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gifted-burnout-archive · 4 years

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The Other Side of Hollywood

Part Four

Word Count: 6.3K+

Author’s Note: It’s the end of episode seven! The chemistry is real, the stakes are high, the secrets are being revealed. I went straight from writing Part Three into writing this, and I have a feeling I’ll start writing the next part immediately...

Thank you for reading the nonsense I write.

Warning: our ghoul bois get sad...

Part One here, Two here, and Three here. Masterlist here. Boom, let’s get into it.

Y/N had spent almost all of her afterlife surrounded by grown-ups. It was by chance, of course, that she was the youngest one at the Hollywood Ghost Club, but until Willie showed up about ten years before, that’s just how it was. And while every night at the HGC was a party…

There was nothing quite like a high-school house party.

The fact was Y/N was meant to be somewhere else. She was scheduled for bar duty that night at the club, but with a note on her room door reading she felt unwell and already asking someone to cover her shift that evening, she had the chance to venture out into the world beyond, to forget what had happened after Luke left the club… The jolts, the yelling, the feeling that her stomach was on fire and burning her from the inside.

So, in keeping with what she could vaguely remember about the high school parties she attended in the 90s, she did her best to dress up: she ditched her scruffy band tees and torn up shorts for a knee length black dress she had found about 20 odd years ago. She had discovered it in the costume department’s back corners, falling in love with the camisole top with the lace border and the flowing skirt with pockets from the moment she set eyes on it. Caleb had told her to take it, keep it for herself, and after a few good washes and alterations, it fit her like a glove… Then she didn’t have anywhere to wear it for two decades.

She had rummaged through her cupboards and found a nice pair of heeled combat boots to match, and with and box of treats for the boys she had swiped earlier that evening under her arm, one last check in the mirror and a final application of a vintage pink lipstick, she poofed out her room to the address Luke had given her, which she had transferred to a post-it note once she was alone, the ink on her arm already fading.

She landed with a thud of her heavy boots a second later, her carpet having shifted to what Y/N could only assume was Julie’s patio. She did a 360, quickly figuring out where she was: a fence to her left, trees to her right and a garden gate behind her, Y/N opted to go forward, heading in the direction of chatter and multi-coloured string lights.

There wasn’t much Y/N could remember about her life on earth, and what she did was pretty miserable: however, walking into the party gave her a strange sense of nostalgia, of déjà vu. She slipped her way through the crowds, for a moment forgetting no-one could see her, setting down the bag of goodies she had brought by the doors of the garage, which upon a second glance looked more like a studio from what little she could make out through the windows. She watched as kids, no doubt from Julie’s high school, milled around and chattered together, talking about school work and how glad they were that Friday had come around at last, how excited they were to see the band play. She couldn’t join in on anything, she knew that, but it didn’t bother her, and Y/N found herself a comfortable spot on the garden’s back wall, her legs swinging as she watched the world go by.

“What are you doing here?” A voice caught Y/N’s attention, looking forward and to her right to find the voice linked a handsome blonde haired boy, who looked rather displeased with a girl that she recognised: the girl from the pop group the other night at the bar.

“Julie is one of my oldest friends, Nick.” She snapped back. “I’m sure she just forgot to invite me.” She folded her arms, and the poor kid beside her sighed.

“Look, we’re not getting back together, Carrie.” He said with a deadpan voice, and Y/N couldn’t help but lean closer.

“I’ve heard that before…” Carrie replied back with a smirk, turning her attention back to the stage. “Something doesn’t add up about those holograms.” She pondered, placing a manicured hand on Nick’s lapel. “I wouldn’t trust her, if I were you.” She added, the conversation ended as a familiar face appeared nearby, Flynn boosting herself up onto the wall, her foot going into Y/N’s leg as she turned around, microphone in one hand and an odd looking box in the other. She set down the latter object pointed for the stage, and quickly connected it to some sort of plug.

“What’s up everybody?” Flynn asked, Y/N scooting along the wall a little to stop Flynn from stepping into her again. “Time to put your hands up, do a little dance, yup, here’s the new anthem from Julie and the Phantoms.” Flynn announced, jumping off the wall and running to the front of the crowd as two kids no more than 12, who Y/N speculated were Julie’s younger brother and friend, opening the studio doors that had been decorated with papier mâché to reveal Julie.

The sight of the girl, covered in butterflies and smiling so bright, brought an ache to Y/N’s heart, though she didn’t know why. It was one of fondness, watching the girl walk to the piano with a shy wave to the crowd of her peers almost had Y/N feeling proud.

“Thanks for coming everyone.” She said as she sat down, taking a nervous breath, and scanning the crowd to lock eyes on Flynn, and then, further back, Y/N. Julie smiled at her, prompting Y/N to smile back and hold her thumbs up in support. Another breath, and Julie began the song.

“Running through the past, tripping on the now. What is lost can be found, it’s obvious…” Whoops and cheers emerged from the crowd as Julie began to sing. “And like a rubber ball, we come bouncing back, we all got a second act, inside of us.” The machine just above Y/N whirred into life suddenly, and out of thin air, the band appeared behind Julie, causing the audience to gasp and cheer while Y/N just smiled wider.

“I believe, I believe that we’re just one dream away from who we’re meant to be, that we’re standing on the edge of…” Julie’s voice was unequivocally unique, the sort of sound you found once in a generation. And with the boys behind her, Y/N was confident in the conclusion she had come to the night before: they were the best band she had ever seen. “Something big, something crazy our best is yet unknown, that this moment is ours to own, cause we’re standing on the edge of great!” The boys came in, providing an echo of the chorus’ tagline as Julie belted some beautiful high notes.

It was in this section of the song that Luke’s eyes finally moved from his band mates and onto the crowd, scanning over the audience and just soaking in their reaction. On that stage, he felt alive, free, and undoubtedly happy: in fact, it’s how he felt whenever he managed to get his hands on a guitar, when he got to play, when he wrote music.

And as his eyes landed on a certain girl in black at the back of the crowd, he realised it’s how he felt when he was with her, as well.

“Yeah, we all make mistakes, but they’re just stepping stones to take us where we wanna go, it’s never straight no…” Luke sang, his eyes focused in on a spot in the back of the room no-one in the audience could see: but his bandmates could. Julie quickly noticed where Luke’s eyes had landed and grinned at Reggie, who raised a brow before he glanced between Luke and his point of fixation, a smile on his face. Alex caught on pretty quickly from his raised vantage point.

“Sometimes we gotta lean, lean on someone else to get a little help until we find a way.” With a quick nod, Luke passed the melody to Julie and took the harmony line, rolling his eyes at the stupid grins his bandmates had. They had noticed who he was looking at. “I believe, I believe that we’re just one dream away from who we’re meant to be, that we’re standing on the edge of something big, something crazy, our best is yet unknown, that this moment is ours to own, cause we’re standing on the edge of great!” Julie came out to the crowd, singing a portion of the song to Flynn in front, even taking the chance to wave at Nick, which more than ticked off Carrie from Y/N’s point of view. As they finished the chorus, Y/N found herself needing to be closer, and pushed herself off the wall, walking through the crowd and stopping in the front, her arms folded and a smirk on her face as she lifted a hand to wave her fingers in hello to Reggie, who had to gulp in response.

“Shout, shout! Come on and let it out, out! Don’t gotta hide it. Let your colours blind their eyes, be who you are, don’t compromise.” Julie climbed up the piano as she sang and sat herself on the top, throwing her head back as she sang in a way that had the déjà vu hitting Y/N all over again. “Just shout, shout! Come on and let it out, out! What doesn’t kill you makes you feel alive… Oh, I believe.” Julie sang, Luke stepping forward towards her, playing a guitar solo underneath her. “I believe that we’re just one dream away from who we’re meant to be,” The pair shared a smile as Luke free-styled alongside her. “That we’re standing on the edge of great!” Julie stood up as she held the high note, throwing her arms out and giving it everything she had, to the applause and cheering of the crowd as the boys sang the rest of the chorus behind her.

“We’re standing on the edge of great, on the edge of great. Great, on the edge of great. Great, on the edge of great.” The boys sang along as Julie re-joined them, Luke’s eyes finding Y/N’s once more and a dopey smile came on his face. As the chorus came to an end, Alex and Reggie vanished into thin air, and Luke swung his guitar behind him, grabbing his mic off its stand as Julie sat back at the piano, the pair singing the outro together.

“Running through the past,” Luke sang, walking to the front of their stage, coming face to face with Y/N. “Tripping on the now… What is lost can be found, it’s obvious.” He sang softly to her, winking in the second before he disappeared, a group of girls right behind Y/N bursting into a fit of giggles while the true receiver of Luke’s affection stood rather breathless in front of them, practically glowing under the string lights.

After the performance had finished, Flynn taking control as DJ for the rest of the night, Julie was quick to push her mother’s piano back into the studio with the assistance of her dad and Nick, and then close over and lock the doors to stop anyone wandering in before joining her guests. The doors closing and the turn of the lock was the signal the guys needed to relax after a performance well done, all three collapsing onto chairs around the room with happy sighs, the sounds of the party continuing muted by the thick oak doors.

Before any of them could say a word, a hand appeared through the wood and chapped on the door’s inside, the stamp on her wrist making it clear who had arrived.

“Come in!” Reggie yelled, swiftly receiving a punch from Luke who scrambled to pull off his beanie and run a hand through his mess of waves. Just as he stood up, Y/N walked through the door, a smile on her face and a box under her arm.

“You guys…” She started, shaking her head. “I am amazed every single time.” She admitted, setting the box down on the coffee table, only to be met with silence, no-one quite sure who was meant to speak first. “Open it. Please.” She urged, Alex flipping the top off the box to reveal a selection of delicacies from the club: burgers, pizza, meatball subs, and a half of a chocolate fudge cake.

“Keep her.” Alex ordered Luke, his eyes not looking up as he reached for a burger. “She remembered to take off the cheese.” He added with a grin, digging into the burger. Reggie looked into the box, picking up one of the meatball subs, and with a quick glance to Y/N to make sure he was good to help himself, Reggie sat beside Alex and let himself dig in.

“I… I didn’t think you would make it. Shouldn’t you be at the club?” Luke asked, having to clear his throat to stop his voice cracking. He kept his eyes on hers, though his peripheral could gauge how gorgeous she looked in the dress. “Do they know you brought the food?”

“I’m already dead, there’s not much Caleb can do to reprimand me now.” She said with a shrug. “Plus, it’s not my first time sneaking out. I mean, it’s been a quarter of a century, but it’s like riding a bike: never leaves you.” Y/N assured with a smile, Luke smiling right back and holding out his hand. She took it, letting him lead her to the couch as her eyes took in the space the boys seemed to call home, her smile only getting wider.

“So, uh, proper introductions, right?” Luke suggested. “Guys, this is Y/N. Y/N, Alex and Reggie.” He gestured to his two closest friends as he spoke, both of whom were stuffing their faces with the food Y/N had brought along. Alex was first to clear his mouth of food, swallowing his bite of pizza and sending a nod her way.

“It’s nice to meet you again. You’ve certainly got Luke smitten…” The comment earned a pillow to the face, Y/N and Reggie laughing simultaneously. “I just mean! I just mean he’s got good taste, usually. It’ll be nice to get to know you.” Alex defended himself, and Y/N felt the blush rise on her cheeks.

“There’s not much to know, but I can answer any questions you’ve got.” She glanced back at Luke, who quickly shook his head at the boys behind her.

“You’ve opened the flood gates now Y/N…” He muttered, throwing an arm across the back of the couch, his fingers brushing against her shoulder. “Best get comfy.”

“Ok, ok.” Reggie asked through a bite of fudge cake an hour later, the rest of the room recovering from a laughing fit after Alex’s recounting of a story from when the guys were all kids that involved a play park slide, a frog and Luke’s parents finding said frog in their toilet later that night. They were asking questions back and forth, Y/N asking the guys a question before they asked her one back. It had been on plenty of tangents, but Reggie seemed to have a list of questions lined up, and with Luke’s thigh as her pillow as she lay on the couch, Y/N felt more than happy to comply and answer. She had spent most of the hour in the position, save from when Luke jumped up to fetch her his song writing journal, which currently lay on her chest. “Favourite song from the collection.” Reggie asked, and she glanced back up at Luke before smiling.

“I’m a sucker for a sad song… Unsaid Emily.” She answered, and Reggie nodded in approval, sharing a look with Luke that Y/N couldn’t quite decipher.

“Ok, most hated artist. Before or after death.” Alex asked, stretching out with a hand resting on his stomach. Most of the box’s contents were gone.

“Easy. Trevor Wilson.” She answered, causing the three guys to look over in shock. “I mean, the lyrics are exquisite… But he’s a horrible person, I could never support him as an artist, alive or dead.” She explained, and the guys shared a laugh, Luke taking one of her hands in his and threading their fingers together.

A knock on the door sent four pairs of eyes across the room, and it was quickly followed the door opening and Julie slipping into the studio, beaming from ear to ear. The music outside had quietened down, and with Julie’s arrival it seemed like the party might be coming to a close.

“We haven’t really met yet.” Y/N said quickly to refrain from an awkward silence settling. She sat up quickly from her position, Luke unlinking their hand to make it a little easier on her. “I’m Y/N.”

“Julie. Nice to properly meet you. And thank you, for coming along tonight. Certainly put Luke in better spirits.” Julie took a seat herself, her eyes stopping on Reggie as he took another bite of cake. “Ghost food?” She guessed, and was met by four nodding heads.

“I don’t know if Luke ever passed on my compliments from last night, but you guys are amazing.” Y/N offered, and Julie sank into the chair with a smile on her face, not quite listening to whatever had been said.

“Don’t mind Julie… She’s in her own world.” Luke said with a smile, and Y/N nodded.

“Oh, I know the look of a lovestruck girl when I see it.” She bit her lip, taking a moment. “I’m going to guess… The blonde kid who helped with the piano?”

“Nick.” The boys said in unison, and Julie sat up straight at the sound.

“Hey!” She pouted, but it didn’t stay long. “Ok, so, he may have… Kissed me goodnight?” She squealed, and Y/N let out a gasp of excitement, leaning forward to listen more as the guys shared glances, not sure whether to be happy or concerned: Julie was their friend, and the past few weeks the guys had become rather protective of her.

“Cheek, lips?” Y/N asked, and Julie blushed.

“Cheek… But after we danced together today at school…” Julie’s shoulders came up to her ears and she let out a happy sigh.

“Oh, he’s just waiting to ask you out.” Y/N concluded, and the three guys sent her a look, almost warning her not to tempt Julie. “What? The girl’s got a crush, leave her be. She wouldn’t stop any of you.” Y/N defended, glancing back at Luke with a cheeky grin.

Luke couldn’t help smiling back: God, she was beautiful.

“Have you told the one with the immaculate fashion sense yet?” Y/N asked, snapping her fingers as she tried to remember the name.

“Flynn?” Julie suggested, and Y/N nodded, sitting back against Luke, much to the boy’s delight.

“Exactly.”

“What about me?” The voice that came from the door was the girl in question, Flynn quickly shutting the door behind her and coming over to hug Julie from the back. She still wasn’t quite used to her best friend talking to thin air, but it was getting a little more normal. “Where can I sit?” She asked, glancing around the vacant couch and chairs, knowing the boys were sitting somewhere.

“Just here.” Julie pointed to a vacant chair. “Y/N was just complimenting your fashion sense.” Julie explained, gesturing to the air.

“Y/N? The girl from last night? The one you could see?” Flynn asked, waving at the spot Julie had just picked out. “Sorry, hi. I’m Flynn.” She said, and Y/N couldn’t help the smile on her face. If only she had been friends with these two in high school…

“That’s the one.” Julie nodded, and she paused for a moment, listening to someone Flynn couldn’t see. “And according to Reggie, you stood in her earlier.” Julie informed, earning a giggle from Flynn.

“I… Nope, this is weird.” Flynn sighed, standing up and beginning to pace, and Julie stood up in response, worried. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry… It’s just. It’s weird not seeing, or hearing them…” Flynn admitted, and Julie nodded in understanding, placing her hands on Flynn’s shoulders to stop the pacing.

“I know… It sucks… for all of us.” Julie confirmed to her best friend the feelings of the ghosts lounged over her furniture, but the words seemed to strike an idea in Flynn’s head.

“Can you guys all sing something?” She asked, looking in the general direction of the couches, managing to meet Reggie’s eye contact, who sat up a little straighter, waving his hand to make sure she couldn’t actually see him. “I mean, you all appear when you sing with Julie, I’d get to see all your stupid faces again.” Flynn shrugged.

“It’s not a bad idea.” Alex posited, pulling his drumsticks from his back pocket.

“Ok, but Y/N picks the song.” Reggie suggested, to the shared chuckles of the ghosts and Julie, who quickly explained that the guys were up for it, just picking a song. The girls sat back down as Y/N sat up and flicked through the marked pages of Luke’s book, stopping on ‘Bright’. She handed the book over to Luke with the song picked, and he grinned, closing his eyes for a moment before his guitar appeared in his hands.

The sound of drumsticks against wood filled the air around Flynn before it was joined quickly by a soft guitar, and the soft hums of three boys in perfect harmony, setting Julie up to sing.

“Sometimes I think I’m falling down, I wanna cry, I’m calling out for one more try, to feel alive.” Julie sang along, Flynn watching in awe as it seemed the light started to shift around the couches and armchairs. “And when I feel lost and alone, I know that I can make it home, right through the dark, you find the spark. Life is a risk, but I will take it, close my eyes and jump. Together I think that we can make it, come on let’s run.” Flynn let out a squeal as the guys suddenly appeared out of thin air, Alex drumming away on the table edge as Reggie and Luke sang harmonies under Julie, the latter strumming the guitar.

“And rise through the night, you and I, we will fight to shine together, bright forever.” The lyrics were distorted a little by shared laughter in the room thanks to Flynn’s squeal, but the music was still beautiful, nonetheless. “And rise through the night, you and I, we will fight to shine together, bright forever.”

On the other side of the spectral veil, Y/N sat crossed legged on the couch, reading along as the band sang, her head swaying gently as she watched them perform just for Flynn, and in some ways, her.

“In times that I doubted myself, I felt like I needed some help.” Luke sang, trying to keep his eyes on his guitar with very little success. “Stuck in my head, with nothing left.” As Reggie and Julie joined in on separate harmony lines, Luke’s eyes travelled up to Y/N’s. “I feel something around me now, it’s so unclear, lifting me out. I found the ground I'm marching on.” Luke sent a wink to Y/N, who let out a laugh. From Flynn’s point of view, it very much looked like the band’s lead guitarist had winked at a pillow.

“Y/N, I swear if you don’t start singing to at least try and become visible, you can take your compliments about my dress sense back because we can’t be friends.” Flynn spoke over the boys and Julie singing the chorus, and Y/N sat up straight, glancing down at the words on the piece of paper and looking back up at the band around her, each one of them urging her to give them something, Luke most of all. It wasn’t just the fact that Flynn wouldn’t let it go until she saw Y/N, but Luke knew how amazing she actually was.

“Come on Y/N, please?” Julie pleaded, thinking it was at least worth a shot. Y/N found herself taking a deep breath and nodding, Luke tilting his guitar to point to their starting point.

“In times that I doubted myself,” Luke began to sing with just the tap of Alex’s stick accompanying him, but on the last word a female voice arose from the air, joining on a high harmony line. “I felt like I needed some help. Stuck in my head, with nothing left.” The notes became clearer by the minute, and Flynn let out a gasp as a girl started to fade into existence. She was sat cross legged on the couch in a pretty black dress, her eyes screwed shut as she sang along with Luke, who couldn’t stop smiling at her.

“And when I feel lost and alone, I know that I can make it home.” Julie joined in for the last lines of the bridge, Luke dropping out to leave the two girls singing. “Fight through the dark and find the spark…” Y/N found her eyes finally opening on the song’s last line, glancing over to find Flynn looking straight at her, to find everyone looking straight at her. As Luke strummed the last chord of the song, Y/N flashed into thin air, the boys following soon after.

“I saw her! For a hot minute there I thought Luke had some sort of imaginaey girlfriend, maybe you guys were just letting him have his moment, but that was a whole person on that couch.” Flynn jumped up from her chair, pointing at right where she had seen Y/N, who was wide eyed and staring at the music on her lap.

How did that happen? How was she visible without Caleb’s help? It just didn’t make sense to her. And with the thought of Caleb came the harsh reminder of what she was trying to do: how she was trying to make the guys, make Luke, give up their dreams with Julie. Willie’s words were ringing her head, and they quickly had her hyperventilating.

“Y/N, hey, are you alright?” Luke asked, placing his hand on hers, and she looked up nodding quickly.

“I just…” She started, but couldn’t quite find the words.

“It’s awesome, right?” Reggie said with a grin, and she nodded slightly, knowing not to correct him.

“Girls! Girls, pizza’s here!” A man’s voice shouted from outside the studio door, Julie and Flynn sharing a glance before Julie jumped to her feet.

“I’ll see you all tomorrow?” Julie promised, and the guys nodded, waving her and Flynn off as they left for the main house.

“I… I think I ought to go as well, actually.” Y/N spoke up after a moment of silence, still trying to process what had just happened. “Someone will probably try checking on me soon, if they haven’t already.” She said, quickly getting up from the couch and placing Luke’s journal on the table. “It was… It was really nice to meet you guys.” She smiled, starting a quick walk out, the trio watching her walk through the door.

“You going to go kiss her or what, Luke?” Alex spoke up after a moment, the guitarist looking up at his bandmates, then the door, and suddenly jumping to his feet to follow Y/N out.

“Y/N, Y/N wait!” Luke called out as he ran through the door, bumping into the back of her and sending her towards the ground. In a lightning quick move, he managed to catch her before she hit concrete, looking down at her wide eyes and shocked face.

