion and Lily quickly put our names on the simple list.

Jasper would be rounding the eighth floor which meant that he would probably ask me to hang out together either on his or my floor after about two hours into curfew. That’s how most of us did it. Especially on the floors that had no common rooms.

As if he had read my thoughts Jasper leaned over: “I got playing cards and Chocolate frogs.”

“Raise you coffee and two mugs”, I whispered back.

“Midnight at mine?”

“Sure thing.” That gave me more than enough time to warn Chloe and get my herbology homework done.

The sixth years had decided to draw straws on who had to take the first floor – which was closest to Filch on the ground level. But before they got to it the door flew open and the Campbells rushed in before McGonnagal.

“Sorry, we’re late”, Bonnie apologised a little out of breath.

“I’m afraid Professor Slughorn will be held up a while. I will patrol the dungeons and go up to the fifth floor, once he can relieve me. Would the fourth and sixth floor make sure to check on the fifth as long as I’m gone?” McGonnagal spoke very calmly but she had an air of fury around her. Her question was answered by affirmative mumbling.

Bonnie tapped me on the shoulder. “Mulciber and Black got into it again.” My eyes widened but she went to draw her straw.

When the the nightshift was fully organised and we were told to go to our floors, I held Bonnie back.

“What do you mean, they got into it again?”

“Well, they argued, then they yelled and in the end they hexed each other. Hector and I were just around the corner but we were to wrapped up in arguing about where we wanna go for Christmas – mum or dad – to notice in time. At some point they shouted and some other students screamed and that’s when we ran over. But McGonnagal and Slughorn were already there.” She bit her lip. “It didn’t end as well, as when you were there. Black’s got a really nasty slash on his cheek and I’m pretty sure that Mulciber has bunny ears now. You should’ve seen McGonnagal, man, she was furious. Slughorn, too. I’ve never seen him angry before. But, man, was he angry.

They’re at Dumbledore’s now.” In the annoying buzzing room, I guessed. Bonnie rushed off to her floor and I also climbed the stairs internally cursing younger Black for entertaining Mulciber’s need for attention and aggression. If he could just ignore the idiot. Though, I had to admit that it was really hard to not want to punch his stupid chicken-like face. I just hoped the slash wasn’t too nasty and that Mulciber got another round of really bad detention. I wanted him to get expelled but I knew that that wouldn’t happen.

Climbing staircase after staircase I came up with a couple of pretty good detentions tasks, that I should probably suggest to Dumbledore just in case Mulciber danced out of line again. A little out of breath I reached the ninth floor, went to the planetarium and knocked three times long, three times short, three times long which earned me a giggled: “Thanks, Jette! You’re the best!”

In order to not hear anything I neither was supposed to nor wanted to hear I decided to find an empty classroom on the other side of the floor and once I did so I got comfortable and started my exciting essay on the oh so fascinating flitterbrick-nodules.

#marauders fanfiction #marauders era #harry potter #james potter #remus lupin #sirius black #peter pettigrew

[chaldeluxe]

LONDON: CHAPTER 5.

____________

Andersen: Hoh. Not bad for a hideaway. I like it. I’ll take the study.

Andersen: I’ll be unpacking, so call me if you need something. Ah, and if you’re entering, be sure to knock.

Mordred: ... Ahh, I’m exhausted. Twice as much thanks to the luggage. Three times, even!

Jekyll: You’re treating my sofa so roughly again… if possible, I’d like it to be a guest-only… … no, nevermind.

Jekyll: It’s fine as is. Listen closely, Mashu and Gudako.

Jekyll: Jack the Ripper appeared again. Only this time it wasn’t to murder a woman under the cover of the fog.

Jekyll: They’ve got Scotland Yard under siege. I’ve received telegraphs for reinforcements from police stations all over London.

Mordred: That bastard’s finally shown up again!

[CHOICE]

1. Is that some kind of fated encounter for you? 2. An acquaintance of yours?

Mordred: Yeah. They’re a Servant. Assassin Class. We fought a lot in the fog, but…

Mordred: Every time they get away. I can’t lock ‘em down. They just escape into the fog!

Mordred: That and I can’t remember a single concrete detail about them. Not their face, or form, or even their abilities. It’s frustrating as hell… !

Mordred: Best I can do is nod my head whenever I hear the name Jack the Ripper like, ooh yeah, that Assassin!

Mordred: Damn. My head’s all fuzzy just thinking about that asshole!