“You really ought to watch where you’re going, Denim.” She breathed out, letting Luke help her back to her feet, though the distance between them only became smaller.

“I wanted to thank you for coming tonight, properly.” Luke said softly, his hand finding hers and their fingers interlacing. Y/N looked up into his eyes, finding their lips inches from one another. It was so tempting, to just give in to her better judgement and kiss him, to tell him everything: but then everything flashed before her eyes, and she couldn’t find the courage to do it. What would he think of her, once she told him what she had helped Caleb do to them?

“Don’t do that.” She whispered softly, her heart breaking at the sight of Luke’s smile turning to a frown, a coldness worse than the winds at the beach coming over her as he took his hand from hers and moved away.

“I’m sorry I thought that was what…” Luke started, and Y/N jumped to her own defence.

“It is!” She admitted, looking down at her shoes. “Just… I’m not ready yet.” She lied, but Luke seemed to believe it wholeheartedly. “I’m sorry.” She added, more for herself than Luke: at least she would know she apologised to him.

“Don’t apologise, Y/N. There’s nothing to forgive.” Luke assured her, pulling her into a hug. She hugged him back tightly, her arms wrapping around his neck as he held her up on her tiptoes.

If only you knew, Denim… If only.

“See you around.” She said with a smile and they pulled away, Y/N capturing the image of him waving goodbye in her head as she vanished back to her room at the hotel, hoping she could just slip into her bed until morning.

A floorboard creaked behind her in the dark room, and it seemed she wouldn’t be so lucky.

“Well, hello, little sunset.”

After Julie and Y/N’s departures, the guys found themselves outside, taking turns shooting for the basketball hoop that hung just above the studio doors. Luke took a few paces back with the ball before shooting and sinking the shot, receiving a cheer from Alex while Reggie scooped up the ball from the ground, spinning it between his hands.

“Feels like we should be celebrating, or something…” Reggie said with a shrug. The night had been a success, sure, but when a night had gone well back in the 90s, they would have gone out on the strip, seen a movie, done something big to celebrate. “What do you wanna do?” He asked, but they were interrupted.

A jolt hit them all at the same time, the pain from it so severe that it sent both Reggie and Luke to the floor, and had Alex doubling over in pain.

“Not that.” The blonde muttered, holding his stomach as he tried to straighten up, the pain fading almost as soon as it arrived.

“That wasn’t like the other ones… It’s getting worse.” Luke said softly, pulling himself up from the drive-set and dusting off his trousers.

“Why is this happening to us?” Reggie asked, leaning on his knees for support as he tried to get his breath back, the confused expressions on his bandmates’ faces giving no answers whatsoever.

“It’s because you guys are in serious trouble.” Out of thin air, Willie came into view, walking towards the three boys with a look of deep concern as he saw the aftermath of a jolt. They turned to look at the intruder on their conversation, Alex taking a step forward at the appearance of his… Whatever he and Willie were.

“Willie?”

“We need to talk…”

Willie knew the best way to keep off of Caleb’s radar was to a) move during club hours and b) stay walking. He wasn’t sure how, but Caleb had a sense for when people poofed in and out of his hotel, or when one of his workers did anything.

He had done his best to explain on their walk over to the Hollywood strip, but the guys still had plenty of questions.

“So, all these jolts that we’re feeling is because Caleb put his stamp on us?” Luke had to clarify, not sure he got it quite right. He had been seeing red the whole walk over, zoning in and out of the conversation.

“He’s threatened by you!” Willie exclaimed, the quartet coming to a natural stop so Willie could lay out their situation plain and simple. “He wants you under his control. I mean, you’re the only ghosts that can be visible to lifers without his help.” Reggie was about to correct him, tell Willie about Y/N and her visibility only a few hours before, but Alex stepped up first.

“And you let him do this to us?” He asked Willie, not quite sure what to think of the handsome skater boy. Sure, he had told them what was happening, but he still helped in making it happen.

“I can’t stop him. He owns my soul!” Willie defended himself. “All right? He owns everybody’s soul at that club. If he even knew I was here talking to you he… he would destroy me…” Willie trailed off, allowing Luke to step in.

“Everybody’s soul?” He asked, Reggie and Alex sending a look his way, something close to pity. Willie just nodded. “So, was she in on it too? Did she help?” Luke demanded an answer, and Willie sighed.

“Y/N is Caleb’s right hand… She’s been at the club for a quarter century I-” Willie paused, looking down. “Look, I may have found Alex but… But I came into this unwillingly. Y/N on the other hand… She wanted the challenge… I’m sorry.”

Willie’s words hit Luke straight in his core, and he found himself walking back and leaning on the closest wall, running his fingers through his hair as he tried to come to terms with the information: Y/N wasn’t morally grey like Willie, she was straight up a bad guy, maybe even worse than Caleb. She had seen Julie and The Phantoms perform; she knew how much their music meant to every single one of them.

“So if we don’t join his club, then the weird power outage thing continues until there’s no power left at all?” Reggie asked, sending a worried glance Luke’s way, but knowing if the distraught guitarist missed something he and Alex would catch him up.

“Yes.”

“What exactly happens when the power goes out?” Reggie asked the first of his follow up questions.

“That’s… That’s it… You’re done.” Willie gulps as he spoke.

“Uh-huh. Yeah. And what exactly do you mean by ‘we’re done’?” Reggie asked again, growing impatient.

“You just!” Willie finally got to the answer the trio needed. “You don’t exist… Anymore. Not anywhere.”

“What?”

“So we have no choice?” Luke spoke up for the first time in a while, pulling himself to his feet with a wipe of his watery eyes. “We have to say goodbye to Julie, give up everything we’ve built together, and work for Caleb? Work with her?” He asked, anger bubbling over. Not just at the predicament they found themselves in, but the fact that saying her name would remind him how he felt about her: in spite of all this, he still wanted her, still liked her. “That’s some club you got going on.” He muttered when Willie hesitated on his answer.

“But there is another option. That’s why I’m here. Just… Please. Hear me out.” He pleaded when Alex rolled his eyes, the boys falling silent to let him continue. “All right. If you guys could just figure out what your unfinished business is, you do it in time, you could cross over and be free from all of this.”

“Ok, so what’s our unfinished business?” Luke asked.

“I don’t know, but since you all died at the same time, you know, it might be something you need to do together.” Willie tried to offer a suggestion, but Alex was having none of it, stepping forward to push Willie a step back.

“Ok but why should we listen to a word you say?” He asked with a scoff, only to look up and meet those big puppy dog eyes that had him falling for the skater in the first place.

“Because I care about you, Alex.” Willie admitted, and Alex backed down. “And I hate that I brought you, and your friends into this mess. I uh…” He was getting teary eyed. “I can’t be away much longer… I’m sorry. For everything.” And with that, he vanished, leaving the three bandmates on the sidewalk alone.

“This is all my fault…” Alex started, shaking his head in disbelief. “I… I met Willie, Willie introduced us to Caleb, to Y/N, and now…Now we’re screwed…” He trailed off, Luke letting out a sigh.

“We all wanted to go see Caleb… And I went back to the club to see her I…” Luke ran a hand through his hair.

“We have to go tell Julie.” Reggie added to the conversation, receiving a stern look from both Alex and Luke.

“No, we can’t do that. All this means is more loss in her life.” Luke argued. First Julie’s mom, then them? That was too much for her to bear alone. “But if we don’t want Caleb to own our souls we have to figure out our unfinished business.”

“Yeah, man. And how are we supposed to do that?” Alex asked with a shrug of his shoulders. “All right? There was so much we wanted to do.” Luke nodded in defeat, glancing just past look in search of something, anything that might make light of the situation. Instead, he did a double take at the neon sign on the strip, one he had walked past the night before. “What is it?” Alex asked.

“Yeah, but the night we died, there was one thing we all wanted to do together.” Luke walked past the pair, Reggie and Alex’s following to where Luke’s were focused.

“Play the Orpheum?” Reggie asked the rhetorical question, all three now focused on the neon blue sign across the street.

“Getting that gig was literally impossible.” Alex reminded. “Even after people knew who we were, we had to hustle, call in every favour we had. It took years.” Another jolt went through them all, as bad as the last if not worse, sending all three doubling over in pain.

“Yeah, well,” Luke coughed out, taking a moment to stand up straight again. “We don’t have years.”

Part Five is here...

Tags: @im-a-writer-right @elioelioeli0 @jenjen889 @walkingonshunshine @parkeret @lolychu @leahstypewriter @j-mar-memester @sunsetcurve-h @musicconversedance @gracefulpenguin @shae-is-not-ok @talksoprettyjjx @smol-book-nerd @lord-of-the-fried @siennanoelle01 @deadpoolgirl23 @theatricalfangirl @deepsleepnat @hhyunj1n @lovesanimals

#luke patterson #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson x y/n #jatp luke x reader #jatp luke #jatp #julie and the phantoms #fanfiction #fanfic #jatp au #reader insert #the other side of hollywood #luke patterson fluff #fluff

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canary3d-obsessed · 3 years

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Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 17 second part

(Masterpost) (Previous Post) (Pinboard)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!!

Breaking Good

Wen Qing comes to visit Wen Ning in their backyard meth lab, and tells him that he fucked up a recipe, merely by taking a whiff of the concoction. She uses the approved "wave fumes toward self" way of smelling that you learn in high school science if you live in a country that believes in teaching science, which OP does not.

Wen Ning wants to know if they are going to have a feud, and she tells him there already is one. She tells explains to him that they're good Wens, not evil Wens, and that Jiang Cheng is fucked, and they should send the Jiangs away in the morning before Wen Chao comes around.

Wen Ning whines at her about all of this, shifting into little-brother persona and acting like he didn't just take down 40 of Wen Chao's soldiers in a single night. He does this same persona shifting in his later unlife, with Wei Wuxian. When there is trouble, he's extremely effective, and can even tail WWX and Lan Wangji without getting caught, but then he is hopeless when dealing with turnips or children.

Here, it seems like a version of Wei Wuxian's own little-brother persona, in which he pretends to be helpless so that his sister can take care of him.

#studyblr

Wei Wuxian comes into Wen Qing's head shop to ask her for medical books. He loves his brother so much he's volunteering for a research project. We've seen him be clever before; we've seen circumstantial evidence that he's a good student, but now we're going to see him actually buckling down and doing intellectual work.

Wen Qing thinks its hopeless and wants Wei Wuxian to get some rest. But he gives her puppydog eyes, so she sets him up in her library.

Wei Wuxian reads a huge pile of medical books and learns interesting things about the human body.

(more after the cut)

Hopefully he does not splotch ink all over them while he holds this wet brush directly over the page. Why does he even have a brush in his hand? Is he taking notes in the margin?

Wen Qing eventually tells him to take a break and go see Jiang Yanli.

Segmentation fault (core dumped)

Jiang Yanli is tending to Jiang Cheng, gently telling him to suck it up by citing their father, which is probably not the greatest idea.

Yanli's wearing dark blue with white and looks awesome. It's not Gusu Lan blue, but the blue and white is an interesting choice for the excruciating heart to heart they're about to have.

Wei Wuxian shows up looking terrible, or the Xiao Zhan version of terrible, i.e. handsome and a little scruffy. But also worn out, unhappy, and fragile.

Jiang Yanli wants him to rest, but he wants to find a way to repair Jiang Cheng's core, and his mind races, trying to think of where he can get books and who can help him. His thoughts instantly go to Cloud Recesses and Lan Wangji. His face lights up at the thought that Lan Wangji will help him, and he hops up, ready to dash off and find him.

The first time I watched this I was like, dude yes you’re in love, but you can’t just dash off to find Lan Wangji, not when there’s a war on. This time I was like, actually wow things would turn out a whole lot better if you got Lan Wangji to help you, instead of coming up with your own plan.

Mother Mother Can You Tell Me

Jiang Yanli tells him to slow his roll. He's pushing himself too hard and she's afraid he will collapse. Then Wei Wuxian comes out and says what's driving him: maybe all these disasters are his fault.

It's telling, I think, that he cites Madame Yu, not Jiang Cheng, in this moment, even though Jiang Cheng has blamed him much more thoroughly and consistently. He's talking about one mother figure, to another mother figure, and looking for absolution.

He super does not get what he's looking for.

Jiang Yanli slowly lets go of him and goes the fuck off. She asks, rhetorically, what he's to blame for, and then lists off all of the shit that's happened. She finishes up by saying, look at our situation; blaming won't help anything.

It's unclear, because language/translation, if her answer is "it doesn't matter who's to blame" I.E. "yes, it's your fault, but I'm letting it go" or if she is saying "how does blaming yourself help anything?" I.E. "it's not your fault, stop being a drama llama."

Her body language, though, seems pretty blameful - she lets go of him, yells at him, sits down and turns away from him. And his reaction is not one of shared grief, or of someone who is trying to get over himself; he's totally crushed, and he literally never unburdens himself to her again. Even when he asks her, much later, about love, he immediately backs out of the conversation.

There is no violence in this moment and her reaction is understandable, but this is kind of similar to that one time when his brother choked him in a beautiful field of grass, in order to make himself feel better.

Then she kind of relents and takes his hand, telling him that she needs him and reminding him that he promised that they will go back to Lotus Pier. I don't remember him promising this, but okay.

He puts his head on her lap and he cries, she cries, comatose Jiang Cheng cries; FUCK this episode.

Jiang Cheng manages to cry only one tear and does it on the side of his face that his siblings can't see because he's not going to give them the satisfaction of sharing this moment with him, I guess.

When Wei Wuxian puts his head on Jiang Yanli's lap, it's part of a ritual for them, that they both are comforted by; he does it again much later, after they return to Lotus Pier. But this ritual does not actually do anything to relieve his burdens. As a male adult, and the only Jiang Clan disciple with any abilities, it falls to him to save the clan, whatever it takes, and he is heavily aware of it.

Wen Qing comes along and sees the sweet part of this complicated Shijie-Shidi dynamic, and decides to help with Wei Wuxian's research project. When the trio had just lost their parents, gotten sick, been pursued by enemies, & had one of Yanli's little brothers horribly wounded, Wen Qing was like, eh, I'll do the doctor stuff but that's it. But lap-crying is another level.

Wen Qing: Nooo don't put your head on her knees I failed my saving throw

Group Project

Wen Qing goes and cleans up the mess in the library, putting everything in order and settling in to read systematically. Wen Qing probably has the prettiest bullet journal. (OP looks proudly at the 100 loose slips of paper and piles of random stuff on her own desk)

Wei Wuxian has shaved and rested and comes in with a tray of food for Wen Qing, and then goes to his table in the back to start working. He claims he made "porridge" for her and that she has to eat to gain strength, and she gives him an intrigued expression. This moment is just blatant het baiting.

In fact the food he brings her is clearly not porridge, which might just be a translation error, but also he totally can't cook, so it's not clear if he's joking and Yanli or Wen Ning made the food, or if this is just inedible.

The Things We Do For Love

Yanli is working in the meth lab and coughing a lot. Yanli's chronic illness is a sign of what's to come for Wei Wuxian, because strong cultivators don't get sick. Yet Yanli, as a physically vulnerable person, who has either a weak golden core, or none, is still intrinsically valuable. Her presence in this scene is a reminder that Jiang Cheng's life is not, actually, over; he just feels like it is.

While Yanli cooks the meth, Wei Wuxian and Wen Qing have a study montage that is the equivalent of a training montage, except without "Eye of the Tiger" on the soundtrack.

Jiang Cheng remains unconscious. Apparently if you stick nails in the top of someone's head, you make them sleep, and in the back of their head, you turn them into part of your zombie army. Fortunately Wen Qing's aim is good. Jiang Cheng is looking devastatingly handsome as usual the TV version of unwell, and has grown a perfect Dorito-chip of stubble on his chin to go with his new 'stache.

Eventually Wei Wuxian changes back into his non-vampire robe and he finds the answer in an old scroll book. The Ikea instruction picture shows arrows going from the guy on the left to the guy on the right. Clearly it's not a great procedure for the guy on the left.

Wei Wuxian's face shows us exactly how not great.

Like walking in the rain and the snow and there’s no place to go and you’re feeling like a part of you is dying

He goes outside and gazes up at the trees and the sky as he contemplates the sacrifice that circumstance is forcing on him. He's not even making a choice at this point; his choice was made the moment he found the procedure. But it's going to be a tremendous loss for him. He values sword cultivation at least as much as Jiang Cheng does; he even fell in love with a boy over crossed swords. So he sits and just kind of comes to terms with this new understanding of his future. (Big gifs here)

Wen Qing finds him sitting, stunned, on the porch. She doesn't know what's up so she just sits quietly with him until he's ready to tell her.

She doesn't love the plan.

Thunder, Th-th-thunder

Wen Ning is bringing food up when he sees them arguing, and he is startled by situationally appropriate thunder and lightning. Having recently watched The Lost Tomb Reboot I've come to expect thunder and lighting to appear on cue in any possible situation, so the fact that this mini-storm clears right up again doesn't bother me.

What About You?

Wen Ning dashes inside to see what Mom and Dad are fighting about. They're having a polite shouting match because Wen Qing refuses to yank out Wei Wuxian's core.

Wen Qing: I hate the idea of harming you Wei Wuxian: I don’t even understand that sentence

Wei Wuxian doesn’t, of course, feel that he is important in any way, and ignores her concerned and appalled expressions in favor of telling her to just do it anyway. Amazingly, this does not convince her.

OP’s 177cm-tall son keeps telling her this

Then Wei Wuxian plays the "you know Jiang Cheng" card, which...I guess she does? Maybe he was chatting her up more than we saw in Cloud Recesses? He hasn't given her the comb or anything yet. Wei Wuxian explains that Jiang Cheng cares about gain and loss, and cultivation is his life. If he can only be ordinary the rest of his life will be ruined.

Wen Qing asks the question that nobody ever asks him: What about you?

Wei Wuxian has literally nothing to say to that, possibly because the question is so new to him.

Wen Ning doesn't know what's going on but comes squarely in on team Wei, of course, and begs his sister to Do The Thing. How fucking horrified is Wen Ning going to be when he learns what The Thing is? What he is personally going to help do to his beloved friend? Yikes.

Wen Qing caves, warning them that the chance of success is only 50 percent. Wei Wuxian is happy to take those odds.

Lan Wangji, projecting his voice from Episode 46: fifty percent, are you fucking kidding me?

Soundtrack: 1. Mother Mother by Tracy Bonham 2. The Things We Do For Love by 10cc 3. Thunder by Imagine Dragons

#fytheuntamed #the untamed #the untamed gifs #wen qing #wen ning #restless rewatch the untamed #canary3d-original #my gifs #episode 17 #OMG this episode #god I miss lan wangji #warning: psychic pain

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ieatmypizzawithaforkandknife · 3 years

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MAG 022 - Colony

Summary: Martin Blackwood dictates his statement regarding “a close encounter with something I believe to have once been Jane Prentiss.”

So can we all agree that Martin is the most adorable person ever and needs to be protected at all costs? Because within the first minute of this episode he was firmly placed in the Smol Bean category of my brain, and there he shall forever be. I am quite certain I will end up crying about this man at some point.

I’m really glad I listened to this episode again after finishing the season, because even in the short time between this episode and the season finale, so much of my opinions on Jonathan himself and on the relationship between Jonathan and Martin have changed. I know, this episode was about Martin - but it was also the first time we actually got to see these two characters interact, as opposed to Jonathan just making offhand comments about Martin’s supposedly subpar work. (Poor Martin. Mean Jonathan.)

I love how Martin says, “I just want to make a statement about what happened to me. I mean...it’s what we do!” and Jonathan’s immediate reply is, “No, what we do is research statements - usually those made by liars and the mentally unwell.” His tone holds its usual amount of derision, but after listening to the last few episodes of S1, I can’t find it in myself to hold it against him anymore. (I never claimed to be good at reading people.) Towards the end of the episode, Jonathan tells Martin he can sleep in the Archive, basically doing what I think was the Jonathan version of reassuring him, by telling him how safe it is. His tone isn’t reassuring - it’s very factual, as he lists off all the different ways the Institute is a safe place and by telling Martin he’ll ask Elias about adding some extra security. But if Jonathan were just trying to get Martin to sleep there so he wouldn’t lose a research assistant, he probably could’ve just told Martin to stay there and Martin would’ve listened. He seems to care about Martin in a way that isn’t shown in his offhand remarks in previous episodes. And while there’s a slight admonishment when he says, “No, what we do is research statements”, it smacks more of a concerned admonishment than an angry one to me. Conclusion: Jonathan is, as always, terrible with people, but not because he doesn’t care.

I’m also wondering how much of the “No, what we do is research statements” line was Jonathan and how much was Elias. It reminded me of what Jonathan said when he was contemplating bringing up the Leitner situation to Elias in episode 17: “I know he’ll just give me the old “record and study, not interfere or contain” speech again”. In particular, the word “again” indicates it’s something they’ve butted heads on before. It’s interesting that in this episode Jonathan seems to take Elias’ position on the issue. It could be that he’s just trying to be responsible in a general sense and that he doesn’t want to be liable if anything happens to Martin. But, taken with what I said in the previous paragraph, it could also be read as “I’d like to discourage this man from further endangering himself in the future because I care about him and I cannot/do not know how to express this directly, so I will hide behind what my own boss has told me many times.”

On the subject of Martin himself - I don’t think I can properly express how much I already love this adorable, nervous man. There were just so many great lines from him in this episode, whether for characterization or for humor - and often it was both. The long beat of silence after “Well, I need to tell someone what happened, and you can vouch for the soundness of my mind, can’t you?” Also: “Look, I know you hate the word, but it was really…spooky.” And “I was heading home when I got to thinking, and…I was worried I hadn’t really done enough investigation for you”. And “I’ve catalogued and looked into enough of these cases to know that following the noise is always a really, really bad idea, but…I mean…it’s my job, isn’t it?” And finally, at the very end when Jonathan offers him a place to stay at the Archive, he’s so flustered, both at the offer and at the very idea that Jonathan believes him. He’s basically tripping over himself and cringing as he gives his own statement, so hung up on the idea that he won’t be believed or that this isn’t enough.

And who can blame him? If you really think about what happened to him...I can’t blame him for thinking he wouldn’t be believed or that no one would be concerned for his safety. From his perspective, he just spent thirteen days alone in his apartment with no electricity, no company, no way to communicate with the outside world - and, to his knowledge, not a single person checked up on him! Obviously that was a good thing, because if someone had come to his door, they would have been met with Jane Prentiss - but Martin went for almost two weeks without a single good night’s sleep, eating ready meals and canned food, being constantly startled by her knocking, and he had to have wondered, at least once, why no one even wondered where he was.

One key to Martin’s survival was that he had plenty of water: “Luckily there was no problem with my water supply, so I had plenty to drink. I’m just glad none of them thought to come up through the pipes.” I genuinely can’t tell if Jonny’s hanging a lampshade on the issue or if we’re supposed to wonder why the worms never came up through the pipes, but in any case I am wondering it. Another key to his survival is that, despite not having a peephole, Martin somehow knew when she’d gone - and he wasn’t entirely sure how he knew. He surmises that the musty smell surrounding her must have been gone, and he didn’t hear any knocking for a little while, but in the end he has to confirm her absence by simply opening his door - which, if he were wrong, would have led to certain death - or, as he says at one point, “worse”.

Another mystery to me is when Martin goes into the basement of the building on Boothby Rd the first time and this happens: “I didn’t like the way my shadow moved. The light from the window behind me cast it pretty clearly on the floor, and looking at it I swear the edges seemed to move…it’s was like a, like an undulation…like, like they were being shifted by something.” He doesn’t follow this up with “and then I noticed my ‘shadow’ was actually worms on the floor”, so this doesn’t seem like a Jane Prentiss thing to me, or a Carlos Vittery’s spider thing either. And if it isn’t associated with either of the two known Boothby Rd-related entities, then it was something else entirely, which has me worried. But that’s the only mention of anything like a shadow being “shifted” in this episode, so for now I’m hoping I’m just reading too much into things.

There were so many excellent visual descriptions in this episode, so kudos to Jonny as always, and in this case kudos also to Alex for the performance. Martin describes the Jane Prentiss worms as “maybe an inch long, with a silver segmented body that goes black at one end, almost like it’s been burned.” This could just be a general creepy description, but I would be remiss if I didn’t point out the “burning” imagery here, given all the times fire and burning have come up before, even though I’m not sure what specifically it might be connected to from previous episodes. More concrete, though, is the difference between Jane Prentiss’ clothing when Martin encounters her and what she was wearing in her first appearance in episode 6. Harriett Lee, her victim in that episode, told Timothy Hodge, the man who gave the statement, that she found Prentiss wearing a long red dress. By contrast, Martin finds her in the basement wearing “a threadbare grey overcoat, though beneath it her legs were bare” (so, she’s no longer wearing the long red dress) and holding “a stained green handkerchief.” The events of episode 6 occurred in late November 2014 - almost a year and a half before Martin’s encounter with her. So why was she still in that area after all that time? We know she isn’t physically unable to leave - she follows Martin all the way to his home in Stockwell. And where did she get the overcoat and the handkerchief? I’m assuming it came from another victim, though she could have stolen them I guess. As far as we know they never did follow up with Timothy Hodge, despite Jonathan noting in that episode that they probably should. Jonathan also hasn’t mentioned looking into missing persons reports from the area either, even though that seems to me like an obvious thing to investigate.

Speaking of investigating...my ears perked up when the owner of the building told Martin that Carlos’ cat now lives with the Sanderson couple in apartment 2. I immediately flashed back to episode 15 and Laura Popham’s missing (presumably dead) sister, Elena Sanderson. (I remembered the name because of the Sanderson sisters, of course. #90schild) I don’t think it’s an actual connection, though, for two reasons: First, it doesn’t fit the timeline. Elena went missing in June 2014, and this Sanderson couple apparently still lives in this building in early 2016. It could be a relative, or maybe she magically reappeared, but I don’t see any specific reason to think either of those things. Second, there are something like 20,000 people with that surname living in England (yay genealogy websites). If it were a less common name, I’d be more suspicious, but as it stands now I’m keeping it in mind but leaning towards it being a coincidence.

Some final thoughts on Jane Prentiss. She apparently “called herself to be a practicing witch and believed [herself] to be infected by a dangerous, unknown parasite.” This is the first time the word “witch” is mentioned in the show (unless you’re counting Julia Montauk going to see The Witches in episode 9 lol), but not the first time we have seen something, or someone, witch-like. There are almost too many examples of things that could be considered “magic” to list, but the ones that stand out to me the most as potentially witch-like are: Mary Key being alive and the bones falling out of the books in episode 4; Agnes Montague/Fielding/whatever her name is and her apparent agelessness in episode 8; Robert Montauk’s heart ritual in the shed in episode 11; the unnamed man’s chanting in the hospital in episode 12; and Angela in episode 14. I’m not sure how any of these might be connected, but now that the word’s been mentioned I’m considering it a possibility.

And lastly...“Keep him. We have had our fun. He will want to see it when the archivist’s crimson fate arrives.” Jonathan’s voice when he read that last part, man. Martin asks what it means, and he sounds genuine, but Jonathan...I think Jonathan was thinking the same thing I am: that “the archivist’s crimson fate” sounds an awful lot like the description of Gertrude Robinson’s death as foretold in the dream from episode 11, particularly in the description of the Institute: “It was this building into which all the veins flowed: every door, every window was solid with them. When the bursts of red light passed into it, the whole building glowed crimson.”

This post is part of a series where I write my thoughts about each episode and obsessively connect dots in an effort to figure out The Big Mysteries of the series. All posts in this series are tagged “is this liveblogging?” Comments and messages are welcome but I have only listened to season 1, so I ask that you not spoil me for anything beyond episode 40. In the words of Jonny Sims…thanks for listening!

Minor spoilers for a later episode in S1 after the cut.

Just have to take a moment to freak out about the fact that I completely forgot about Martin’s description of Jane Prentiss’ skin as “full of holes - deep, black holes just honeycombing every bit of flesh like a…wasps’ nest.” HOW DID I NOT NOTICE THAT HE USED THE EXACT SAME WORDS SHE DID IN HER STATEMENT. Like, I don’t know if it’s significant, or if the description just fit so well that Jonny wanted to reuse it, but...damn.

#personal #liveblogging #is this liveblogging?#The Magnus Archives #how do I always end up writing BOOKS #I thought this one was gonna be shorter too #also I'm officially switching over to Gerard instead of Jared even though I still don't think that's what it sounds like at all #it bugs me

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inspired-by-the-music · 4 years

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For You: 4 O’Clock

Chapter 3: Secrecy

Taglist: @jineunwootrash

I walked downstairs with the reasons why I shouldn’t be required to attend Donghae’s birthday party pressed on the tip of my tongue.

The Reasons:

I saw Donghae so often that seeing him for a split second at a work party (where he would dash from guest to guest) seemed kind of ridiculous

SuperM was setting out on a world tour at daybreak, and I couldn’t afford to lose hours of sleep. My face was already swollen, drowsy from staying up all night playing Truth or Dare with the guys.

I was still working on the third reason, but it would probably be something along the lines of “What’s the point in going to a birthday party if I can’t even eat cake because of this stupid diet?”

I didn’t get to voice any of my reasons to convince Mom to let me stay home, though, because I dropped my jaw on the floor when I found her sitting on the living room couch. She was still wearing the red tracksuit she wore when she drove me home from the campsite. She wore a pale green clay mask.

“What are you doing?” I checked my phone because if Mom was laying around, I must have been mistaken about the time. Nope, the screen said, I was right. “Donghae’s party starts in 30 minutes.”

She joked, “Oh, you don’t like my outfit?” before registering my unamused expression. “I’m not going, Lei. I’m sick.” She forced the least convincing fake laugh of all time, and I rolled my eyes. How gullible did she think I was?

“Fine.” I plopped down onto the couch next to her, saying, “Then I’m sick, too.” I didn’t go so far as to fake a cough, but I doubt she would have been convinced even if I had been truly unwell.

“Oh, no.” Mom kicked me off of the couch with her (mismatched) socked feet. “You used your fake flu excuse to get out of ‘Knowing Bros’—”

My entire body cringed at the mention of Heechul’s variety show. I loved Heechul, but that show— with great effort, I had managed to have a successful career without appearing on a single episode, and I planned to keep it that way.

“You need to go to Donghae’s party, anyway.” Mom lectured with facts I already knew well: “He’s never been anything but kind to you, so grab his present off the kitchen table. There’s a car outside waiting for you.”

Just to be clear: I wasn’t trying to weasel out of going to the party because I didn’t want to see Donghae or celebrate his birthday. I never would have said this out loud for fear of sounding like a total freak, but I really, really hated work parties. Although the atmosphere was always uncomfortably formal, even for birthday parties, boys (namely, Sehun) tried to blur the lines in strictly professional relationships.

Maybe I shouldn’t have been so bothered. Maybe I should have tried to understand that they were grasping at romance the only ways they could— even if it was a fake, pseudo-romance explored in the shadows of an S.M. banquet hall. But I was bothered, and I didn’t understand, and I didn’t want to go.

And, more pressingly, I didn’t want to see Taemin again. Except I did. Just not so soon, and not before I could figure out how to thank him for his jacket. Not before I understood why I wanted him to smile (the real smile) at me. Not before I understood why he wanted my ribbon.

Wanting to avoid Taemin wasn’t just cowardly; it was impractical, considering that I would have to see him every day for the next few months on our North American tour. I would have to face him sooner or later, talk to him sooner or later, and there was no point in delaying our next conversation.

I opened my mouth to complain— or least to ask how I was supposed to get home after the party— but Mom had turned her attention back to the paperwork in her lap. Maybe she was genuinely too busy to go to the party, even though it was for work, even though it was hosted on Donghae’s behalf. I didn’t know, and I didn’t want to ask if she was still avoiding Donghae.

I felt like the longer I stayed with her, the likelier I was to ask if she was the idol who never debuted. I didn’t see what good could come from asking, so I ran out of the room, grabbed the small wrapped gift from the table, and crawled into the back seat of the company car in the driveway.

“Damn, Lei,” Lucas whistled when he found me in the corner of the banquet hall where the light didn’t quite reach. “You look good!”

When he tried to pull me into a hug, I swatted him away. “This is why we have dating rumors, Lucas,” I scolded, knowing that he would shrug my concerns away while laughing.

Lucas’s eternal smile broadened as he teased, “If anyone figures out where Taemin got his bracelet, your dating rumors won’t center around me anymore.”

The only comfort was knowing that even if my blush broke through my makeup, Lucas wouldn’t have been able to see it in the dim lighting. “Stop saying that. There’s nothing like that there.”

“That’s what you keep saying.” Lucas raised a disposable red cup to his lips, so his next words were muffled. “But that dimple in your chin— the one that only deepens when you lie— says otherwise.”

Cupping a hand over my chin, I hissed, “There is no dimple!”

Lucas laughed at my reaction, and I realized that he was just messing with me. While these dating rumors were my greatest source of stress, they were just another thing for him to laugh about. I never wanted to be the reason Lucas’s laughter died, so I had to learn to play along.

This was the issue: Lucas understood my point of view; he just didn’t share it, and I couldn’t force him to.

Once he realized that I couldn’t force laughter, Lucas tried to get our conversation back on track. “Anyway, you called me over here to talk about Mom and Donghae. Does that mean there are updates?”

I shrugged and shuffled closer to him so I didn’t have to speak louder than absolutely necessary. “I still don’t know why she’s avoiding Donghae, but she didn’t come to the party—”

My attempts at secrecy were thwarted when Lucas repeated, loudly, “She didn’t come to the party?” He clamped a hand over his mouth when I cut my eyes at him. As he should have in the first place, he whispered, “She didn’t come to the party?”

“Yeah.” I nodded, tucking behind my ear a curl that had escaped my bun. “She even faked some kind of illness. She did one of those lame coughs—” Lucas hacked frailly into the sleeve of his shirt— “Yeah, exactly like that. She’s definitely not sick.”

Lucas’s brow furrowed so tightly that I imagined steam might blow out of his ears from over-exerting his brain. “But why? What could Donghae have done?”

Before I could say that I had no idea, a voice spoke from the deeper shadows, “I can find out if you want.” Sehun stepped into the light.

As I rolled my eyes at the sight of him— the second to last person I wanted to see that evening— Lucas snorted into his drink.

“What do you say, Lei?” Like a character from a movie— some kind of spy film whose plot I couldn’t quite follow no matter how hard I focused— Sehun offered his hand to me. “I’m close to Donghae. I can ask him what’s going on with him and Momager if you really want to know.”

I shook my head at the offer. Dropping his hand to his side, sure to slap it against his black dress pants, Sehun drew his eyebrows together curiously as if to ask, “Why do you always reject me?” The words didn’t have to leave his mouth; he asked them frequently enough while making that face— brows arched more than usual, lips pressed in a thin line— that I knew when they were blaring in his mind.

Unable to bear the silent exchange, Lucas tried to explain to Sehun, “She doesn’t want to owe you any favors, dude.”

I know it sounds cynical, but Lucas was right. Nobody liked to admit it, but in the entertainment industry, nobody does anything for the sake of accomplishing a good deed. Everybody is always looking to get ahead somehow, usually by performing these little favors, and I never wanted to be involved in anything like that— especially not with boys (like Sehun) who only wanted to see how close I would get to dating them.

Sehun rolled his eyes at my cynicism like he always did. “How do you know that I’m not offering out of the goodness of my heart, Lei? You know I would do almost anything to make my fans happy.” He smiled at me, and my heart might have fluttered if I harbored the slightest budding feelings for him. As it was, my glare hardened, and I wanted to slap Baekhyun for telling Sehun that he was my bias.

Shaking my head, I brushed past Sehun to find Donghae. I thought that after wishing him a happy birthday in person, I could have justified leaving the party early.

I wasn’t surprised (just disappointed) that Sehun trailed closely behind, asking, “Why am I your bias, anyway, if you dislike me this much? Is it because of my visuals? That’s it, right? I’m the most handsome guy you’ve ever seen.”

“As a matter of fact,” I rounded on Sehun, frustrated that he grinned at the attention as he held his hands up in mock surrender, “it’s your eyebrows. I like your eyebrows.”

“Oh.” Sehun laughed, leaning against a nearby table. “So this is what we’re doing? We’re listing what we like about each other?”

“No,” I said sternly.

I knew that the more I resisted, the more he would pursue me. This was a game. I hated it, and I hated that my natural temperament made it drag on forever.

“I don’t dislike you, Sehun, but when you act like this—”

“Like what?” He smirked. “Like the man of your dreams?”

“Like the total opposite,” I replied maybe a little too harshly. The festivities around us died down as some guests tried to listen to our conversation and even more relocated to carry on joyfully without having to hear us.

I always felt bad at this part— when I snapped because I felt cornered, and Sehun stood still, staring at the ground like I had drawn blood. If I hurt him, then why did he keep flirting me? If this wasn’t a game, wouldn’t he get tired of rejection?

If it was a game, it wasn’t fun for me. I didn’t like rejecting Sehun, and I didn’t like that I had to avoid him at events like this, but the fact remained: I wasn’t interested in him like that. I didn’t know how else to tell him. I didn’t like that he made me into this villain— or, worse, this unattainable ideal— just because it made me more interesting to him.

I wasn’t something to chase: I was a person. Why couldn’t he understand that? Did I really have to explain it to him?

Sehun met my eyes when he said, “I won’t give up,” for the thousandth time.

I started to beg him to give up— or to at least stop blurring the lines between fantasy and reality— or to at least outright say that he liked me if that was the problem— but I didn’t get the chance. Donghae, Heechul, and Baekhyun crowded around the table, so I swallowed my concerns.

“Wait a minute.” Heechul’s gaze flickered between me and Sehun. Dimples formed in his cheeks. “This isn’t the boy I usually see you with, Lei!”

Baekhyun laughed. Nudging Heechul, and, cupping around his mouth as if he was divulging a secret, Baekhyun explained, “This is another one of Lei’s suitors. Apparently she and Lucas are ‘just friends,’ much to the fans’ disappointment, and Sehun is ‘just her bias,’ much to Sehun’s disappointment.”

Sehun and I, at least, were united in the simultaneous rolling of our eyes as Baekhyun and Heechul cackled together.

Sehun promised, “I’ll text you later, Lei,” and stalked away without responding to Baekhyun’s and Heechul’s harmonizing whistles.

Donghae, who had been shifting uncomfortably since arriving at the table, asked the dreaded question, “Where’s your mom?” while Baekhyun and Heechul were too busy harassing Sehun to notice.

Whatever he had done to upset Mom must have been an unwitting accident; Donghae smiled at the mere mention of her. For a second— a split second— I hated Mom for sending me into this situation where I had to break Donghae’s smile by answering, “She’s not here. She, um, isn’t feeling well.”

“What?” Donghae, Heechul, and Baekhyun asked in unison.

Heechul slipped away from the conversation without arousing Donghae’s or Baekhyun’s attention; their wide eyes were too focused on me to notice anything else. I wondered how mad Heechul would be when he drove to my house just to find Mom sitting (perfectly healthy) on the couch, probably watching episodes of their drama without him.

“She’s not feeling well?” Donghae repeated. Tiny dimples formed in his chin as he realized, frowning, “She’s never missed one of my parties before. This one year, she came even though she had the flu, and I had to beg her to go home!”

“It’s very unlike her to miss a work event.” The sadness in Baekhyun’s voice was so exaggerated that I met his gaze anxiously. What was he up to? Mock concern flooded his eyes as he said, “She must be really sick, huh, Lei? Coughing and everything?”

Oh. I realized when the corner of Baekhyun’s lips twitched upward that he overheard my conversation with Lucas. I guess he had already proven through his successful kidnapping plot that he could keep his big mouth shut when he needed too; now, he proved it again by quietly eavesdropping on me and Lucas and using his knowledge to make me squirm.

Note: Baekhyun was dangerous not just because he was cute. He was also sneaky.

Unsure of how to maintain Mom’s lie when Baekhyun knew the truth, I nodded subtly.

“It’s so weird how health can take such sudden turns for the worst.” Baekhyun shook his head and pounded his fist on the metallic navy blue table cloth. “Momager seemed fine when I talked to her earlier—” he paused to stage a dramatic gasp before asking, “You don’t think we’ll have to postpone the tour, do you? If Momager is sick, how can we leave first thing tomorrow morning?”

“Tomorrow morning?” Donghae’s eyes rounded as they looked to me for confirmation. “You’re leaving on tour tomorrow?”

I nodded, and I would have apologized to Donghae— even though I couldn’t explain why I was sorry— but Baekhyun interrupted by asking, “You don’t think she’s faking, do you? Do you think she had a hot date or something?”

Donghae gasped, “What?”

Glaring at Baekhyun, I answered through gritted teeth, “My mother would never prioritize any date over her work obligations.”

I didn’t expect Donghae to react by dropping his gaze somewhere on the table and wheezing, “I’m more than a work obligation, right?”

“Yes, of course, absolutely,” I wanted to tell him. “You’re so important to us— to me and to Mom. You are a member of the first group she helped debuted, and you have been such a fixture in our life, and you’ve never been anything but kind and—”

Oh. My stomach tied in knots as I understood why Mom didn’t want to come to the party. The knots tightened as I realized how similar Mom and I were. Neither of us wanted to worry about anything other than performing our jobs well. Neither of us knew how to respond when somebody tried to cross that line between colleague and— I don’t know— boyfriend, so we always ran away.

Oh. My heart sank as I wondered if I ever made Sehun frown the way Mom made Donghae frown with her mere absence. I doubted it, but the thought was still sickening. Maybe— maybe Mom thought that Donghae wouldn’t notice her absence among all the other party guests, but that misunderstanding didn’t lessen his very real disappointment right before my eyes. Maybe— maybe you don’t have to try to break a heart.

Baekhyun must have been oblivious to mine and Donghae’s shared discomfort. He rattled on, “Maybe Momager isn’t as virtuous as you, Lei.” Although Donghae and I bore into him with our glares, Baekhyun suggested, lips pressed out in a tiny pout, “Maybe she’s more like the idol who never debuted.”

“This again?” I set my jaw and narrowed my eyes at the ceiling before telling Baekhyun, “I don’t know why you’re so hell-bent on believing that my mom is some failed trainee, and I don’t know why you’re stupid or cruel enough to keep saying it right in front of me, but you’re really pissing me off.”

Storming out of the party after yelling at my leader the night before our world tour was probably the worst thing I had done in my entire career. I knew that even as my pulse sounded angrily in my ears, but I was too angry to swallow my pride and apologize to Baekhyun.

Maybe I thought that the cool Autumn air outside would soothe my temper and enable me to do what would encourage a peaceful tour with SuperM. Maybe I knew that I wouldn’t return to the party no matter how many hours I wasted under the stars, trying to throw away the feelings I couldn’t express.

Whatever I thought would come from running from my explosive emotions, I didn’t expect Donghae to find me. I didn’t expect him to say, wearing the same gentle smile as always (as if he hadn’t been frowning just moments before), “Come on. I’ll drive you home if you really don’t want to be here.”

I stared at him, unable to blink, because those were exactly the words Taemin said by the lake last night before untying my wrists. I stared at him because I was trying to map the similarities between Donghae and Taemin. I couldn’t quite articulate it, but the same thing that made Donghae’s eyes tender made Taemin’s smile brilliant. What was it about them that I couldn’t understand— that I wanted to understand?