Jekyll: You two might’ve run into them as well. What do you think? Do you recall fighting an Assassin?

Mashu: Ah…

Mashu: Now that you mention it… it sort of feels like we did. A surprise attack... by...

Mashu: That’s right… we got ambushed. My memories are suddenly coming back to me.

Mashu: I almost forgot everything. But, there has to be some reason for what happened...

[CHOICE]

1. A skill? 2. A Noble Phantasm?

Mashu: Yes, Senpai. That must be it. I wonder which one it was, though? A skill or Noble Phantasm.

Mordred: That one’s quick to run. If we don’t get moving, they’ll have cleared out already. Let’s go!

Andersen: What, you’re leaving? You should’ve said something. If you’re going out, let’s see... I’ll take a scone, then.

Mordred: Like hell you're going! Well, not like you’d be useful if you did…

Mordred: … hold up. You think we’ll have as easy of a time as before?

Andersen: That was an phenomenal exception. Don’t go depending on me for everything. And just what are you looking to get out of us authors, truly?

Andersen: Do you think of me as some all-knowing being? If so, you’d best reconsider.

Andersen: Listen up. Authors are just morons whose words run off the page simply because they couldn’t get anything in life!

Andersen: Do you think someone like that could ever be useful?

Mordred: … I was stupid for even asking. Let’s get moving, Mashu, Gudako!

// SHIFT TO OUTSIDE. //

Mordred: Full speed ahead to our destination. Mashu, carry Gudako. It’s a race against the clock.

Mordred: There’s no way a human can keep up. We’ll head straight for the Yard with pure Servant sprinting power.

Mashu: R-Right …excuse me, Senpai. It’s just for a little while.

[CHOICE]

1. Try not to drop me. 2. Likewise. Sorry for this.

Mashu: O-Okay.

Mashu: …I’ll be as careful as possible. Be sure not to let go of me, Senpai.

Mordred: Hey, get movi--- tch. Soon as I say it, there's enemies at our flanks!

Dr. Roman: Huge enemy readings. They’re closing in from all directions. Break through before they surround you!

// BATTLE. //

Mordred: We almost crushed ‘em all! Forget the rest. We’re making a run for it, Mashu!

Mashu: Right!

Dr. Roman: She sure is full of moxie. I guess they don’t call her the Knight of Treachery for nothing.

Mashu: That’s right. That combat efficiency is straight out of the legend.

Mashu: As swift and accurate as a bolt of lightning across the sky, the point of her sword never wavers.

[CHOICE]

1. Knight of Treachery? 2. You mean Mordred?

Dr. Roman: Ah, that reminds me--- no one said anything to you, did they, Gudako-chan?

Dr. Roman: The Knight of Treachery, Mordred. A Heroic Spirit manifested in this world under the Saber class.

Dr. Roman: He’s[1] not from this era, of course. His origins lie in the 5th-6th century with the legend of King Arthur.

Dr. Roman: The individual who brought about the end of an era. The one person who literally staged a rebellion against King Arthur.

Mashu: And it was by all means an exceptional rebellion. It was the first time someone had ever rallied together anti-Arthur forces made up of their foreign enemies.

Mashu: In order words, Mordred stood alone as the King of Treachery. If times had been more peaceful, perhaps she might’ve even succeeded the King.

Mashu: There are countless legends about Mordred’s bravery as well. As one of the Knights of the Round---

Dr. Roman: They called him the son of King Arthur. Only they also said the King never properly acknowledged his child.

Dr. Roman: That may be the reason why he changed their mind about the rebellion. So why did Mordred still defy King Arthur at every turn?

Dr. Roman: I suppose only he--- she[1], would know the real reason why.

[CHOICE]

1. The rebellion succeeded? 2. The rebellion was a failure?

Mashu: … yes. The knight Mordred lost her life during the Battle of Camlann.

Mashu: In reality, it was more of a tie. She wielded the Demonic Sword Clarent against King Arthur in battle.

Mashu: King Arthur fought with his holy lance and pierced the traitor.

Mashu: The king himself had also fallen, mortally wounded when---

Mordred: What’re you blabbing about over there!? Get moving already!

Mashu: Ah, r-right!

[CHOICE]

1. Let’s go!

Mashu: …Roger, Master!

// BATTLE. //

Mordred: They’re closing in from the side, one after the other!

Mordred: Pick up the pace again, Mashu!

Mashu: Okay… !

Dr. Roman: Sorry to interrupt while you’re en-route. I’ve got a hot report straight from Da Vinci-chan!