Had I been thinking clearly, I might have been able to understand. I might have considered that Mom probably didn’t want Donghae near our house; then, I wouldn’t have accepted his offer to drive me home.

Often, I wonder what would have happened if Donghae hadn’t forced his way past Heechul into the house. I wonder if the truth would have come out some other day— some other way— instead. I wonder if events played out as they should have. I wonder what I could have done differently.

23 notes · View notes

nox-scrie · 4 years

Text

Shady Bussines

What do you mean it’s the 27th and I should have posted this a day earlier for the TMA5 Countdown? Sorry, I can’t hear you over the sound of recovering my senses from a senseless previous day. Anyway. This is the second day of TMA5 Countdown wow!! The fears were The Corruption and The Buried and because I love that coffin with all my heart I decided to bring it back for another round. No, this one is not corrected either and no, I’m not sorry. I hate rereading my works. It happens. Hope y’all gonna enjoy it though!!

Fears: The Corruption; The Buried brieeef mentions of The Eye

Content Warnings: Death, Paranoia, some mentions of Insects

Rating: Teen and Up Audience

Characters: Jon “Tired of your shit before you even started talking” Sims, Martin “What even is going on” Blackwood, Jane Prentiss, some mentions of Tim “Love of my life” Stoker and Sasha “WHY WON’T YOU LET ME LOVE YOU” James; also some OCs and one of them appeared in Day 1 too!

Setting: Season 1!! a little after episode 22, with Martin’s time spent in self isolation (hah.)

Word Count: ~3670

~~~ Shady Bussines

Jon stepped into his office, viewing the piles of unread, unordered statements, and felt another headache forming. He was having none of the former Archivist's shit, not after last night.

There was little light in his office, and he turned off almost all the ones that were still on. The buzzing of the light bulbs was annoying what was left of Jon's sanity, and he wanted to be in the best of his mental capacity when he read a statement he has prepared, one that seemed to be related to Case #9982211.

He slowly dragged himself to his office anyway, putting on his reading glasses that were hung around his neck and tightening his tie. This was his job, and he didn't want to be fired after barely a month of being the Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute because of a pretty bad hangover.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he opened a drawer, the only fucking thing in order in this room, and got a tape recorder out. He sighed, thinking with half a mind to call Martin and ask him for a cup of tea and a Paracetamol. Hah. Good joke, Jon. Not after last night.

He took a deep breath, slowly picked up a lint from his skirt and cleared his throat. Maybe he could burry himself in statements until his headache goes away, and forget everything he has said to Tim last night. Yeah. That sounds like a good plan.

"Statement of Horace Dwayne regarding his experience with a strange coffin, Archway, London. Original statement given October 17th, 2013. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London. Statement beginns.

I knew my fiancé's job was not one of the legal kind. There was simply no way a person with no college education can make enough money as to afford as moving in together in our apartment, barely five months after we got engaged. Yet, I never mentioned it, and I think they were grateful because of that.

We first met a few years ago, on a dating app for LGBTQ+ people. It was a casual thing, we just hit each other up when we needed company, and never talked about anything in particular. Until one day, they asked me if I lived in Manchester and I said that yes, I did. They came to my place a few hours after that, rain soaked and bleeding from a wound on their torso.

That was the first time I met Morgan Doe in person, and it was me, clumsily stitching up something that looked like a kinfe wound on their side. I asked for some details, but Mo didn't tell me anything. They just thanked me for taking care of them because they couldn't go to the hospital. I remember ranting about how they should take better care of themselves, and how Mo looked at me in the eye before bending to kiss me. Or maybe I was the one bending. In that moment, though, it didn't matter: we were kissing, and after I started ignoring the wetness of their lips and how they hissed when I climbed on top of them, it was actually really good.

Mo asked me to be their boyfriend a month after that, and I said yes. We moved in my crappy, ranted apartment in Manchester, and lived there for almost a year before I asked them to marry me. I knew that we couldn't get married right away; I was between jobs at the moment, and even though I still wasn't sure what Mo actually did for a living, I knew that they will not be able to afford a wedding in a matter of months

Or that was what I thought then. One day, when I got home from a failed job interview, I found Mo in the kitchen, happily mumbling the lyrics of some song that was playing on the radio. I asked them what got them so cheery, and they just turned to face me and started dangling a set of keys in front of my eyes. Mo kissed me, and said that they managed finally get us a place for our own.

I knew that something was wrong then. I knew that something was painfully, terribly wrong, from how fast they managed to find us a place right after we got engaged, to the glint in their eyes, that mischievious glint, when they shared the news. I tried getting the information out of them, how did they actually manage to find us a place so fast, but Mo just shooshed me and said that I shouldn't worry, because they were going to give me the wedding of my dreams, and the life that I deserve.

A month after that, we were already settled in Archway, London. Apparently the apartment has been pretty cheap because of the loud neighbours, especially a woman who claimes to hear wasps in the attic. The first night we got there, I saw her in the garden of the apartment building, staring at the basement door. Her eyes were bloodshot red and she looked ill. When she turned her face straight towards me, I was too surprised to turn away. I think she smiled, but I don't remember her lifting the corners of her mouth. It felt like she was smiling, though.

I had a job now, in a shopping centre, selling vegetables. It wasn't much, but somehow we never dealt with money problems in our house. It seemed like the money never ended, in fact, and Mo told me more than once that I shouldn't be concerned about that. And I tried very hard to not be, but in the darkest of nights I still remembered that gilnt in their eyes when they showed me the key.

It was an usual evening when the coffin came. I was having my tea and reading a book that has made its appearence in my house, ignoring the weird noises the woman from upstairs, Jane something, made. There was a knock on the door, and I hoped it wasn't that creepy woman asking for some flour. I really wouldn't like to know what she did with it.

But it wasn't Jane. The two men sitting in my doorway were so tall I had to crack my neck to see their faces, obscured by some big caps. They spoke in some sort of accents, probably russian, and said they were from a delivery serivce and they had a package for Morgan Doe. Mo was not home at the moment, and chills were creeping up my back when one of them extended a clipboard for me to sign. I told them that Mo is my fiancé and that they're not home yet. The two men looked at each other, and one of them shrugged. I signed the papers and the two placed the big box in my kitchen, the first room of the apartment, and left without a word. I only assumed that the package was already paid.

I didn't know what it was, but if Mo has ordered something for the house they would have told me. I thought that maybe it was something for work, and that thought made me feel unwell. I called Mo, but they didn't pick up. I only thought they were busy, and I eyed the big box suspiciously. I went back in the living room for my tea, and I got back to the kitchen with it. It couldn't be something from work, I thought, work doesn't deliver such big packages. So I opened the box.

The shock I felt when I saw the wooden box inside, the coffin inside, made me take a step back and stumble into the table, spilling the tea. It was a coffin, an adult sized coffin, and a pretty new one from appearence. Well, except for the words "DO NOT OPEN" scribbled in the wood. That was not the strangest thing, though, but the fact that it was chained up so heavily it seemed to hold a living person, not a wooden box.

I called Mo again. And again. I was so panicked I could barely breath, and they were not picking up. I couldn't afford to leave the room or lose sight of the coffin, who did not move, speak or gave any sort of clue about its origin or its content. I noticed the key attached to the chain, and that image made me laugh. There was a coffin in my kitchen, a chained up coffin, with a key! I was going crazy.

It was almost midnight when I felt like I couldn't stay awake any longer. I took the key and placed it in my back pocket, careful not to touch the wood or the chain too much. If it was a cursed object, I didn't want to be in more contact with it than I already was. Mo still hasn't came back; they do that sometimes, leave overnight, but they always give me a heads up at least a week before. Of course the only time they left without telling me was the same night that a strange coffin, probably with a very weird thing inside, made its way to our home.

I dreamt of bugs slowly crawling their way on my skin, through my ear and inside my brain, bitting and pinching it as if it was a sponge, whispering about the hive, its importance, its puropose. It was a very unusual dream for me, but when I woke up and found out that I wasn't in my bed anymore was even stranger. I was in the kitchen, in front of the coffin, with the key in my hand. The key from my work pants, which are in the drawer.

I never sleepwalked before, and to think that out of nowhere I was not only sleepwalking, but dreaming of bugs and searhing for things in my asleep state was impossible to understand. It was the middle of the night and I took out my phone to send Mo another message, begging them to come home. I don't know how I fell asleep afterwards, but I know that the key was on the nightstand where I put it before going to bed.

Mo came back that morning, and I found them in the kitchen, their back turned to me. They were staring at the coffin, and I slowly made my way towards them, anger and relief that they were okay starting up in my stomach. But they didn't turn towards me, not as I slammed the door on my way inside. They jusy sat there, and stared. It took me only a moment to realize they were crying, and Mo has never cried as long as I know.

They turned towards me, their cheeks stained with tears, and hugged me. There was no word shared between us as we sat there, in front of the coffin, Mo crying softly on my shoulder. I think I understood them better in that morning then I did in the entire time I knew them.

Our lives for the next few days has been like that: staring at the coffin for sometimes hours on end, waiting for it to make a move, and then quietly chatting about what we did that day. We have got used to it, too. Mo placed it in our storage closet that we never even used, and it fit perfectly. Both of us tried to ignore the little tapping from inside when he touched it. I think we both convinced ourselved it was just in our imagination.

When the first rain came, it was during the nighttime. I'm a very heavy sleeper so I usually don't awake unless somebody hits me with something, but the noise from that night woke me up. Mo's side of the bed was empty, and the bedside table's drawer was open, with the key for the coffin missing. My heart skipped a beat, and I ran for the kitchen, bursting through the door.

There was a moaning coming from the storage closet, and the door was opened. As I scrambeled for the light bulb, I realized that the moaning was almost musical. When I turned the lights on, the moaning hasn't stopped, but grew even louder. The door to the wooden casket was open, the light glinting off the chains mockingly.

I took a deep breath, and started screaming for Mo. I didn't dare leave the kitchen, not with the casket open, not when I didn't know where my partner was and if they got in there. I realized they must've been the one who opened it. They might have had went there every night, and this time, with that awful moaning, was too much for them. They gave up.

I'm not sure when I fell to the ground, a mass of sobs and pained screams, covering my ears to stop the sound of moaning, but I know when a knock came at my door. I couldn't move, couldn't leave, and the person must have been so impatient they just bursted through the door. It was the two delivery man, accompanied by a guy with a very common face. I couldn't catch the man's name, too caught in the two delivery men as they closed the casket and chained it up again. The jackets they were wearing had the words "Breckon and Hope Delivery" written on the back.

The moaning only grew louder as they placed the coffin on a trolley to take it down the stairs easier. I barely managed to get on my feet and catch the other man's rain-soaked coat by the fringes of the sleeve.

"Why did you do that to them? How has Mo wronged you?" I asked, and I was not feeling angry, or empty, but rotten. As if my insides have been eaten by insects slowly and only now I can percieve the damage.

"Oh, child. They didn't do anything to me. All that happened was their own fault, their own making." at this the man stopped, gently extracted his hand from my grip, and looked around the apartment. "Nice place you've got here. I'm certain it was worth it."

I moved out the next week, when I started hearing weird insect noises. I never managed to get the door fixed, not that it mattered. The whole building burned up a few days after my departure, and I couldn't help but feel this was the perfect ending."

Jon paused for a few seconds there, thoughts flying around in his head, never focusing on just one. There was so much information here, so many points to connect. It felt like a conclussion was coming, and Jon hated that he wasn't able to see it fully because of his stupid, throbbing headache.

"Statement ends." he said, an afterthought. "Well, this is not only connected to Case #9982211, but may also be related to Case #0161203, the one of Martin's from almost a week ago. If that is true and the Jane who lives in Archway in this case is the same as the one that locked Martin in his apartment then... that would be very interesting, indeed. I should ask Sasha to make more research regarding this case. I... Recording ends."

Pressing the red button to stop the recording, Jon started scrubbing at his eyes before letting out a heavy sigh. It felt like he was caught in a web, all of these statemenets connected one way or another, with him caught right in the middle of it all and yet unable to see where they started and with whom they ended. He got up on unsteady feet and caught the edge of his desk in order to not lose balance. God. He would make his own fucking tea and get his own fucking Paracetamol-

The door to his office opened, and Martin came stumbling in. He was wiping sleep away from his eyes and masking a yawn at the same time with the back of his hand. He was also wearing one of Jon's baggy sweaters he has left in the room of the Archives Martin occupies now. The recorder turned itself on, unoticed by either of the man looking at each other.

"Oh, Gosh, Jon. God. What are you even doing here? It's not even 7 a.m. yet."

Jon didn't even try to mask the scowl on his face when he gave his snappy reply. "Some of us get to work on time, Martin."

Martin stopped wipping at his eyes, his glasses now slightly askew. Jon looked behind him and turned his hand into a fist. Why was he like this?

"Still, the Archives don't open for at least another half an hour. Jesus, Jon, I'm still in my pajamas."

"I can see that." Jon replyed, meaning to be bitter and mean, and hating the softness that managed to slip into his tone. He scowled harder in return when Martin looked down at himself and jumped.

"Ahm... I... my clothes. Are at cleaning. All of them. And you forgot this and I... meant... to give it back to you... not now I mean! But I didn't have anything else to wear and..."

"Martin. Stop making a fool of yourself. It's fine that... that sweater has a hole in it anyway."

"I sewed it." Martin said, matter of factly, his face still red and expression flustered.

"You did?" Jon asked, more surprised than anything, and when Martin started biting his lip Jon looked back at that spot above his head, that was now becoming his favourite part of the Archives.

"Yeah... It was nothing anyway and I didn't want to return it with the hole in it. Not that! Not that I am.. wearing it often or something."

"I said it's fine. The blue fits you better than it ever fitted me, anyway."

Martin looked at him in the eyes, something strong and fierce in his look, and Jon didn't turn his head this time. Neither of them said anything for a while, but then somebody coughed in the doorway and both of them jumped, the moment having vanished.

"Did we intrerrupt something?" said Sasha, sidestepping Martin and leaving some papers on Jon's desk. Tim, who was behind her, remained next to Martin and sent a big grin in Jon's direction. The scowl came back to the archivist’s features.

"No, nothing, what? Of course not. I was just... Jon, why are you holding onto the edge of the desk so tightly?"

Jon looked down at his hands and saw that they were white with effort. He stopped clenching them, and immediately started feeling dizzy once again. Sasha caught him before he could fall backwards, with an arm around his middle.

"Easy there, Jon. Are you okay?"

"Just.. feeling a little ill." Jon said, and Tim let out a bark of laughter that he quickly covered with a caugh.

"Godness, this is just awful, isn't it, Martin?" Tim said, making a show of his words and softly touching his heart with one hand. "I'm certain one of your famous teas would make him all better, don’t you think?"

Before Jon could give a snappy reply, Martin jumped slightly again, as if Tim's words just activated all of his "taking-care-of-people-via-tea" senses. He nodded eagerly and looked over to Jon, who was too tired to scowl in full force anymore.

"And a Paracetamol." Martin agreed, before leaving the office.

"He hasn't even asked me if I want some tea..." Sasha asked, more confused than offended. "What did you do to him during that staring contest, Jon?"

"What?" barked Jon, extracting himself from Sasha's hold and throwing himself on his desk chair. "I didn't do anything to him, thank you very much."

"Oh but there are so many things you'd like to do." Tim said, and anger started bubbling up in Jon's throat as he turned his eyes towards him. "You drank so much last night you can barely hold yourself up now, boss?" he asked, innocently.

"Tim, for the love of everything good on this planet, stop. This is all your fault."

"What is?" Sasha asked, confused.

"Your big crush on Martin is my fault, or the fact that you got so drunk you told me all about it is?" teased Tim, and Jon wanted to get off his chair and throw himself towards him, but didn’t.

"WHAT?" shouted Sasha, and both Jon and Tim shooshed her.

"I don't have... a crush on Martin. I just think that he's a good person, and a good person can't work in this place of horror stories and insufferable people. That would be you, Tim."

Tim laughed. "Copy that, boss. But I'm sure that if you just told him he would.."

"No. And that's final. I don't want to engage in a romantic relationship with anyone, especially not my assistants, especially when there's so much work to do here. I think I just found some important information in Prentiss' case."

"Jon... likes Martin..." mumbled Sasha, probably talking to herself. "You idiot!" she exclaimed, turning towards Jon. "He likes you too! Hell, he almost broke his legs running to make you tea. And wasn't that your sweater he was wearing, the one you lost some time ago, "my favourite article of clothing" or whatever?"

"It totally was." said Tim, ever the helpful.

"So do something about that, Jon! What are you waiting for?"

"For the two of you to get off my office and do some actual work. Leave, now."

Sasha sighed and Tim stuck out his tongue at him, telling him something about how we only have one life and we should make the most of it. As Jon drank the too-good tea Martin has made for him, he admitted to himself that Tim was right and that he really should do something about that. The more persistant thought, though, was the fact that he was never going out drinking with Tim, ever again. He did not see, nor hear when the tape record clicked itself shut back.

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vantaestummy · 5 years

Note

Maybe Taegi based on the new run episode? Like Yoongi gets bad motion sickness from the VR and Taehyung gets all protective and comforts him and lots of cuddles included, that'd be so cute!

A/N: YETH PLEZ! enjoy!!! and huge shoutout to my amazing friend who collaborated with me on this one @p3merge

TW/// Emeto

WORD COUNT: 3649

———————————————

To say that Yoongi was excited for this run episode was, well, not too far off from the truth.

The rapper wouldn’t admit it but, Yoongi has gamed a little every now and then. Jeongguk isn’t the only gamer of the group and neither is Taehyung, his overtly excited and yet dramatic boyfriend. (Whom Yoongi loves very much)

When Yoongi and Taehyung announced their relationship to the other boys, there was a variety of mixed reactions. Namjoon and Seokjin were happy for them but, nervous to say the least. The life of an idol was far from easy and not all fans were as understanding as they should be. They didn’t want the backlash of antis and critics to put a strain on their relationship, more specifically Taehyung who, was incredibly sensitive. Hoseok and Jimin were nearly shocked beyond belief at the revelation, but they couldnt help but to be overjoyed. They wanted nothing more than for their fellow band mates to be happy and to be loved.

Jeongguk was just confused as all hell but, happy nonetheless.

But overtime, the others got used to Yoongi and Taehyung’s more sensual banter, their lithe and feathery touches. Yoongi wasn’t one for PDA but Taehyung lives for it.

All this to say that Yoongi was really happy to just take a break and have fun, instead having to deal with the incessant dancing and practice time, even if it was to be filmed for the joy and entertainment of Armys.

Yoongi smiled as he faced the screen of the VCR. The game starts, the controllers on Yoongi’s hands causing the movement of the simulation, the POV adjusting and spinning with every turn of Yoongi’s head. Even though Yoongi’s platform wasn’t moving too crazy, he still felt every twist and turn of the skateboard. The onslaught of vibrant LED lights, as well as the vicious movement of the VR made Yoongi’s stomach tighten. First comes the dizziness at the excessive movement, then, the first wave of nausea washes over him. It seems like forever before finally, the game is finished and it’s the next person’s turn. Yoongi takes off the VR goggles.

“It makes you feel sick...” he mumbles as he steps down from the platform, joining the others on his team. Yoongi tries to shake off the queasiness that now boils his stomach contents to the brim.

Taehyung frowns at this, having been one of the only boys to have heard Yoongi. He approaches the rapper with a soft gaze, one that has the power to break an endless amount of hearts.

“Hey, what did you say?”

“It makes you feel sick.” He says just as quietly, rubbing at his stomach gently. He glances at Taehyung before giving him a small smile. “I....I’m fine.” He lies with haste, watching as Seokjin boards the platform with wide eyes, his jaw already dropped as he is ready to scream.

Taehyung hesitates a bit before placing a hand on the small of his boyfriend’s back. “Are you sure? I know we’re filming but, we can step out for a minute. The camera crew won’t mind. It’s not our turn anymore anyway.” He whispers, the brush of his lips tickling the shell of Yoongi’s ears. He should feel warm at the kind and comforting gesture, however, that warmth in the pit of the rapper’s stomach, as well as acid coating his throat, has nothing to do his loving boyfriend.

Yoongi looks at the game on the screen, the sight of the unsteady camera view making his stomach swirl. He swallows thickly, thinking that it’s best to just give in and leave so that he doesn’t make a mess on the set of their show. He looks up at Taehyung with wide, glossy eyes. “Y...yeah...I need some air.” He says, taking a few deep breaths through his nose. “Tae.....I must be getting old if I can’t even play a video game with getting nauseous.” He gave his boyfriend a tiny smile.

Taehyung laughs at the slight chuckle in Yoongi’s voice, one that is clearly forced and tight with nausea. He leads Yoongi out, mouthing a “he’s okay” to one of the camera men and rubbing gentle circles in the small of the rapper’s back. “Take deep breaths love. We’re almost out.” He says as he makes to take Yoongi to a secluded area in the back of the arcade.

A hiccup jolts Yoongi’s body as he grips his boyfriend’s wrist. “Taehyung”

Yoongi moans behind his hand and looks to the exit. It seemed like it was the length of a football field but in reality it was only a foot away. He looks at his boyfriend for a second and closes his eyes, stifling a tiny belch into his hand. “Excuse me...” he mumbles, breathing deeply. “I need fresh air. It’s stuffy in here.”

Taehyung’s skin freezes over, his heart hammering wildly in his chest. “Hyung what’s wrong? Are you gonna be sick baby?” Yoongi’s eyes shut tight, his lids crinkled as he struggles to keep his stomach where it belongs. “Just breathe, okay love? No one is out here.” Taehyung murmurs, the muggy air not doing much to ease the stickiness of Yoongi’s skin as well as the cramping of his stomach. “Just take a few deep breaths. We can go back in when you feel better. You know how these things go. They can cut and copy all the shots to make it look like we never left.” Taehyung chuckles lightly, despite the severity of the situation.

Yoongi nods as a small breeze ruffles both of their hair. He grunts as a particularly bad cramp clenches his tummy. “Tae....baby...” Yoongi suddenly pitches forward with a strong gag. He grabs the wall and turns away from Taehyung the best he can, not wanting his boyfriend to see him like this. His shoulder rolls with another unproductive gag. Taehyung stays by his side the entire time.

Yoongi wraps both arms around his aching middle with a hiccup. “Taehyung....it hurts...” his breath hitches before he produces another torrent of sick. Yoongi blindly reaches for Taehyung as an anchor to hold onto.

“Shhh. I know it hurts baby. You will feel better when you’re finished.” Taehyung says as his own eyes begin to burn. He hated seeing anybody in his band ill, but nothing hurts more than seeing his boyfriend in so much pain.

Taehyung takes a hold of Yoongi’s hand with a gentle squeeze.

Yoongi begins to cough, the hoarse sound still interrupted by gag after gag, however, nothing more comes up than a bit of spittle. Once the vomiting has tapered off completely, and Yoongi is left panting heavily towards the concrete, Taehyung makes to hold him upward, the rapper now trembling like a leaf in his grasp. Taehyung’s chest hurts at the very sight.

“You done my love?”

Yoongi seems to blink a few times, struggling to register all that’s happened even though his sour stomach is a painful reminder. He nods jerkily, a hand over his stomach and the other on Taehyung’s arm. “My stomach...” He mumbles, his face wet from the tears that have forced their way out. Taehyung sighs before pulling Yoongi into his chest.

“You’re okay baby. I’m right here.”

Yoongi sniffles with a shrill exhale of breath. He presses his cheek against his boyfriend’s chest, still a little nauseated but, not having much more to throw up. Taehyung pulls back to look down at Yoongi, softly grazing the apples of his heated cheeks so that he can wipe away the tears there.

“Oh hyung...” Taehyung can’t help but to be upset with all that’s happened. He wishes that Yoongi would have spoken up for things got this bad. He knows his limits, and if Yoongi wasn’t so strong headed than he wouldn’t have gotten sick.

“Hyung you have got to start being more honest. If you knew the game wasn’t going to make you feel well then you should have said something so you can sit out.”

Yoongi pouts, avoiding Taehyung’s firm gaze. “I didn’t want to ruin the show Tae.”

Taehyung sighs as he rubs a hand up and down Yoongi’s back. The rapper coils into him, still feeling a bit unwell as well as dizzy.

As Yoongi presses himself against Taehyung chest a intense wave of nausea hits him. “Shit.” he exclaims with a gag. He only manages to bring up a mouthful of bile.

“Taehyung....” Yoongi groans, leaning against his boyfriend. The beating of Taehyung’s heart helps calm him down somewhat. Taehyung’s heart breaks as he gently runs his fingers through Yoongi’s hair. “Honey, I’m so sorry that you feel terrible.” He kisses Yoongi’s forehead.

Yoongi moans, wincing at the foul taste in his mouth but, his cheeks sprout a pretty pink at the sensation of such a sweet and heartfelt kiss.. “I think... I think I’m done...” He mumbles, his lips pouted and wet. “But... But I don’t wanna go back inside...” Yoongi buries his face into Taehyung’s chest. The singer giggles as he peppers kisses into Yoongi’s hair.

“They’ll be wondering where we are love. You sure you don’t want to go back in? You won’t have to play the game anymore.”

Yoongi sighs before looking up at Taehyung with wide eyes. He looks worried, scared even. The look makes Taehyung’s heart wrench.

“Can you uhm... nevermind.” Taehyung snorts.

“You want me to stay with you?”

Yoongi looks to the ground sheepishly before nodding. Taehyung laughs, kissing Yoongi’s nose and making the rapper smile. He’s really missed that smile.

“No more VCR, how about that?”

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

A/N: @p3merge is the best! thank you guys for reading!

#bts sickfic #sick bts #sickfic #bts emeto #emeto #sick #caretaker!taehyung #sick!yoongi #sick!taegi #my fic #collab #tw emeto #tw vomit

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charmed1998fan · 5 years

Text

The Sick Faces of Cole

Receiving this request and being annoyed by The Three Faces of Phoebe inspired me to write a dumb little fanfic. I’m mostly just altering a few scenes from the episode so that Cole could be saved. Enjoy! :D

“What’s the matter?” Phoebe asked Cole, touching his face to comfort him.

“It’s nothing,” Cole insisted, pushing her away. “It’s just a migraine. I got to go.”

Cole started to walk away, but Phoebe stopped him because she was not blind and could see he was unwell. “If you want an aspirin, I can bring it to you,” she told him. “You don’t look good. You should go and lie down. Get some rest, okay?”

“I’m fine, I—”

“Don’t lie to me and act brave. I can see that you’re sick,” she replied. “Go to bed, Cole.”

Cole gave a nod and went to their bedroom.

“What’s going on?” Cole asked after a little girl ran past him, yelling for her grandmother.

“Hey, why aren’t you in bed anymore?” Phoebe asked, concerned.

Before Cole could answer, old Phoebe cut in, “Cole?” She stared at him for a moment, brows furrowed in confusion. “Why do you look so sick?”

“I’m—”

Once again, old Phoebe did not let him speak. “Is this the time I think it is? Is that why you look ill?”

Instead of answering, Cole asked his own question: “Who are you?”

“You know what, Cole?” present Phoebe cut in this time. “You should go back to bed, okay? You don’t look good. Come on.” She went over to him, stroked his back, then walked him downstairs.

“So who was that?” Cole asked her at the bottom of the stairs. Phoebe took in a breath but did not answer. “Is something wrong?”

“I don’t know,” Phoebe said.

“Who is the woman? And the kid? Tell me.”

“Okay.” Phoebe swallowed. “The truth is the old woman is my future self, and the little girl is my past self.”

“What?”

“Yeah. But you don’t worry about that. You just go to bed,” Phoebe said, opening the door to their bedroom.

“You want tell me how they got here?” Cole asked before going in.

“I cast a little spell,” she admitted.

“What spell?”

“To, um, hear my heart’s desire,” she said. It was not the full truth, but it was not a lie, either. “And I guess my past and future showed up to help me listen.”

“What desire did you want to hear?” Cole questioned.

“Well, that’s between me and… mes,” Phoebe said. “Like I said, don’t worry about it. Just go lie down and rest.”

“Well, then I don’t think they’re ever going to, because old Phoebe, she won’t tell me what’s wrong, but she has some grudge about Cole.”

“Talking about me?” Cole said as he walked into the living room.

“Oh, my gosh…” little Phoebe gasped when she saw him. “That man looks so ill! What’s wrong with him?”

Present Phoebe, Piper and Leo looked at Cole and nodded their heads. “She’s right, Cole,” Phoebe said. “You look even worse than this morning. Why did you get up again?”

“I was thirsty, I was coming to get more tea,” he explained.

Piper said, “I’ll make it for you.”

“Thanks.”

“You get back to bed before you make any of us sick, too,” she told him and made her way to the kitchen.

Phoebe looked at Cole and frowned. “Do you have a fever?” She touched his forehead with the back of her hand. “You do feel a little hot. And your eyes look so puffy… Maybe you should see a doctor.”

“No, no, it’s not that bad,” Cole lied because the Source inside him refused to let him tell the truth. “Don’t worry about me, really. What you should be worrying about is the, um, visitor who dropped in. Don’t you think you should help Paige find out who he was before he drops in again?”

“Right, we’ll do that,” Phoebe agreed. “Leo, ask old Phoebe to watch little Phoebe while we’re working on this. And you,” she said, turning back to Cole, “you’re going back to bed right now. You need to get plenty of rest when you’re sick.” After those words, she practically dragged him upstairs.

Cole was lying in bed, under a warm blanket, a steaming cup of tea on the nightstand on his left. He was already half-asleep when he heard a voice say, “Hello, Cole.” His eyes snapped open and he looked up to see old Phoebe walking in. She smiled in a rather smug way and closed the door behind her. “What’s the matter, Cole? Afraid I’ll tell the girls your secret?”

“Ah, no, you startled me,” Cole mumbled sleepily. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

Old Phoebe furrowed her brows when she saw just how sick he appeared. “Wow, you really don’t look good,” she said, more to herself than to Cole. She stood there, staring in silence, seemingly lost in thought.

“What do you want from me?” Cole asked her, breaking her thought.

Old Phoebe snorted. “My life back, for starters,” she told him.

“You look alive to me.”

“Well, sure, on the outside, I look more alive than you do right now,” she admitted.

In that moment, Cole felt another wave of pure evil from the Source wash over him. “I can fix that,” he said, but the tired look in his puffy eyes made his words sound less threatening than he intended.

“You can’t kill me, Cole,” she said, walking closer and sitting down on the edge of the bed. “And I’m not just saying that because you look like you’re suffering from a disease right now. You could never kill me. Even after the Source took you over, a piece of you always loved me.”

“That’s not always enough,” he said, then pulled the blanket up to his chin.

“Yes, it can be,” she told him. “I come from a different timeline, Cole. In my timeline, I didn’t realize how sick you appeared—looking at you now, I must have been blind, because, frankly, you look awful.”

He rolled his puffy, blood-shot eyes. “Thanks a lot.”

“You’re welcome. My point is, I didn’t realize you were the Source before our wedding. I married you, but it wasn’t long before my sisters and I had to vanquish you. …And then once more because you didn’t stay dead the first time.”

Cole frowned. “Why are you telling me this?”

Old Phoebe heaved a sigh. “Because I’ve spent most of my life wondering what would have happened if I had found out sooner,” she explained. “It could have been different for both of us.”

“Well, it’s too late for that now.”

“Maybe not,” she replied, shaking her head. “That’s why I’ve come to you first, before I risk everything. I have to know if there is a chance to save you.”

He turned his head away from her, clutching the blanket in his hand. “I’m not sure there is.”

“So you won’t even try?”

“I want to,” Cole said, his voice weak, “but he won’t let me, he’s too strong. I mean, look at me. I look like I must be contagious, but it’s not an illness, it’s the Source. The Source is making me look like this. And you said you didn’t notice anything in your timeline? How is that possible?”

“I think I needed stronger glasses,” she agreed. “But you know what? I’ll tell Phoebe the truth. She’s already noticed that you look unwell, I’ll tell her it’s because you’re possessed. I’ll convince her to save you, to save us. I’m going to go find her right now.”

“But if you change the future, Phoebe—”

“Don’t worry about anything, Cole,” she interrupted him. “Everything will be okay. You’re tired, go back to sleep.” Cole obediently closed his eyes. Old Phoebe smiled, stood up and left the room.

Old Phoebe came downstairs and found her present version as well as her sisters in the conservatory. “Phoebe, I need to talk to you,” she announced as she walked towards them.

“Have you finally decided to answer my questions?” present Phoebe asked.

Her future self nodded. “Yes, I have.”

“Finally!” Phoebe let out a breath of relief. “So do you think I should marry Cole or not?”

Old Phoebe sighed. “Yes, I think you should marry him, but—”

Poof!

Before old Phoebe could finish her sentence, she vanished into thin air.

Phoebe gasped. “What the f—”

“What just happened?” Paige asked.

Leo orbed in suddenly, eyes wide in panic. “Little Phoebe just vanished! I don’t know what happened. She was there one second, and the next she was gone.”

“Maybe the spell played out because old Phoebe answered the question?” Piper half-guessed, half-asked.

“But she was going to say something else,” Phoebe countered.

“Yeah, but you didn’t ask for anything else when you cast the spell,” Piper pointed out. “You only asked if you should marry Cole, and she told you you should. The spell fulfilled its purpose.”

“That makes sense,” Leo agreed.

“Ugh, but I wanna know what she was going to tell me,” Phoebe whined.

“Worry about that later,” Piper told her. “Right now, we still have a demon to find and vanquish.”

Phoebe came to her room to find her fiancé lying in bed awake. “Hey, you’re looking better now,” she said with a smile. His eyes were much less puffy and blood-shot than earlier. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” Cole answered. “I think resting really helped.”

“Good, I’m glad to hear that.” She sat down on the bed next to him, then said, “Cole, we need to talk.”

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“You tell me,” she replied. “I never told you why I cast that spell, did I?”