Dr. Roman: It’s about those huge, armored, mysterious robots. I’ll be reporting the results of our findings concerning the Helter Skelters.  

Dr. Roman: It’s as accurate as we can be while still analyzing, but here’s what I’ve got, based on the preliminaries.

Dr. Roman: First of all, they’re not golems. Traces of magical mechanisms can’t be confirmed with video evidence.

Dr. Roman: Though they’re purely mechanical… there’s still a lot I don’t get. It seems like they’re running on steam engines. Any other details are unknown.

Dr. Roman: It seems like technology you’d find in our time, the year 2017.

Dr. Roman: Made with some kind of hidden or long-lost technique---

Dr. Roman: Almost like they made rapid progress with their super technology by taking a different path from our world.

Dr. Roman: … ...yep.

Dr. Roman: … well, of course. Of course you wouldn’t answer, ‘cause you’re busy running and stuff…

Dr. Roman: That’s enough out of me. Do your best out there!

// BATTLE. //

Jack the Ripper: … ....huh?

Jack the Ripper: So you came from that direction. Then, hehe, we’ll… What should we do with you?

Jack the Ripper: Should we kill you? One, two, three. So many. A whole lot.

Jack the Ripper: Hehe. We already killed a whole bunch, but we’re still hungry. Starving.

Jack the Ripper: All ‘cause Mr. Policeman didn’t have much magical energy.

Jack the Ripper: So, thank you! We’ll eat your magical energy up and be full!

Mordred: We made it---

Mordred: Or not, it looks like. The smell of blood… so the Yard’s been wiped out.

Dr. Roman: I’m detecting two other signatures besides you guys. Jack the Ripper and one other.

Mashu: I can guess pretty well who the unknown Servant is. That man over there---

(???): Yes. I just so happen to be a Caster Servant. One of the three pulling the strings of that “Project”.

[CHOICE]

1. The Demon Fog Project? 2. Why’re you doing this?

(???): We have several of our own conditions and circumstances. You may call me “P”, if you wish.

P: I’m afraid you were just a tad too late. The poor Scotland Yard has already been annihilated.

P: They all died in such horrid, gruesome ways. For you see, that child hasn’t an ounce of compassion in her heart.

P: It was all necessary, however. An unavoidable sacrifice. It almost seems a tribute to the fallen when you say express it in such a way.

P: Truly, man is a creature who ought to be adored. Both love and affection are such dazzling things.

P: How sad, that the cause sometimes takes precedence.

P: Something we required was tucked safely away in Scotland Yard’s headquarters.

P: As one would expect, the Mage’s Association, Clock Tower, reside in the British Empire. They applied a strong magical seal to the place.

P: Thus they, while unfortunate, ended up posing a grand obstacle to our cause.

Mordred: What's with this blowhard. Who gives a damn about love or affection!

Mordred: You went and put your hand on what’s mine again. You, who are not the king, have touched that which belongs to the king.

[CHOICE]

1. You killed innocent people despite being a Heroic Spirit? 2. Don’t you have any pride as a hero!?

P: Indeed. And that is why I cannot show any sadness.

P: Those bound to hope should be noble. Those bound to love should be brilliant.

P: I’m not likely to save them with this paltry power of mine. That alone should be clear when you consider the aforementioned outcome.

P: This era will fall to ruin. Even humanity itself will fall to ruin.

P: Annihilate desires, love, humanity’s progression, and only four idiosyncrasies will remain in this left behind world.

P: What a miserable outcome it’ll be. But neither you nor I can stop it.

P: No. If you’re unable to stop it, that is---

Mashu: … you’re contradicting yourself.

Mashu: I feel a deep discrepancy in those words of yours, Caster. No, P. Who are you, really?

Mashu: You’re using Jack just to take human lives. It sounds to me like you’re the one who lacks an ounce of compassion.

P: That may very well be true, beautiful young lady.

P: I’m nothing more than a wicked magus in the end, it seems. Even now, I command an innocent girl.

P: Jack. I’ll leave the rest to you.

P: Do as you like. That girl may even be your Mother, you know.

Jack: Eh? Is that… true. ?

Jack: So that’s how it is. Hmm. Then… we’ll treat you just like our own Mother.

Jack: Will you let us go back? Deep, deep inside of you… inside Mother…

Mordred: Forget it. You’re going straight back to the Throne. Here’s where you die.