“I thought it was to hear your heart’s desire,” Cole said.

“It was to find out if I should marry you or not.”

“Oh.” He turned his eyes down for a moment, then looked back up at her. “And?”

Phoebe sighed. “My future self told me that I should,” she explained, “but she was about to tell me something else, too. I don’t know what it was because the spell played out and she vanished. All I know is that she said: ‘Yes, but.’ I didn’t get to hear the rest.” She leaned closer to him, then asked, “Do you have any idea what she could have been trying to say? Is there something that you’re not telling me? About you? Something that I don’t know?”

Cole took in a deep breath. The Source he had inside was screaming at him to say no, or even to keep his mouth shut and not say anything.

“Cole?”

“Yes,” Cole said. Thanks to the strength he had gathered by spending the whole day resting in bed, he finally managed to overpower the evil inside. “I’m possessed by the Source. I have been ever since I took his powers through the Hollow. That’s why I’ve been looking sick, because I’ve been trying to fight it and that’s hard.”

Phoebe stared at Cole for a few seconds, then said, “What the f—”

The Charmed Ones managed to write a spell that removed the Source of All Evil from Cole and made it disappear. Phoebe and Cole got married, had a couple of babies and lived happily ever after.

Fin

#Charmed #fan fiction #Phoebe Halliwell #Cole Turner #Phoebe and Cole #Piper Halliwell #Leo Wyatt #Paige Matthews #funny #s04e14 #OP #man this turned out longer than intended #but at least I got it out of my system #it really irritated me that nobody on the show seemed to notice how sickly Cole looked in the episode #and it is not just this episode #the whole plot where Cole is the Source and everyone is oblivious to it is irritating

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mentalcurls · 5 years

Text

11. Una scelta stupida

Episode 11! The end of S1! I almost can’t believe I made it, I’m emotional. So this is I think the longest of all my analysis/ramblings posts of season 1 (almost 6 pages on GDoc) so good luck to any all brave souls who read this! Hopefully you’ll find interesting my opinions on trophy husbands, pregnancy scares, new and old headcanons on Elia and Edoardo and boys seldom facing the same consequences girls do for their actions. And of course at the end you can find the results for the Bechdel test!

look how cute the girls look in Eva’s pjs!

ok, so Eva’s parents are not home and she has the house to herself… except she hesitated quite a bit the night before to tell the girls she was available to take Silvia (and the rest of them) in; that’s not Eva-like tbh, the only reason I can see to do that is if her parents had somehow found out about Edoardo and Silvia’s rendezvous and had forbidden Eva to have anyone over

Eva’s mom has such a cool job, from the way Eva tells it she’s a textile buyer or seller (aka the dream for me): she’s one of the people who decide a couple of years before we see the runways what will trend in fashion as far as materials and print go

Giorgio Brighi is a trophy husband and he knows it and enjoys the perks

Sana being the icon she is and not drinking coffee, but tea

Federica. Fede. Girl. You had a perfectly good cutting board to put the oranges you already squeezed on. Why didn’t you??

btw, ok, I get it, orange juice is breakfast-y, but it’s JUNE which is not exactly prime orange season. Why force it? Put Fede to prepare toast with jam, she can make a mess of crumbs

if I’d just woken up all disoriented like Silvia, Eleonora crossing her arms at me would have scared me like shit

still, bless Eleonora Sava and her no-nonsense approach to the following conversation: Silvia can’t not eat, nothing special happened the night before, there’s a question they need to ask, how sure is she, ok so they’ll go to the free clinic this week, all without paraphrasing or being vague or judging Silvia; that is definitely the best way she could have handled it

and it is of course so important that the two people who talk to Silvia the most are Eleonora and Sana, the one who she had the most problems with, the ones she’s the most convinced will hate her

look at her! Silvia apologizing for being unwell and throwing up because she made a fuss! She was not low maintenance, she was actually so high maintenance she couldn’t anything by herself, she inconvenienced all the girls and forced them to take care of her and she made a scene! She doesn’t really know, but of course she imagines she made a scene at the party, arriving drunk at the party and making a spectacle of herself, fainting, making people worry about her. It is the very worst thing for her because she simultaneously acted not at all like a proper, refined girl and was super high maintenance: the stuff of nightmares for her

and if this scene isn’t a mirror of the very first scene of the series, where Gio and Marti mocked Eva for her mark in the history test and Gio “tried” to cheer her up saying that she was good at other things (I’d link to my post about ep.1 for my thoughts on that, but Tumblr would disappear my post from tags so 🤷‍♀️): except here the girls tell Silvia she’s good at something that genuinely is hard work and she actually is good at and worked to be good at and makes her proud of herself, even though the atmosphere is still silly and light and there are still jokes to make her laugh

I so empathize with the girls all looking at one another when it’s time to ask Silvia is she’s pregnant cause none of them wants to say it

Silvia can’t find her voice to answer them verbally 💔

Sana putting her mug down and exhaling, Fede inhaling sharply, opening her mouth like she wants to say something but can’t find the words

Eva is the one to think to ask, albeit indirectly, if Silvia took a test and she’s the one who reads the test and recognizes what it means: so she is pretty familiar with pregnancy scares and all that goes with them apparently, but wait a minute, why, exactly? Eva??

and really, I’d like to take a minute and appreciate Eleonora Sava here, because for all that she insisted on Silvia having safe sex, on taking her to the free clinic the first time around, for all she was pretty pissed when Silvia told them she and Edo didn’t use a condom, now that she could say “I told you so” in a multitude of ways from the most direct to the most subtle, she says nothing and offers Silvia an actionable plan for the near future to make her feel supported and comfortable 👏👏👏

honestly, Eleonora being able to just say entire sentences backwards is cool yet slightly creepy

yeeees the theatre kids are back! I missed them 💖 (they’re so passionate and they don’t care what people think of them and they reach out to people! Fucking role models)

theatre girl keeps sneaking looks at Ele, is there some unrequited crushing going on here???

Ele’s thumbs up cracks me up

bless him, theatre guy really wants people to believe there are almost no spots left, he’s so cute

I just realized who theatre guy goes to harass after Eva and Eleonora: he yells “Santini!” and while that is a pretty common surname, I know deep in my heart of hearts that he’s talking to Elia, so Elia used to be in the theatre group too when his, Eva’s, Gio’s and Marti’s class was in Succursale NEW HEADCANON ACCEPTED you can now pry it from my cold dead hands

so Edo has been texting Ele for a couple of weeks and she hasn’t answered any of his texts and, still, he waited at least ten days before trying to talk to her again: my headcanon that he thinks he’s some sort of mysterious romance novel guy a là Edward Cullen gets stronger and stronger (honestly, check out Brooding YA Hero on Twitter, half of the tweets are Edo, the other half are Nico when he’s trying to impress Marti. Honestly: these guys)

and again with that stupid “Eduardo” when they could have gone with gems such as Eriberto

his “Buongiorno, eh” that implies that she should have been the one to greet him first and she ignored him instead, even though he was standing behind her, find his perfect match in Ele’s “Wow” which shows exactly how impressed she is that he finally had the balls to at least actually talk to her face to face again

OMG the way he says her full name like he expects to get a prize or something for discovering it, like he expects her to be impressed and for that to woo her into his arms, instead of sounding borderline stalkerish

in fact, Eva is supremely unimpressed throughout the conversation

backwards compliments will get you nowhere Edo: if you tell her she’s smart, you don’t say she doesn’t show it the next minute (but again, this is a typical Brooding YA Hero move)

that “Everytime you say no to me, I only want you more” is straight out of some clichè romance novel like GOD, can you be more obvious Edo?

Ele’s unimpressed raised eyebrow gives me life

and when nothing else works, like any good asshole, Edoardo goes goes for simple shock value, goes for the thing that will make Ele look stupid and uptight and a jerk if she gets mad about it, goes for words she can’t have a rebuttal for, goes for fake vulnerability and kindness (as proven by the way he smiles smug like he knows exactly what he is doing), goes for physical attractiveness which can imply objectification and sexualization (especially when you think about the fact Edo complimented her intelligence but immediately backtracked a couple of line earlier)

Eva saved you there, Edoardo. Ele might have been taken aback for a second, but when she saw you smirking, she started gearing up for one hell of a roast and I honestly struggled to think how you would have survived another one

the girls just march into the doctor’s office unannounced???

Sana’s eyebrow raise at the doctor’s “Salam aleikum” is 💯💯💯

for realsies though, how sarcastic is that “Benissimo” from the doctor?? Like, she spent what I expect was an excruciating amount of time teaching Silvia how to put on a condom (based on how scared Silvia was of the fake dick she would have had to practice on) and now it seems she didn’t even use it? She’s over it

oh, but Ele and Sana have both been thinking bout this, they’ve planned how things will go for Silvia: in Ele’s mind how she’ll have to have an abortion, she doesn’t even need her parents permission since she’s 16 but at the same time she’s just 16 and the father is not in the picture as well as an asshole, she has the maturità next year and she can’t really handle a pregnancy and a newborn baby at the same time as school and her exams and the psychological aspects, and she has the beginning of an ED on top of all of that; Sana on the other hand is planning for Silvia keeping the baby, influenced by her being religious, but she’s a practical girl nonetheless and thinking of adoption I expect, then of how Silvia will have to face the music at home and at school and the girls will have to support her, but also of how a pregnancy might be in some ways good for her because it will make her have a completely different relationship with her body and food and boys and even with her family

and Silvia doesn’t speak. Silvia doesn’t have an opinion in this. She tried to “kill Edoardo’s baby” the previous week, but here she doesn’t speak, even when it is her body and potentially her baby on the line

the only thing she’s insistent about is that she took a test, even when the doctor is prescribing some actual medical tests (not saying pharmacy bought pregnancy tests aren’t accurate, but they can sometimes be wrong)

she’s just so resigned

Silvia and the other girls don’t seem to know what an ovulation test is?? But they were so well informed about contraceptives in ep.5! Fall of a myth

Silvia’s poor cousin who wants to have a baby but can’t check if she’s fertile so she can have sex at the right moment 😕

the relief on the other girls faces when the doctor says Silvia’s not pregnant

and the doctor is good, she saw right through Silvia and understood immediately what was the actual problem, but I’m kind of mad she didn’t say anything more than “You can’t live on love and air” to Silvia about eating better, she’s a doctor ffs

woman-on-a-mission-Eva is back and walking towards Marti, I’d be scared if I were you bby, she even wore the heavy boots to kick your ass better

aaand he tries to act like nothing’s wrong; Marti, did you really think you’d get away with it??

Eva is so impressed Marti called her to talk and all he talks about is Gio and not telling Gio about how he knew of Eva cheating and the mess he made

and I can’t even imagine how betrayed Eva feels right now: not only she finds out about more lies Gio told, but it is also confirmed that someone she relied on, someone she thought was on her side, at least back then, was not, ever

and I said it before, but Gio and Marti would happily take a bullet for one another, Eva was a bit naive there thinking Martino would side with her; sure, it turns out he didn’t exactly side with Gio for the last part of this story, acting in a self-serving way, but he sure as hell never really spared much thought to Eva

just so you know, I’m torn: half of me is like “he did all of that and now he has the nerve to CRY?” and wants to grab him and shake him out of stupid; the other half is going “my baby! my poor baby! OMG, this is breaking my heart make it stop” (S2 I blame you)

“un po’ un’infamata”/”a bit of a shitty thing” UN PO’? UN PO’???? (imagine me pulling a full Captain Raymond Holt reacting to Agent Rosa Diaz telling him he and his husband need to “bone”)

everytime Eva turns to Marti, then turns away, she gets more disbelieving and a piece of her heart breaks a bit more

and all the pieces fall into place, finally, so Eva finally feels like she has the full picture of when and how her life fell apart: she takes a step back while listening to Marti, look at it attentively, and she can’t help but pinpoint one specific moment as the one where it all went to hell

yes, great choice telling a kid with a mentally ill mother he’s a “psycho”

“It’ll sound absurd, but I never wanted to hurt you” YES IT DOES SOUND ABSURD AND I DON’T NEED PERMISSION FROM YOU TO THINK THAT MARTINO ALSO GO TO HELL

also, look who’s been taking lesson from bodice-ripper-clichès-spouter extraordinaire Edoardo Incanti *drumroll* Martino, and the pupil is already better than the master cause he’s far more convincing

and I can’t really begin to pretend to understand what goes through Eva’s head here, why she decides to joke and forgive Marti this quickly: is it because she’s seen the big picture and come to her decision and has decided thing would have come to this one way or another anyways? Is it because she’s gotten attached to the idea of Marti being into her and she’s planning to give him a chance, like she obviously does at the end of the year party? Is it honestly because she feels like it’s karma/the universe paying her back for how she hurt Laura? Is it because her and Marti were really close even before she dated Gio? (which makes only half sense to me since they’ve only known one another four year tops, and yeah, okay, it’s four years, but it’s also just four years)

that shot where Eva leans her head on Marti’s shoulder though. Poetic cinema.

and WHAT ARE THE ODDS? Gio is there

and like, why’s Gio so worried about justifying who he’s with, when he and Eva are on a pause??

also he’s in red again here with his brother. But he’s in dark green at Eva’s the next day, which is in his normal palette of cold colors

“There was a very real possibility you would’ve rejected me or that a mess would have happened.” and that’s it. The possibility of a mess never actually happened in Gio’s view of things, because he never really face much consequences of his cheating on his girlfriend: Laura dumped him, sure, but she made her peace with him, he still goes to her house even; his friends are still his friends and support his new relationship (Marti wanting to break them up is not because of the cheating, is because of his own reasons so it doesn’t count rn), no one really holds a grudge against him, he doesn’t have a bad reputation, he doesn’t feel insecure at all, actually going from girl to girl like that probably boosted his self esteemed and raised the opinion his friends have of him

and while with Canegallo Eva didn’t actually kiss him first, so at least she had that; with Gio she did, she kissed him first, so she probably feels like she deserved all the shit that happened to her

and really, these kids waiting for signs from the universe through playlists on shuffle, who do they think they are, Romeo and Juliet? (They probably do.) (They should have seen the break up coming then, though, cause Romeo and Juliet don’t really have a “ and they lived happily ever after”)

and finally Eva lies it all out on the table for him, all the thing he never fully understood she had to go through because of him, of them

and maybe this hurt him, but as Eva says, she’s been hurting for a whole year and he never got that, he never hurt, he never tried to really understand and support her, he was just same old Gio and a good boyfriend by his own standards, but I doubt he ever stopped to ask Eva what she really needed (and like, it’s fine. He is 16 years old, he’ a kid, he’s allowed to make mistakes, but he needs to be put face to face with them to see them and grow, and I love him so much anyways, he’s my favorite always)

on a less profound note, those shoes. They really look like a perfect Tumblr aesthetic pic when they hug and their feet are close, the Eva gets on her tiptoes

and I’d kind of forgotten how they show of the sex scene? again, like I said in ep.2, 7.6 Due ore and the red room scene in 8.5 Tu non sei di Milano are perfect and I love them and I wouldn’t change a thing, but it objectively true Evanni sex scenes are more “graphic” than Nicotino sex scenes

confirmed that staring contests are Evanni’s version of post sex-cuddles

Maria Sorgato is back! Look at her being a queen and rocking that black Gucci-esque top and playing MC

oh, God, Canegallo sounds like one of the guys who run the rides at local fairs and hypes up 13-year-olds to take those 5-for-the-price-of-4 deals on ride tickets

now, I’m Italian, I went to 4 end of the year parties during my 5 years of high school and we never, not once, did something so cheesy as this, nor did a 1995 song ever play at such a party, nor any Renato Zero song, and definitely not “I migliori anni della nostra vita” (which I’ve read someone call “somewhat of a hymn for Italian teenagers” and I was like W H A T? Where? When?) so I can say for sure this is terrible representation of Italian culture, but a cute-ish scene on its own

Alice waving to Eva, awww 💕

Gio waving to Eva, double awww 💕 + bonus Elia and Peccio hugging like there’s no tomorrow next to Gio 💕

Eva lately doesn’t have much time or patience for niceties with Marti, she goes straight to the point

woah, such enthusiasm from Marti at the news Eva is finally single!

awww but it’s because he’s a good friend, he’s worried about how she feels, if she’s hurting! (Ok this is me being bitter, he actually is a cutie about this)

what is Marti looking at when Ele is checking her phone? What draws him to the bar as fast as possible? Gio??

YASSS for surprise hugs and amends! Good for you Laura, you’re looking like a nicer person already without all those grudges

oh, Silvia’s dress is so cute, except why does it fit so poorly? The neckline is all skewed and the armhole gapes! It’s her Revenge dress™! She’s been planning her look for 3 weeks! It should be tailored for the gods!

on the other hand, look at Silvia walking out of the woods, both the real-but-fake ones that are part of the decor and the metaphorical ones of the last few months

and in fact, look, they make light of the incident at Alice’s friends party!

except then the monsters of months past (Edo) come visit and start looming over Silvia

Edoardo jumping over that fence thing to go talk to Silvia is 100% Olio Cuore romance novel clichè

Silvia actually takes a few step backwards as he get closer to talk to her, she’s honest to God scared of what he wants to tell her, she fully expects him to be there to make fun and humiliate her again

and then he kisses her on the cheek! Why? Dude, I went off William og in my previous discussions of your behaviour towards Silvia and that means you don’t want Silvia around you because she’s too clingy and you don’t want her to believe you have feelings for her: why kiss her on the cheek then? You apologized, you were nice, you could have just said “See you around at school next year” and be done with it, leave her without any delusions; instead you went for the one act that might give her hope she has some of your affection. Why? Is is your inner Harlequin hero taking control of your body? Is it just that you secretly enjoy having a harem of girls pining for you? (oh, soz, you do enjoy that, I’d forgotten)

look how excited Silvia is! She was expecting the worst and she got almost the best instead! Of course she’s enamoured with Edo all over again, he’s not even a monster anymore!

at least he says bye to Eva too

this party has been pretty amazing for Eva up till now, whereas it must have been so fucking stressful for poor Ele?! She has to manage Edoardo, both making sure he fulfills his promise and keeping him at bay re: their date, she has to find fricking Silvia and on top of that she finds gay porn on Marti’s phone

btw, how did that happen? Ok it’s in his favorites, but you don’t exactly see browser favorites from the phone app 🤔 girl you wanna tell me something? Were you planning some nasty surprise for him cause Eva told you he was the one who triggered the fight, the school-wide rumors, the whole mess with Gio? (Look at Ele hitting back for her girl, cause sure she’s into Eva but she also just wants her to be happy and Marti made her definitely not happy 😡 also Evanora always on my mind)

and then 30 seconds straight (lol) of Eva being baffled and confused and just generally shook

Bechdel test: this episode passes the test! The conversations that make it pass are the two conversations at Eva’s house in the morning, despite a brief mention of her dad and the almost-ever present ghost of Edoardo over Silvia, and the conversation at the free clinic with the doctor.

Thank you so much for sticking with me through this!

This post is part of my complete series of meta about Skam Italia season 1. If you’d like to read more of my thoughts about the other episodes, you can find the mastepost linked in the top bar on my blog under SKAMIT: EVA. Cheers!

#skam italia #eva brighi #skamit s1 #skamit meta #giovanni garau #martino rametta #silvia mirabella #eleonora sava #sana allagui #elia santini #federica cacciotti #edoardo incanti #federico canegallo #alice (skam italia)#skamit #a. writes #1x11 una scelta stupida

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vivace-joyous · 5 years

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The Umbrella Academy 1x01-03

okay, so I have been watching this new show cause y’all know I love me some group based narratives. And the premise feels very fun with lots of ways they can play around with it. It’s like Sense8 if Sense8 focused more on worldbuilding and constructing an overarching narrative to connect all the characters too. However, I find these two shows to be inverses of each other even though their premises are similar thematically. UA and S8 (how I will abbreviate them) seem to excel and stumble in a complementary fashion. Before I get too deep in what I mean, I should talk more about just the UA itself and my general impressions over the first 3 episodes.

OVERALL, it’s enjoyable. I feel like the world building and the over arching plot are the two main elements propelling me through the series. Which like... GOOD! That’s what is supposed to happen when watching a show. If you don’t like the story, watching the show feels like a task. But I am genuinely intrigued by the mystery of the show and what will happen next. Five: “The world will end in 8 days.” Vanya “I’ll put some coffee on then.” Solid way to end a pilot and leave me wanting more. Not just for the next episode, but that is a great way to kick off the first season. BOOM! The Hargreaves have to band together and stop the world end of the world. I just appreciate this because it gives a solid foundation for all other storylines to center around. It is something your brain can stay conscious of throughout each episode and I feel that is such a strong element and important element for a tv show to posses to be good.

Continuing with the writing, I think so far the pace is decent and the writing is competent from episode to episode. The less important, character-driven storylines are given weight but never take too much focus from the main plot. The dialogue is passable. It doesn’t have a very distinct personality to itself though. If the character is not eccentric themselves, then they probably won’t ever say anything interesting. Which ugh ehh. I just wish the dialogue called more intention to itself because that way the writers could infuse more character moments in fun little quibs. However, it does its job so I can’t complain.

But I will complain about the use of flashback in the show. The flashbacks feel more used to quickly establish something that is happening in the present day storyline than really be anything more than that. Which is.. like technically okay and the POINT of a flashback. But it is so cliche and I believe there are other, more unique ways to deliver information than just cutting to a flashback. Granted, I do love seeing then team as young teens fighting crime. That’s super cool and I wish the show showed more of that. Cause MY GOD does this show need some more ACTION scenes in it.

I feel like my biggest problem in the first 3 episodes is that the action feels second to the drama and that totally needs to be reversed. I’m so sorry, but outside of whatever Five is doing, all the other individual character storylines are so fucking boring. I don’t care what any of them do when it doesn’t relate to the main plot. I think that’s why I like Diego’s character cause his whole thing is ABOUT the main plot. I mean, I feel like the show will deliver in terms of action. It’s clear that more insane elements will get thrown in and the filmmakers do like the demonstrate the special powers in fun ways. So I am excited to see what action scenes will come up. I just think overall the show needs more cause the melodrama kinda sorta makes the episodes drag. Like, why is Diego constantly in his fight clothes but he has only been in 2 fight scenes? And Five has like what 3 or 4 in just the first 3 episodes?

And MY GOD DO I HATE HOW THIS SHOW IS SHOT!!!!!!!!!!!! UGH the cinematography is fucking crap. I hate how it is lit. I hate how the director decided to compose the shots. I hate how there appears to be this like.... haze fliter???? on everything??? Like every scene looks cloudy. It’s like supersaturated. I don’t like it cause 1) I feel it does not help the tone of the show. I feel like we shouldn’t take everything so seriously and have more fun with the premise. But this smoky haze filter makes everything more somber and I think it bumps with most of what actually happens on the show. And 2) it genuinely makes it harder to make out expressions in the actor’s faces. Ugh fire the DP. They are doing a terrible job.

Let’s talk about the individual characters:

1) Luther. Hate him. Boring white man. Why is he “the leader of the family” after the dad has passed? Like he has not a single interesting aspect about himself. I am honestly so bored every time he talks. And it doesn’t help with the fact that the actor’s head is way too small for the illusion they are trying to create for the character. It’s like “Yeah, let’s put a stale ass, tiny ass white man head on this GIANT 7 foot muscle clad body. He just looks bizarre cause his face says “5′11″ and toned” but his body is that of a bodybuilder. I just wish they found an actor who is just massive like that already for the show. The ridiculous costume they have him in honestly takes me out of it for a bit. And it doesn’t help that they actor isn’t really trying to do anything with the character. Luther says lines. Luther is strong. That’s about it. I will say that despite him being “Number 1″ and “the leader of the family” the show hasn’t given him that much screen time and we still don’t know much about him at all. Which I really appreciate cause it is giving a lot of other (more interesting) characters necessary focus and thus makes getting through Luther scenes that much easier. I don’t know need to learn more about it. Just have him be strong in a corner.

2) Diego. MY FUTURE HUSBAND!!!!!! HE IS SO BEAUTIFUL!!!!!!!! I WILL SUCK THE SOUL OUT OF HIS DICK AND ASS HE IS SO FINE OMG yeah badass martial artist who throws knives and has a bit of an anger management problem. I am SMITTEN! I mean eww why the fuck does he have to be straight and keep hitting on that one detective. Honestly, ugh I hate that he is straight. It’s boring and unoriginal. It would have been neat for him to be asexual. He is good looking so people assume that he would be a lady killer. But he is WAY too obsessed with fighitng crime that he literally doesn’t pay attention to his own sexuality. But WAHTEVER! The queer character has to be the eccentric one with the drug problem alkfhadlskfadslkfbdskh ANYWAYS I like hos Diego adds a healthy amount of doubt amongst the group. In terms of constructing group dynamics, he is a lancer AKA the one always playing devil’s advocate. I think he adds a valuable perspective to the team and it will be interesting to see how the family will solve problems with integration of Diego’s help. I don’t like how the show handle showing the relationship between Diego and Mom/ Grace. But I will dive more into that when I talk about the flashbacks.

3) Allison. My god is she boring. But like, in the perspective in how she is an actress, yet doesn’t act like an actress. I mean, yes some actors can act like “normal people” but like... most actors don’t. I say this as someone who lives in LA and knows actors. They have BIG PERSONALITIES. They like to be KNOWN! However, Allison just feels way too subdued and “normal”. Like, okay she must have pursued an acting career of her own violation. So she must be a person who loves attention and strives for their chance to be in the spotlight. Everything needs to revolve around them. But that’s not Allison. She isn’t really anything. She is concerned about her daughter... if feel like that’s the only real thing we have learned about her so far. I wish her narrative had an angle about her being attention seeking. During the scene when all the siblings were reading Vanya’s autobigraphy, the voiceover cut to Allison when the VO mentioned attention seeking. Which, if that is an aspect of Allison’s character, then SHOW it to us. Have her do SOMETHING besides give creepy incest bedroom eyes to Luther.

4) Klaus. Finally, an interesting character! His powers are unique yet have a direct influence on how his personality is shaped. His is a drug addict because dead people are constantly trying to talk to him. Kinda sorta metaphor for the mentally unwell and how they abuse drugs because “It makes the voices go away”. They just have a lot of things they can do with him and the writers know this. They obviously have some extra fun when writing him. I just wish the other characters were a lot more sympathetic towards him. Like.... maybe try and talk to him about his drug problem? Rather than patronize it literally every single time you talk to him. SERIOUSLY every single scene Klaus is in with one of his siblings, they always HAVE to mention his drug problem AND THEN scold him for it. Like............ that’s not very constructive? Like at all! But I guess that’s just how some families are to one another. Also, it is very interesting to see how they are handling Robert Sheehan’s performance in UA compared to Misfits. In Misfits, he has a tendency to devour each scene he was in, to the point where he felt like the central character of that show. But Nathan was such a great character, that often times you didn’t mind how he would steamroll over others because it was done in such an entertaining way. But in the UA, the director’s have chosen to use Robert Sheehan’s signature eccentric style to flavour the scenes, rather than change the tone of the scene altogether (unlike how they used Nathan in Misfits). Anyways, I am most intrigued to see what they will do with his character.

5) Five. I don’t have too much to say about him because I feel like there is a lot more to be discovered about this character. Overall, I like the concept around the character and tbh he gets some of the best scenes in the first 3 episodes. I am truly impressed with the actor portraying this character. I think he is doing quite a great job in giving us the nuances of the character. A 58-year-old trapped in the body of a 13-year-old. Like, I get that. I see that. It works and I am here for it.

6) Ben. WOW so the one Asian one is dead and barely gets any lines. Ugh okay. Really REALLY want to learn more about him. Really intrigued with how he died to begin with. Hopefully the show shares this story element in an interesting way that connects to the main plot in a way other than just thematically.

7) Vanya. I.... I wanna hold my tongue about her. Cause she is obviously the audience perspective character for this world. So there isn’t much to say about her besides her being a tool to help the audience get integrated into the show’s world. I just... I gotta wait cause I feel like they are going to do something cool with her character and I don’t wanna make any.... undeserved assumptions. I just want more from her which like... I guess is a good thing?

#the umbrella academy #Imma try and do reviews for this show #but it probably won't be episode by episode like I did with Sense8 #netflix #review #tv show

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lunarlooroo · 6 years

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Prompt by @kawaiireinacita : Also, building off the ficlet where Heather reveals her pregnancy, could you do one that follows Heather's pregnancy in moments up to her giving birth (in Sev's POV) with him being all overprotective and a whole lotta angst and fluff?

So, I know it’s been a while since my last prompt ficlet, but my exams are finally over, so yay! I’ll hopefully be returning to my schedule of one per week, so please be patient if you’ve submitted a prompt and it hasn’t been written.

Now, this is gonna be a long one, to make up for my long absence. Hope you guys enjoy! I think I got cavities just writing this. Please let me know what you guys think!

First Month:

Severus exited the en suite after his shower, towelling his hair meticulously. Heather was still abed and he was amused to see that she had burrowed into the warm space he had left when he woke. Her eyelids lifted just a little when he walked over to the wardrobe.

“Mmh, this is a nice sight to wake to,” she slurred as she reluctantly sat up, stretching. Her nightdress slipped a little over her shoulder, revealing tempting bare skin.

“Indeed,” he agreed. It wasn’t often he that his wife remained asleep even after he left the bed. She was quite a light sleeper, like himself, and they usually woke within seconds of each other. Her movements were sluggish as she hauled herself off the mattress.

It had been a tiring week, with a flurry of sudden orders due to an emerging strain of Wizard’s Flu. They’d spent hours upon hours frantically trying to adjust the potion to tackle the illness. They couldn’t rest yet, however, as they needed to produce more of the rapidly-diminishing stock. They had sent the formula to the other apothecaries as well, but supply was still being far outstripped by demand.

Severus lowered his head accommodatingly as Heather padded up to him and brushed an affectionate kiss on his cheek. He smiled fondly, reciprocating the action. She caressed his torso, sighing, before extricating herself from his hold to go wash up. They had work to do after all.

Grimacing lightly, he started dressing himself for the day. He was certainly not relishing the thought of dealing with frenetic parents arguing over the small supply of potion they had. It was a difficult brew, taking the better half of the day for one cauldron which would only yield 8 doses. Understandable, given that this particular strain of flu was remarkably aggressive. Already the children’s ward at St Mungo’s was filled to bursting, with other wards opening up to take in the excess. Fortunately, it seemed that those of age were quite immune to it.

When Heather emerged, fresh from her morning ablutions, she was frowning. Concerned, he asked, “Is something the matter?”

She wrinkled her brow as she retrieved her own clothes and put them on. “Not exactly. I just feel sort of…off today.”

“Are you ill?” He immediately stepped up to her and tilted her face up, as if he could see any sickness she had by looking closely. Would she be the first adult to contract the accursed flu? She had certainly had worse luck than this.

She shook her head and smiled comfortingly. “No, it’s not the flu. I’m not feeling sick, just- just, off-kilter, I suppose that’s the word. I’m sure it’s nothing. Maybe I’m just tired.”

Worried, but trusting that she knew herself best, Severus nodded. “The moment you feel unwell, please see a healer. Merlin knows what would happen if you somehow managed to get infected by the flu.”

“You worry too much,” Heather teased, laughing. “I’ll be fine. We’re too busy now for me to take a break just because I feel a little odd.”

Severus knew the stubborn woman wouldn’t let herself rest even if she were dead on her feet. Not when there were so many children in need of their help. He would simply have to keep a close eye on her for now.

~~~

Second Month:

Glaring daggers into the man’s back, Severus had to restrain himself from breaking something. Warren Brookes was the bane of his existence, he was sure of it.

Now, Severus did not want to be the type of man that forbade his wife from talking to other men. He refused to be that brutish. Heather was hardly one to lay back and placidly take someone else’s orders, in any case. She was her own person and could do what she wished. Just because they were married did not give him the right to control her actions, no matter what many of the older generation Purebloods thought.

However, he was a veryjealous man, and he absolutely loathedBrookes. How could he not, when Heather lit up every time the man stepped into the shop, when they shared little inside jokes he was not privy to, when she seemed to be hiding something from him?

At this point, Severus was half-convinced she might be having an affair with the dastardly man, if not for the fact that he knew she was loyal enough not to stray – and cunning enough to conceal such things better, besides.

Nevertheless, he did not interfere. He knew Heather was not one to make friends very easily. Oh, she was generally well-liked, but she was wary of new people and slow to trust. He would not ruin this for her, no matter how much he disliked Brookes.

Not only that, he did not wish to upset Heather, not when she seemed to still be recovering from her brief illness. She claimed to have recovered entirely already, but she still had the occasional bout of poor appetite and lethargy. They let as soon as they came, however, which he wasn’t sure was worrying or relieving. At least she was getting enough nutrition in between these episodes, having seen her down three hearty servings of cottage pie the night before.

Perhaps the stress of having Heather unwell was making him more paranoid, seeing things that weren’t there. Perhaps Brookes was simply a good friend, one whom Heather had just ‘clicked’ with. Perhaps there was nothing to be concerned about.

Perhaps.

~~~

Third Month:

Severus came to consciousness slowly. He was lying on his back, with Heather tucked up against his side and her face turned into the crook of his neck. It was comfortably warm under the duvet and he could feel Heather’s slow, even breaths against his skin.

Thankfully, it had been a peaceful night. No nightmares from Heather. He was glad, as his wife sorely needed the rest. She had been having them frequently in the past few weeks, something she said was due to the hormonal fluctuations in pregnancy.

Pregnancy.

He still found it difficult to believe, and some part of him still expected to be rudely awoken from this dream to find himself in Hogwarts’ infirmary, learning that Nagini’s venom had more hallucinogenic activity than previously thought.

All his life, he would never have imagined that he could have this. A warm home, a loving wife, and now, a beloved child on the way.

Thinking again of how Heather had broken the news to him, his mouth tilted downwards in a chagrined frown. How could he have believed her capable of infidelity? He was still angry with himself for it, mostly because he had hurt Heather with his wild imaginings. He had done her a disservice with his lack of faith, and he could only hope to make it up to her every day going forward. Because she had stayed, which was more than he deserved, truly.

The darling woman would surely berate him for such thoughts.

He slid a hand down to rest on her abdomen, where their child lay safely within. There was a noticeable bump, though nothing that could not be easily hidden by robes. It had been a marvellous day when they realised she was showing. Though he felt that every single moment was very much a momentous achievement.

Suddenly, it felt like if his life held any worth, then it was to protect this dear little one. Protect the both of them. Not that Heather normally needed any protection, for she could take care of herself more than well enough. Pregnancy was difficult on the body, however, and a sizeable portion of Heather’s energy and magic would go into nurturing the foetus.

Unconsciously, his hand began stroking circles into Heather’s skin. She shifted a little, humming lowly. “S’nice.”

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” He frowned. Heather needed all the rest she could get.

She shook her head. It felt almost like she was nuzzling into him, as her face was still pressed to his neck. He couldn’t help but smile at the feeling.

“M’fine. Don’t worry so much.” She groped around blindly, eventually managing to find his hand and link their fingers right above the bump on her stomach.

Severus closed his eyes, basking in the intimacy and contentedness.

“Hey, Sev’rus?” she asked. He made an enquiring noise in reply, to which she giggled lightly at, feeling the vibrations. “What do you think about starting to tell people?”

He thought about it for a while. It was a good time. They were soon leaving the first trimester, where the danger was highest. “If you would like to.”

“Yes, I think it’s time. The baby’s growing rather quickly, and soon I’ll be too large to hide. I’d really rather we be the ones to tell people than my stomach.”

“Of course,” he agreed. There was little he would not agree with Heather about these days. “Though it would be amusing to let people know that way as well.”

“Could we tell Hadrian first?” Her voice had gone very quiet, as if he could say no to such an innocent request.

“Whatever you want,” he promised. “I assume you would like to inform your twins next?” He felt her nod.

“Then maybe we could tell Minerva?” She pulled away then, but only slightly, so she could look up into his eyes. She was grinning in excitement at the thought of sharing the news.

“Yes, that would be acceptable.” He could see the twinkle in the old cat’s eyes now, something she had no doubt learnt from Albus’ meddling portrait.

“Then…” she trailed off uncertainly. He squeezed her handed encouragingly. He would do his best to accommodate her every desire. “Could we tell Sirius and Remus? Maybe have them over for dinner?”

Even that.

Sighing, he bent slightly to touched his forehead to hers. “I suppose I could, if that is what you want.”

Beaming, Heather leant up to peck his lips chastely. “Perfect.”

~~~

Fourth Month:

Heather was vomiting into the toilet again. Severus held her hair back as he rubbed her back soothingly. Her morning sickness had not abated with the beginning of the second trimester, instead increasing in intensity. She insisted that everything was fine, however. It worried him greatly, and he was this close to simply carrying Heather to Brookes’ clinic for a check-up. Indeed, he was thatworried.

He had a warm washcloth ready once she was done purging her lunch. Gently cleaning her face, he then picked her up and brought her to their bed. It was a testament to how nauseous she felt that she made no protest at the treatment. She looked frightfully pale and small on their sheets, and for a moment all he could feel was dread. She looked close to simply fading away.

“Please, let’s go see a healer,” he all but begged. Heather was stubbornly insisting that morning sickness was a normal symptom, but this just seemed like too much. She didn’t seem to be getting any nutrition, with how much she was throwing up.

“I’m fine, Severus. I’ll just rest for a short while.” The words were barely out her mouth before she was nodding off.

His gaze hardened as he came to a decision. If he could not persuade Heather, then he would bring someone who could.

With purpose, he strode to their floo and threw some powder into the fire. He called out his intended location and waited until a familiar face came into view.

“Molly, I have a request to ask of you.” The Weasley matriarch was sure to be able to talk sense into his obstinate wife.

The older witch looked rather surprised at his words. “Oh, Severus! What is it that you need? Is it Heather?”

He nodded. “Yes, her morning sickness has gotten much worse recently, and yet she refuses to see a healer. I would appreciate it greatly if you could talk some sense into her.” Heather might listen to Molly, if only because of the woman’s sheer amount of experience in this area.

Molly frowned in disapproval. “That girl, much too stubborn for her own good. Step back, I’m coming through.”

He had no time to say that Heather was currently indisposed before Molly stepped out of the floo.

“Now, tell me more. You say her morning sickness has been bad?”

Severus explained the situation to the woman, emphasising the increased lethargy and episodes of vomiting. She had a thoughtful expression on her face, before asking to see Heather. They both went up to the bedroom where Heather was still resting and Molly’s eyes widened upon seeing her.

“How far along did you say she was again?”

“14 weeks,” he stated, bemused.

“14? Hmm, I see,” Molly muttered, eying Heather’s abdomen critically. “When was your last check-up with Healer Brookes?”

“Three weeks ago. We are due again in two weeks, but I have been trying to persuade Heather to go sooner.”

“Well, I think I know what is happening here.” Molly turned back and gestured for him to walk out of the room with her. She then closed the door behind her and looked at him with her hands on her hips. “I think it’s best you get an appointment with Healer Brookes as soon as possible, just to make sure.”

He clenched his fists, darting a quick glance at the door. “What is the problem? Is it serious?”

At that, Molly let out a soft chuckle. “Don’t you fret too much. I wouldn’t exactly call it a problem. Though it israther serious.”

“What is it?” he asked again, not enjoying the cryptic words.

“Oh, don’t worry. Heather isn’t in danger. Just go see the healer and ask for a more detailed scan. He’ll be able to confirm it. If that girl is still too stubborn to listen, just get the healer to come for a home visit.”

He agreed to her words, forcing a thankful smile onto his face as he escorted her to the fireplace. Molly patted his arm fondly.

“Well, take care, you two. I’ll need to get going. This is more knitting than I expected, but I’ll get it done with a little effort!”

Without getting to ask about the puzzling statement, the woman disappeared through the floo.

~~~

Fifth Month:

When Severus saw Heather come into the laboratory, he quickly put his cauldrons under stasis and threw on a protective bubble while he was at it. He had immediately ceased brewing anything that could remotely harm babies or pregnant women after learning about the pregnancy of course, but one could never be too cautious.

“Heather was there something you needed?” He crossed the room to put an arm around Heather’s waist, supporting her weight. She rolled her eyes and swatted his arm to get him to stop.

“Oh, stop that. I’m pregnant, not an invalid, I can walk perfectly fine on my own. I just came to brew a potion.”

Staring dolefully at her, he tried to convey his disapproval through his eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that! I’m going out of my mind with boredom! All I’ve done today is wake up, have you walk me to the bathroom then down the stairs, eat the breakfast you cooked then sat in the living room reading a book that you insisted on bringing to me! Now all I want to do is brew something. Anything. Surely there’s something we need to stock up on?”

“It’s not safe,” he tried to reason, “What if something happened?”

“Nothingwill happen,” she said, exasperated, “Warren said that I could brew so long as I didn’t use any of the ingredients on his list. And you all but threw them out that very day. Thankfully Fred and George agreed to store all that in their labs for now. They were worth quite a lot, you know.”

He gathered her in his arms. “Nothing is worth as much as you and the children.” Healer Brookes had confirmed that they were having twins – and sons, at that – at their last booking, proving Molly’s suspicions accurate. Brookes had explained that morning sickness tended to be stronger in multiple pregnancies and increased the dose of potion for the nausea.

Severus hadn’t thought it was possible to be so deliriously happy, yet nervewrackingly anxious at the same time. He had been using a fork yesterday and briefly wondered about chucking them all out because they could pose a danger. It had long gone past ridiculous by now, but for the life of him he could not seem to stop worrying.

“You sweet-talker you,” Heather cooed, smiling. “But don’t think you can distract me. I’ve been itching to brew, and nothing you say is going to stop me.”

“But-”

“Nothing!” she said loudly, evading his hands with surprising agility for someone in her state and heading to an empty workbench. Her equipment was levitating towards her to line themselves up obediently for her use. He hovered over her the entire time, worried about her overextending her magic, about her getting too tired, about her accidentally slipping up and causing an explosion. She was only making a simple Muscle Tonic – something she had learnt in fourth year – but stranger things had happened.

“You know,” she said, efficiently chopping up some ginger root, “this isn’t exactly difficult or dangerous. I’m sure I’ll be fine managing this on my own.”

Grimacing, he acquiesced and returned to his own work. He still kept half his attention on her, however, in case she needed anything at all. A sharp noise of surprise had him immediately going to check up on her.

“What is the matter? Have you hurt yourself?” He skimmed his hands over her arms to look for any cuts or burns.

“I’m fine!” she assured, batting him away. “I just accidentally bumped against the table. I’m not used to all this extra luggage in the front.” She patted her stomach fondly, as if underscoring the danger of this endeavour to Severus.

“Perhaps you should go have some rest. I will finish this up and get it to you as quickly as possible. Has your back been bothering you again?” He summoned a chair for her to sit on as he tried to coax her away from the workstation.

“Honestly, Severus, you’re overreacting! I feel perfectly alright! Now, just go back to what you were doing and leave me to- Oh!” Heather startled, hands flying to her abdomen as she hunched over slightly. Her face was a picture of shock.

Severus’ anxiety rose several notches and he urged his wife into the chair. “Heather, what’s wrong? Are you in pain? Should I floo the healer?” He was frantic with worry at the thought of something harming his wife and children.

“Shh! I’m trying to focus!”

He was all but vibrating in place, staring intently at Heather as she focussed on the baby bump. After seconds that felt like hours, he started to speak again when his wife lit up with a beaming smile and grabbed his hand to place where hers had been previously.

“What is-”

“Just hush and feel!” she said excitedly.

Frowning, he nevertheless quieted and tried what she said to. After a few moments after feeling rather foolish, he felt it.

Just a slight flutter. The barest hint, really.

It was almost enough to upend his entire world.

“That is…” he trailed off, awestruck. He looked up at Heather again, then quickly looked back down at her stomach.

“Yeah, that’s one of our little ones kicking,” Heather whispered, as if unwilling to shatter the moment by speaking too loudly. Then she jumped slightly. “And oh, looks like number two wants some attention too!” She gently guided his other hand to the other side of her stomach, where another hand or foot was nudging insistently.

He opened his mouth to say something, but found himself lacking the words. There wasn’t really any way something so trivial could describe the depth of his emotions at the moment.

Heather’s smile was soft, understanding, and he knew she was feeling the same.

~~~

Sixth Month:

“Say, Severus?”

Severus made an inquiring sound, looking up from the novel that they were in the middle of. She was sitting between his legs, with her back to his front so he could support the growing weight around her middle. The book was in her hands and he was reading over her shoulder. It was one of the few positions that soothed the annoying ache in her back.

She leant back so that her head rested on his shoulder and she could look up at him. “Do you think we should start thinking of names?”

He pondered over that. “Do you have any in mind?”

“Not exactly,” she said, slowly, “but that’s why we should start thinking about it!”

He raised an eyebrow at her knowingly. “I suppose you would like to name them after those Weasley twins of yours?”

Smiling sheepishly, she said, “I have thought of that, yes. But only if you’re okay with it!”

“I shudder to think of what sort of role model they will be to young, impressionable children, but I suppose that there are worse people to be named for.” The dratted twins had grown on him over the years. ‘Like fungi’, as they liked to put it. They were also unquestionably Heather’s closest and dearest friends. “We may as well name them godfathers while we are at it,” he tossed out casually.

“Really?” Her eyes widened. “You’re not just saying that for me, are you? Because I want you to be happy with this decision too.”

Despite those words, Severus could tell his wife quite favoured his suggestion. It was fortunate that he did as well. Fred and George Weasley were two men he could count on to protect and love their children, if not to provide a good influence.

“I am quite certain. However, if I find out that they’ve armed our children with any products that are not appropriate for their age, they will be the ones left bawling like infants.”

Laughing, she said, “I’ll be sure to tell them that.” Then she gasped. “Oh Salazar, I’ll be telling them they’re godparents! They’ll flip!”

Severus cleared his throat. “I believe you mentioned names?”

“Oh, yes!” She shook her head to get her focus back, “I really haven’t any solid ideas, but I was thinking that their first names should be their own, while their middle names can be Fred and George.”

He nodded. “Acceptable. Much less confusion this way as well.”

“Uh huh. This way they wouldn’t feel like they’re stuck in the shadow of someone else. They can be their own person. And they’ll be loved no matter what.”

Severus tightened his arms around Heather as she said this and buried his smile in her hair. Yes, that sounded perfect.

~~~

Seventh Month:

Severus had one of Heather’s hands in his grip as Brookes waved his wand over her gravid form. A parchment of results was produced from the tip of the healer’s wand.

“Well, how’s it looking Warren?” Heather asked, craning her neck to try and peek at the words.

Brookes hummed, making a few notes with his quill. “Everything seems to be in order. Nice strong heartbeats, positioned correctly, growing at a good pace. How are you feeling?”

“A little tired, but otherwise alright. My magic’s gotten a tad wonky, but you mentioned it would happen.” She laughed, likely thinking of the way everything she’d picked up yesterday getting spontaneously turned bright purple. Severus smirked in amusement at the memory. One of his black robes had been a victim of the incident, but it was simple enough to return all the items back to their original colour.

“And you’ve been getting enough rest?” he added, eyebrow raised expectantly.

“I’ve made sure of it,” Severus said, ignoring his wife’s narrowed eyes. She could be annoyed all she wanted, so long as she did not overexert herself.

“Good, good,” Brookes nodded, “any pains in your stomach?”

“No, just a lot of kicking.”

“Brilliant!” Brookes then grew sombre. “Now, there’s something I have to discuss with the two of you.”

Immediately worried, Severus stiffened in his seat. Exchanging a glance with Heather, he asked the healer, “Is there a problem?”

“Well, it’s nothing serious,” Brookes reassured, “It has to do with the delivery. If all goes according to schedule, it should happen in about ten weeks. The babies are growing well, as I said. However, I am concerned that Heather’s pelvic bone will be too small to accommodate the birth.” The man brought out a diagram and pointed to one of the images. “See this? This part is the widest part of a baby’s head, which will have to pass through the pelvic outlet here,” he moved to point to another image. “With the babies’ current growth trajectory, however, I estimate that they will be too large to pass through Heather’s pelvic bone.”

Heather gasped and looked down, clutching her stomach. Severus frowned, knowing where her thoughts were likely heading. Her childhood had done a lot to stunt her growth. Neither of her parents had been short people, and were it not for those deplorable muggles, Heather would have ended up more well-built than she was.

“Is there something that can be done?” Severus asked the healer.

The man gave a comforting smile. “Yes, fortunately. There is a spell we can use to soften her pelvic bone temporarily. That way, it should not impede the delivery. There are also other options, such as vanishing the bone entirely, but that is not the first-line option we would choose as her pelvic organs and muscles might be damaged.”

“And this procedure is entirely safe for the babies?” Heather asked.

Severus shot her an exasperated look. Trust her to only ask after the children’s wellbeing. “This will be safe for Heather as well?” he added.

“Yes, it is quite safe. We use this quite often for small witches with large foetuses, such as half-giant children. Complications occur only in 5% of deliveries, most of them resulting in the mother requiring additional treatment. But they are quite easily resolved.” The man then handed them a pamphlet containing information on the spell and procedure. “Here, all the information you need is written here. You can both take this home and read it carefully. If you have any questions, I’m just a floo call away. Of course, we can also explore other options if that is what you wish.”

Severus took the leaflet, knowing he would be scrutinising every word in it, as well as looking into other sources to corroborate the information. The determined look in Heather’s eyes told him she was of the same mind.

He would not do anything to risk Heather and their children.

~~~

Eighth Month:

“SEVERUS!” Heather shouted, causing him to drop whatever he was holding to find her. His heart was beating out of his chest as images of Heather collapsed on the floor flashed through his mind. He slammed through the door of their bedroom to find Heather…staring at him over a catalogue?

He slumped in relief, striding up to his wife to place a fierce kiss in her hair. “You frightened me with your shout. I thought there was an emergency.”

“This isan emergency!” Heather waved the magazine in her hands frantically, “There’s only a month left till the little ones arrive, and I just realised that we haven’t bought anything at all! We need diapers and bottles and blankets and clothes – well, I know Mrs Weasley’s been knitting up a storm but she can’t possibly have made up two entire wardrobes – and toys and oh Merlin, we haven’t even set up the nursery-”

“Heather-”

“I cannot believeI haven’t prepared for this at all! I’m usually so much more organised than this! This pregnancy has really messed with my brain. Just the other day I forgot the ingredients for a Boil Cure. Can you imagine? A Boil Cure. Wait,” she shook her head, “I can’t get distracted. We need to go shopping now! There’s so much we need to get!”

Severus put a hand on Heather’s shoulder. “Calm, Heather. Breath.” Seeing her take a deep inhale, he nodded. “Good, now listen. Healer Brookes recommended that you get as much bed rest as possible. I do not think he would approve of a manic shopping trip at this point. If there is anything we need to get, we can look through the catalogue and get them owl ordered. Incidentally,” He coughed, averting his eyes. “I have prepared some things for the children’s arrival, so you do not have to worry about the nursery.”

“Wait, you set up the nursery already?” she asked incredulously, “How did I not know about it?”

“You have been rather distracted, love.” It might also have been the ward he had put up at the door to the nursery. Perhaps he had made the confounding element of it a tad toostrong, if Heather had forgotten entirely about the baby preparations. “Come, I was just putting the finishing touches on it.” He helped her off the bed and walked her to the next room. The door was still ajar from his panicked rush out of it.

He had had the room painted a calming blue, with white wispy clouds scattered all around, giving the impression of being in the sky. White carpeting lined the floor, soft enough to protect vulnerable young children from falls. There was a changing table, shelves for books and other items, even a rocking chair. The centrepiece of the room, however was the large ornate cot.

“This looks absolutely amazingSeverus! I can’t believe that you did all this!” She spun in a slow circle, taking in the entire room.

He reached down to pick up the plush lion he had dropped earlier in his haste. Making a show of rolling his eyes at the thing, he put it on the shelf. “I had some help. Molly told me the essentials. Your twins helped paint the room. Many of our friends gifted us various toys and books. And your brother…he helped me with the cot.”

He gestured for her to observed the cot more carefully. She was clearly confused, even as she ran her hand down the polished wood grain. As she looked closer at the designs on the bars, her eyes widened in shock.

“We made a trip to Godric’s Hollow and found that the cot remained mostly intact despite all these years. It took some work, but we managed to restore it to its original state.” Well, mostly. He traced the prancing animals with his eyes. A proud stag, a gentle doe, an excitable dog, a howling wolf. There used to be a tiny rat as well, be Hadrian had gladly blasted it off the wood.

“This cot was gifted to your parents by your paternal grandparents, you know. They’d had it custom made when Lily was pregnant with you. Then they personally charmed it with protective spells of all kinds.” He motioned towards the runes running down the sides of the cot’s legs.