Mashu: We need to think of a way to stop Assassin in her tracks. ...Senpai…

[CHOICE]

1. We’ve got to stop her. 2. Let’s start this.

Mashu: ---OK! Master!

// BATTLE. //

Jack: Mo… ther…. no…. no, no, no… it, hurts…

Jack: Why… why did you…

Jack: … why, did… tell me... hey… …?

P: Farewell, child who knows naught of love. One day, you’ll obtain the affection you seek.

P: ---now, then. I suppose this is where I die, felled by your hand.

P: The cold-blooded magus is defeated by the hero. Therein lies the sole answer I seek.

P: But. I must carry out my role first.

P: Farewell, you heroes who walk on a radiant path. And you, Knight of the Round---

P: I pray for your continued existence as a champion of justice who strikes down treachery.

Mordred: Wait! Shit, he vanished! Magi always do this!

Mashu: Spatial Transportation--- that’s the spell that let him be forcibly removed.

Mashu: It was originally a form of magecraft that could hold a candle to True Magic. Using it like that... it’s very possible that a Holy Grail is…

Dr. Roman: It’s very likely. At least for the sole mastermind who’s behind the “Demon Fog Project” that’s trying to destroy this era.

Dr. Roman: Otherwise, it’s possible that possession of the Holy Grail was transferred to him.

Dr. Roman: I wonder what his true purpose in London is…

Mordred: I could care less. All we’ve gotta do is flush him out and flatten him!

// TO THE LEAGUE OF GENIUSES. //

P: … I’ve returned safely.

B: Psssh… kohh…

M: Good work. …that girl was defeated, then?

P: She died, unfortunately. We've suffered a sequence of failure since Mephistopheles’ loss.

M: It won’t affect that much. All we need to focus on is carrying out the “Project”.

P: Yes. I suppose so. You’re right. We three are Servants. All we need do is follow the whims of our Master.

P: There’s no need to wallow in regret. You should be moving forward with your own “Project”, yes?

M: …I know.

B: Creating a path for this world and its civilization--- therein lies the greatest mission for we wise scholars.

B: If this world were incinerated, both humanity and civilization itself would be well on its way to that established point of demise.

B: We would no longer be---

[1] Roman only uses カレ and 彼 (kare, katakana then kanji, he/him) in reference to Mordred when he gets carried away talking about the legend here. Mashu doesn’t do that in that segment. Once Roman catches himself, he corrects himself to 彼女 (kanojo, she/her) which is also what Mashu and everyone else uses for Mordred usually.

It’s difficult to put in English because in Japanese pronouns aren’t necessarily required when referring to someone and Mashu isn’t using any during the exposition. It’s only supposed to be Roman, so the official translation probably missed the context and falsely had Mashu use he/him too while explaining Mordred’s legend.

Editor V note: Since it’s a topic in tandem, everyone uses kanojo for Mordred and usually she doesn’t slice their throats open so she doesn’t care about pronouns. Just don’t call her or treat her explicitly like a man or a woman. That’s why she threatened Jekyll in the other chapter.

#fgo #fate grand order #mordred #click for more Fun Mordred Trivia #story: london

[once-a-turncoat]

Shinsenvember 17 - Tenchu!

Prompt list here.

Shimonoseki, anonymous early Meiji era photograph from the Bauduin collection.

Dusk. A lonely beach along the Shimonoseki Strait. A small group of armed men slowly made their way across the pebbles and sand to where a lone figure was standing, watching the tide come in. It was not a quiet advance – their quarry had certainly heard them. But he paid them no heed. He was a brave man, and a proud one.

“Takasugi Shinsaku!” one of them called out.

At last, the man turned to face his pursuers. “Yes?”

Their leader took a step forward. “You must know why we are here.”

Takasugi’s mouth curved into an ugly smile. “I have a good idea.”

“You have deceived your lord, betrayed your fellow warriors, and at last given over this country to the barbarians. No punishment on earth can wipe away the stain of your sins.” The man spoke slowly and solemnly, delivering what was clearly a heavily-rehearsed speech. “We true loyalists to the Chrysanthemum Throne shall now exact Divine Punish-“

There was a flash of silver. A tall dark figure with flowing long hair had moved in so quickly he appeared to have materialized out of thin air, and the true loyalist was discovering the impossibility of speaking with the barrel of a pistol in his mouth.

“I’m here to exact Hell’s Punishment!” the newcomer announced. His victim had frozen still. The other men fell back a few steps.

“Shiranui Kyou!” one of them gasped.

“Hey, I saved your sorry ass in Kyoto!” Shiranui called out to the man who’d spoken. “Guess I won’t make that mistake again. Well, Takasugi-kun, is there any reason I shouldn’t blow this coward’s brains out?” He gestured to the man at the other end of his gun.

“We’ve already lost enough fighters,” Takasugi replied. “Let him live. If he chooses to.”

Shiranui shrugged, then withdrawing his pistol from the man’s bleeding mouth, picked him up by the collar of his kimono and held him dangling above the sand. “What do you choose?”

“D-don’t – ack – LIFE!”

Shiranui threw the man to the ground. “How about the rest of you?” he asked. “Anyone want to go a round against my gun?”

“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO FIGHT THE BARBARIANS, NOT SURRENDER TO THEM!” one of the men cried out.  

Takasugi began to laugh. “Do you think I don’t know that?” he asked. “We bought this war, we bound ourselves to fight it.”

“But you-“

“Who are you to order me around?” Takasugi demanded. “Most of you aren’t even Choshu men. You came running to us with your tails between your legs, and this is how you treat an official envoy of the House of Mori? You know I was carrying out my lord’s orders to make peace. And if you weren’t idiots, you’d also know we need more guns, ships, and trained troops to fight off the barbarians.”

There was a long silence. Some of the men glared at Takasugi, but most eyes were on Shiranui’s gun. They weren’t actually cowards.  With an ordinary opponent, they would have fought back. But they’d seen Shiranui in action before.

“I’m letting you go,” Takasugi said at last. “You have ten seconds to get out of here.”

The men scrambled up the beach as fast as their legs could take them. Shiranui left off counting the seconds at seven and began shooting.

“Stop wasting our bullets,” said Takasugi when Shiranui paused a second to reload his pistol. Shiranui’s shots had all “missed” the fleeing men by very narrow margins.

“Stop complaining, shrimp. You don’t get to tell me how to save your life.”

“I did tell you how to save my life. Have you already forgotten this was my plan?”

“You can see I improved it.”

Takasugi grinned. “You’d better wash the slobber off my poor pistol.”

“Don’t doubt me. This gun’s the love of my life.”

“Well if you can’t get the girls . . .”

They settled into their usual comfortable banter as they began their long walk back towards the town.

Author’s Notes: This one wasn’t about the Shinsengumi at all. I actually meant to write about the Shinsengumi’s pov on something else, got completely sucked down the research rabbit hole, and at last realized I had to put the idea aside until I learnt more. The original idea may one day be a full-length fic.

So, Tenchu = “divine punishment”. It was the word used by the Sonnou Joui patriots for their assassinations. In a weird twist of fate, some of the Choshu shishi went from planning/supporting tenchu killings to having to evade them.  

The specific context of this ficlet. In 1863, Choshu domain fired on foreign ships using the Shimonoseki strait. In 1864, a French-British-Dutch-American navy coalition easily destroyed and dismantled Choshu’s coastal fortifications and batteries, and Choshu had no choice but to sue for peace. The domain appointed Takasugi Shinsaku to lead the peace negotiations. As a military commander, he wasn’t happy about the job. He complained that although they’d been stupid to start such an unwinnable war, they were now committed to it, and should continue to fight. The Choshu domain elders ignored his opinion, and at last he agreed to obey his orders. (You can read all about the hilarious negotiations here.)

As a result, he and his companions were immediately targeted for assassination by radical members of the Choshu militia. As mentioned in the fic, a lot of the militia members were ronin from other domains, whom the Choshu officials struggled to control. Takasugi escaped a threatened attack. However, the negotiators’ English-Japanese interpreter, Inoue Kaoru, was ambushed and nearly cut to pieces by angry samurai. Unexpectedly, Inoue survived his wounds, became an influential Meiji statesman and lived till 1915.

In real life, Takasugi bought a pair of Smith and Wesson pistols in Shanghai, one of which he gave to Sakamoto Ryoma as a present. In Hakuouki, it can be guessed that Takasugi is the source of Shiranui’s pistol. (Completely incidentally, but I’ve just always found this interesting:  in fiction, Sakamoto is usually portrayed with his pistol years before Takasugi actually gave it to him. Takasugi gave Sakamoto the pistol mid 1866 during the Second Choshu Expedition/Summer War ie. The year before they both died.) 

#shinsenvember #hakuouki #no shinsengumi content at all in this #it *is* Hakuouki though #with a certain oni