“Oh, Severus…” Heather sounded overwhelmed a she continued to stare at her childhood cot. It was the very same one that her brother had been in when Voldemort attacked. Suddenly, he realised that this might not be a reminder she wanted around their children.

“If you dislike it, we can look through the catalogue and find another more one which is more suitable,” he said, worried that he had upset her.

“No!” she shouted suddenly. She stepped closer to the cot, almost protectively. “This one is perfect.” Then she smiled, her eyes shining. “You and Rian did a wonderful job with it. It looks brand new! And I can actually feel how strong the protective magic is in it.”

He sighed, relieved. “I am glad you like it.”

“I love it, thank you.” Heather hugged him, burrowing her face into his chest, a position made slightly awkward by her stomach. But it only served to make him smile. It felt like they were cradling their children between the both of them. She then looked up at him, a tender expression on her face. “I love you.”

He blinked a few times, suddenly feeling like there was dust in his eyes. “And I you.”

A sudden kick between their bodies made them smile. Heather grabbed his hand to put on her stomach. “And Papa and Mama love you, little ones! We can’t wait to meet you!”

~~~

Ninth Month:

“How about Francis and Grant?” Heather asked.

He shook his head immediately. “I had an uncle named Grant. Horrid man. Drank too much, hit too much, resembled Tobias too much. And I simply dislike the sound of Francis.”

She hummed, crossing using her pencil to cross out the options in her notebook.

“Fenris and Gordon?”

He shuddered. “One word. Greyback.”

Heather grimaced and cancelled the word forcefully. After a second, she also made another notation. Good, he didn’t like Gordon either. Heather took a few moments to breathe deeply and exhale slowly.

“Okay, then what do you think of Fenix and Griffin?”

Severus shot her a look. He let that be answer enough.

She rolled her eyes and continued. The little minx didn’t even make a show of striking the names off, likely because she had only said them to annoy him.

“Fine. Felix and Glenn?”

He paused at those. Considered. “Perhaps.”

Smiling, Heather nodded and circled the names.

“You should lie down. You look rather tired,” he admonished.

“I’m-”

“If you say ‘I’m fine’ or any variation of the phrase, so help me Salazar, I will restrain you to the bed.” Rather than be intimidated, the woman raised an eyebrow at him, daring him to try. It was an empty threat and they both knew it. He looked away, conceding the point.

“Warren said it would go faster if I sat up,” she said.

Severus narrowed his eyes. “Whatwould go faster?”

She sighed. “Labour, of course,” she said curtly. Her forehead wrinkled a little, a sign of her discomfort that he had up till now not registered.

He straightened in his seat, alarmed. His arms rose up to hover uselessly around his wife. “Labour?You’ve been in labour this whole time? For how long? Why did you not say anything? We need to go to the healer!”

She huffed. “Oh relax, Severus. It’s still the early stages. The contractions are still quite far apart. Warren will just send us back until there’s more progress.”

“He won’t, if he wishes to retain use of his limbs,” he growled.

“It’s too early to do anything,” she reiterated, “I just have to wait it out.”

“But you are in pain.” He felt utterly useless. He knew the process of delivery, of course. Brookes had explained it to the both of them weeks ago. Knowing of it and actually witnessing it happen were two rather different beasts, however.

For lack of something better to do, he supported Heather’s waist and massaged her back gently. She had an amused grin as she patted his hand comfortingly.

“Now, what about Flynn and Gerard?”

They continued to lobby about possible names. As time passed, Heather’s voice grew fainter and fainter. She even managed to doze off every so often. Severus got increasingly anxious, wondering when exactly his wife would be willing to go to the healer.

It must have been hours later when suddenly, Heather angled her head to face him. “Okay, I think it’s time.”

He was absolutely clueless to what had prompted her to say so, but he did not argue. Carefully, he helped her get to her feet and supported her as they made their way to the floo. Within moments, they were in the foyer of Saint Mungo’s.

How she was so calm about the whole situation, he had no idea. He was going out of his mind in worry, and there she was, humming in between her contractions as they were brought to the maternity wards.

Healer Brookes appeared just as a particularly strong contraction made Heather curse a little. Perhaps it was pure coincidence, perhaps some sort of innate healer’s instinct, but that was the moment when Heather’s waters broke.

What happened thereafter was a blur. Severus vaguely remembered mediwizards coming in to assist with the delivery, Heather’s faced scrunched up in pain, her hand gripping his just thisside of too tight. That hour or so was definitely one of the most terrifying of his life. Which was quite an achievement, considering what he had done during the wars.

At the end of it all, however, as he cradled his recently expanded family in his arms, what he felt was beyond words.

“I’m not doing that again for another few years,” Heather announced tiredly, even as she smiled adoringly at their newborns. “Voldemort’s Crucioshad nothing on that. Frankly, I’m now convinced that the spell was created by an angry mother to try and simulate the pains of childbirth.”

The delivery had been difficult on Heather’s body, even with the greatest efforts of the healer. He was in utter awe of her persistence and strength. “Thank you,�� he whispered fervently, stroking her cheek which was slightly pale from the blood loss.

She sighed. “You silly man. I couldn’t have done this without you. Quite literally.” Then she looked back to the two infants lying on her chest. Neither of them was able to tear their attention from the little ones for long. “I think I know what to name them.”

“Anything you want,” he promised. She had done all of the work, after all. He was quite willing to give her whatever she wished.

“This one,” she said, caressing their firstborn’s downy head, “will be Galen Fred Snape. And this one,” she continued, resting a gentle hand on their other son’s back, “Finian George Snape.”

“It suits them,” he agreed. Heather beamed in joy, tilting her head up to ask for a kiss. He acquiesced readily.

At that very moment, everything was just perfect.

~~~

Bonus, one week later:

Twin cries pierced the calm night, startling both Heather and Severus awake. His wife turned to look at him balefully, uttering three words that made him reconsider his words one week ago.

“It’s your turn.”

Hope you guys enjoyed that! The second month one was in the same time period as a previous ficlet and the mention about inviting Sirius and Remus over for dinner in the third month refers to another ficlet as well.

I know I copped out a little for the birth scene, but I didn’t really wanna get into graphic details.

#WHfP #prompt ficlets

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stubert87 · 4 years

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I've felt the need to return to my old safe space to put something out into the universe. I've not been in a great place now for at least a month. What started as a mild wobble in confidence & self esteem, has escalated into a severe depressive episode.

I woke up this time 4 weeks ago and didn't want to be alive anymore. I should add some context to that. I didn't want to kill myself, quite the opposite. But all my desire to walk this earth and breathe another breath was gone. As soon as the thought of not wanting to be here appeared in my head, it very quickly made itself comfortable and became a very unwelcome guest. Every day became a nightmare, my head a battlefield on which what little willpower I felt I had slogged it out with the army of negative ideations that had dug their trenches and made their stand.

I think I'd forgotten what this felt like. The overwhelming urge to have the ground swallow you and never be bothered by anything again. The panicked reaction in your head, telling you to hide from the seemingly very real and immeasurable threat. But where do you hide from your own thoughts? How do you run from yourself?

It's been a long four weeks and I'm not sure I'm out of the woods yet. I'm more coasting along the treeline, enjoying the fresh air and sunlight again. I think at this point it's definitely worth reflecting on how I ended up here. How I wound up on the brink of a very dangerous existential crisis.

Between September last year and January this year I unfortunately lost 2 family members. Added to that the trip of a lifetime I'd saved and counted down to went a bit let's tong and it all got a bit much. I listened to my little brain and took some time off. Spending it with family and close friends. Connecting with the amazing support I have in my life. And then 2 months later lockdown happened and all that wonderful support felt like it had been ripped away. It just felt like one knock after another that leaves an already hurting soul, and vulnerable psyche very open to further blows.

Living by yourself, isolated from friends and family back home, having nothing but work to go to day in, day out, whilst managing the fear of this new pandemic, and the multitude of "what ifs" it generates... I know I'm not the only one to have found themselves in this position. The vast majority of humans aren't hard wired to live in isolation, and definitely not an isolation that generates so much fear and anxiety.

But lockdown restrictions have eased now, why is it that my latest episode has hit me now? Why not back in April or May when the lockdown was at its most stringent? The only reasoning I can settle on, is that we've entered the dreaded "new normal". The vast majority of us entered lockdown hoping to spend a few months in isolation and exit lockdown in a joyous victory over covid and go back to our normality. When the fact is we've slowly trickled back out of our anxiety ridden hideaways, into a world of new rules and behaviours and guess what... More anxiety and stress. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, if you will. Nothing about how we're living now is normal. Every masked individual, plastic screen and social distancing sign pushing us further into a state of anxiety and worry.

Even if you're not worried about your own health. There's the worry of the health of those close to you, as well as worrying how people see you, will people judge you for not wearing a mask, how will someone react if you get too close, and the wondering when all this will be over and you can just hug your nana again. An endless lists of what's, what ifs, how's, and why's. It's a draining cycle for all involved. The human fight or flight mechanism isn't the best of states to be living in for a prolonged period of time, and the effects of this long term stress and worry are more and more evident in wider society.

I always try to keep talking to those around me. And I've tried talking my way through this current episode I've found myself in, but what I found petrified me. In an effort to reach out, to talk, to try and steady myself and get help from those around me, I found far too many people in very unsettled states of mind. It added another overwhelming feeling to this all. It seemed like no one was in a position to help, because they themselves needed help. This evidence of living under social distancing induced anxiety was showing on so many people I spoke to. There is no doubt in my mind that there is a good portion of our population on the verge, if not in the midst of a mental health crisis and it worries me deeply.

The biggest thing I can say to you all if you suspect someone close to you isn't in a great state of mental wellbeing and you feel in a position to help is simple. Act. Don't talk. People think that talking is the answer, and to some extent it is. But "it's time to talk" is a years old slogan and we need to progress past this. In order to talk, we that are suffering need help getting un-stuck. Un-stuck from the negative ideations, the constant rumination, and the sluggish brain-fog that consumes us. Sometimes the best way to do that is to kick start us into action. Don't just tell the person you're concerned about that you're here if you need them. Be there. Tell them (don't ask) that you're taking them for a walk, or to dinner, or popping round for a cuppa. The jolt to the system these acts give often helps awaken the senses, and just the same as a tiny spark can set away a blazing inferno, the smallest bit of positivity can snowball and help the person to find their footing on their path again. Be prepared to be cancelled on. But as someone who's been here before, I ask you not to give up on them if they do cancel. For some people the whole process of meeting up can feel too overwhelming and they will try cancelling or making excuses. Gently persevere with them, they're not being inconsiderate, they just can't quite face it yet.

One thing I'd love people to normalise is talking about coping mechanisms. A rather pretentious way of saying "things you do to keep you going". I seem to auto-deploy them these days when I get unwell. I like to meditate and practice yoga to try and calm the mind and align it to my breathing and be present in my body. I try to read. I make sure I make social plans, but also make sure I take time out away from the hustle and bustle. I have to say they're working a treat. Which may sound a bit hypocritical considering the fact I've said I've had one of the worst depressive episodes I've had in a long time, but the last time I felt like this was 2014 and I had to go on medication. Here I am finding myself in a better place without medical intervention, having managed through my coping mechanisms, and some brilliant people who arrived just as I needed them, whether they knew it or not.

It's a hard hard task managing your mental health. For some of us, it will literally be our life's work. But growth doesn't come from never having experienced difficulties, it comes from seeing those difficulties and working through them. I for one am always looking to grow, which means I must expect further difficulties on the way. My biggest offering to those needing help through their poor mental health is to explore and find your coping mechanisms. Even if that's just picking one person a day to phone or text or making one social plan each day. I can never ever stress the importance of some kind of physical activity. It's no surprise my mental wellbeing took an upwards turn the second I re-engaged with my yoga and started cycling again. The mind and body aren't separate entities. They should both be nurtured together.

Before I sign off, I want to say that if anyone reading this is wondering why I never reached out to you, I'm sorry. It's not that I don't value you, or see you as someone who can help. My brain was in a thoroughly irrational state, and didn't make rational choices. But I want you to know I got there. And I will always get there. I know nothing else but to fight this.

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confusedsiewmai · 7 years

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Ocean Petals

Writer’s note: So this is my first fanfic EVER and I’m super duper nervous so here goes nothing! (Please don’t come to my house to murder me.) I’ll probably write a part 2 but in the end, I’ll also see how this ends up. I genuinely hope you guys will enjoy this. Enough! Shall we begin?

Special thanks to:

@suitboxers (Cos’ this only started because I saw this beautiful fanart of Hanahaki!Keith)

@flaming-potato-arson (For encouraging me and giving advice that did help)

@mrscarocat (For being there while I whined like an anxious kid and for reading this so many times to help me improve and calm my ass down)

Summary: Keith thought he had smothered those feelings for a certain blue paladin. But they had taken roots where they shouldn’t and began smothering him instead. That was how flowers bloomed within his chest.

(Or: the Hanahaki!Klance AU where Keith suffers)

The first sign was the difficulty breathing.

While practising in the training deck, Keith’s breathing grew laboured far too quickly but he ignored the weight in his chest. He would never allow himself to be defeated by a level 5 fight simulator just because he was feeling a little unwell. However, the longer he pressed on, the tighter his chest grew. Each breath sent a sharp pain through his lungs and every strike became harder and harder to deflect. He found himself reacting too slowly, too slowly.

Keith huffed, squinting in effort. The Gladiator bot’s movements merged into a distorted blur, its sword a confusing flurry of movements. When it pulled its arm back, he brought his shield to his left, blocking it.

Under the attacks rained down in rapid succession, Keith was left wheezing loudly, exhausted and dizzy. With a grunt, he swung his bayard. The bot parried it effortlessly and sent him reeling back.

The world spun into a kaleidoscope of colours. The paladin shook his head to clear it. His sight refocused and he saw the Gladiator bot bringing its sword down on him. He barely managed to step aside in time. In the process, he tripped over his own foot and stumbled. Before he could regain his balance, the bot made a stab at him. Keith dodged again but the sword had nicked his right arm and he was hissing in pain.

He needed to keep up. He has to keep up. He cannot-

Everything went black.

Keith was jolted back to his senses when his side slammed onto the floor with a resounding bang. His vision was swimming and he couldn’t even tell up from down. The bot charged towards him. Keith opened his mouth to speak but all that came out was a pathetic wheeze.

“End simulation! End simulation!” A voice pierced through the dark fog in his head. Relief washed over him upon hearing the sound of the bot deactivating. Then, he heard someone run towards him. “Holy crow! Are you okay?”

Shakily, Keith looked up and he saw patches of brown and blue. After blinking several times, he found himself gazing into a familiar pair of blue orbs, which were brimmed with worry. He avoided staring into those too-beautiful eyes and croaked an automatic response, “Yeah.”

His chest actually still felt tight. Or maybe it felt even tighter. His left shoulder was throbbing in dull pain and his mind was fuzzy and thick. Keith pressed a hand to the side of his head and groaned as he got up. A sharp pain impaled his chest and he fell back. He expected his head to slam onto the floor but Lance had caught him quickly enough.

Lance winced. “Nope. You’re not. We’re going to the sick bay.”

Grunting in extreme effort, Keith tried to sit up again and Lance supported him. Then, he was helped onto his feet. His legs were weak and wobbled like a newborn fawn’s and the world tilted this way and that, but firm yet gentle hands guided him as he swayed and pushed forward stubbornly.

An invisible yet impossibly soft pillow smothered the already suffocating boy when Lance sighed with a worried smile, his eyebrows quirking in a half-frown-half-smirk that only he could pull off. “Slow down, mullet man.”

***

Then, Keith knew he was screwed.

Blue petals sat wetly in his pale palm and he stared at them blankly before glaring at them. Hanahaki disease. The disease that leeched off unrequited love and made flowers bloom in your lungs, slowly, slowly clogging up your chest and suffocating you, leading you to your eventual, beautiful, tragic death. The world just loved finding ways to rub salt into Keith’s wounds and put him through torture. And the thing that pissed Keith off wasn’t that he’s going to die. He didn’t have anyone waiting for him back on Earth anyway. Instead, it’s the fact that just when he thought that he had, at long last, incinerated his useless feelings for Lance, shoved them into a hole, and buried them under sixty feet of dirt, they come back to haunt him in the form of flowers. Fucking flowers.

And of course they’d be blue. They could never be anything else but the colour of the sea. His ocean eyes were dark and deep, inviting you to sink into the cool embrace of their waters. Inviting even Keith. Keith, whose first experience with the sea was of nearly drowning in it. Keith, who did not know then that the sea was not his territory and was never for him to touch. Keith, who had been impulsive as usual and rushed right into the waters, not seeing past its surface, and plunging straight into the deep unknown.

But he wouldn’t allow himself to do that. Not again.

Crushing the petals in his hands, he threw them in the bin. Even as he trudged out of his room and made his way down the hallway to join the others for breakfast, the beautiful dark blue stayed like a stubborn stain in his mind. There was no way he would let others know about this because they would definitely keep him away from his paladin duties. Voltron needed its paladin and there was an entire universe for him to defend. He couldn’t let some flower disease stop him.

“Ah, Keith!” Coran said as he sauntered over, breaking Keith’s train of thoughts. “I was about to get you. It is rather unusual that you are late today.” After a second or two, his cheery smile turned to one of concern. “Is anything the matter?”

“What? No! Nothing at all!” Why was he so bad at lying? “Everything’s great,” Keith mumbled.

Coran looked at him and the boy deflated under his stare, squirming. At last, Coran shrugged. “I will not press you any further, Keith. However,” his eyes smiled, not unlike those of a concerned grandfather, “if you do need someone to talk to, you can always come to me.” He pat Keith’s shoulder and turned back around while Keith followed after. “We better hurry. Lance was incredibly determined to finish Hunk’s cooking before you arrived. Shiro may not be able to hold him off much longer.”

Keith stiffened. His chest tightened just at the mention of Lance and he didn’t quite know if it was just the flowers anymore. All he knew was that he was going to pretend that everything was fine and that he wasn’t dying from some flower-growing, unrequited-love illness. It would drag the team down and the fact that he had a crush on Lance in the first place will be the team joke for the rest of his short miserable life. And he wouldn’t be able to handle Lance’s cocky teasing. He would never let anyone know.

This stupid pining disease will have to kill him first.

***

Lance sang as he danced in joy. “Keith cannot swim! Keith cannot swim!”

From the opposite side of the lounge, Pidge yelled at him to shut up but Lance didn’t hear her over his triumph so she just groaned and put on her headphones, casting Keith a pitying glance.

In disbelief, Lance shook his head. “Why did you even go to the pool that time? You can’t even swim!”

Keith’s face was burning. In a useless attempt to hide his embarrassment, he crossed his arms and scowled. “So what if I can’t?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Lance said, flicking his head. “Except I’m a thousand times better than you because I can swim and you can’t. Just wait till we have a beach episode! I’ll be showing off my awesome moves while you hang onto your lame float.”

Keith couldn’t help but imagine floating idly in the sea with an inner tube while watching Lance in his swimming trunks, basking in the sea with a thrilled grin, his eyes bright with pure exuberance as sunlight glistens off his wet brown skin. Keith’s stomach fluttered and his lips quirked up. He caught himself and huffed loudly. “Why will there be a beach episode?”

“You know,” Lance said, his hands waving as he waggled his eyebrows. “The classic beach episode.” When Keith didn’t seem to get it, Lance sighed dramatically. “How can anyone be this uncultured! You can just bob around in the sea or whatever, I will be capturing the hearts of all my fans.” He made a finger gun and winked at an imaginary alien, clicking his tongue.

A crushing wave of bitterness crashed over Keith, overwhelming him. “You’re being an idiot. No one likes someone just because they can swim,” he said acidly, glaring, “Lance.”

Lance’s eyes widened for a second before they narrowed. “Oh, really? You’re just jealous because no one likes you and your stupid mullet.”

Keith opened his mouth to yell at him. But he couldn’t make a sound. He couldn’t breathe. His hands flew to his neck. Leaning forward, Keith’s face turned red with effort. He gagged and choked, unable to cough.

“K-Keith?!”

His chest was too tight, never relenting to allow his lungs expand. A hand grasping his neck and the other clenched in a tight fist, Keith keeled over. His body was quivering like a leaf and everything seemed to tumble. He had to breathe but no air was entering his lungs. Hunching over the floor, he lurched forward and felt hands catch him.

From the corner of his eyes, Keith saw Pidge rush over. “Keith! What’s happening?” Her voice was high-pitched and scared as she knelt beside Keith, shaking him violently.

“He’s choking!”

“On what?”

“I don’t know!” Lance shouted. Then, he was kneeling and hitting Keith’s back. “Cough it out! Cough it out!”

Desperately, he tried to gasp but the oxygen never reached his lungs. Face turning blue, he convulsed, his eyes wide with fear and alarm.

Pidge darted out of the room and screamed, “I’ll go get help!”

Lance continued to hammer Keith’s back. In his agony, Keith twisted and turned his body. Then, he managed a slight cough and tasted metal. Breathing should be easier but no matter how hard Keith tried, every breath was cut short by gagging. A violent barking cough tore through his throat.

A spasm of coughs rocked his body. At last, he could just breathe, even if just a little. But a single word Lance muttered was enough to rob the life that he was barely clinging to with his cold shaking hands. “Roses?”

Flowers had bloomed from his lips, blue petals now speckled with red, and had fallen to the floor. His stomach sank.

“Blood! Is this… Hanahaki? Keith?”

Mortified, Keith tried to push him away. But he was weak and his hands could only grasp Lance’s shoulder. He pressed his forehead against his own arm and squeezed his eyes closed. Lance massaged his palms and said, “You’re gonna be okay. Hang in there. You’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.”

Thin arms went under his body and he was raised slightly before being set back down clumsily when Keith began to writhe in agony. “Shoot,” Lance hissed through clenched teeth. As he whispered reassurances into his ears, he cradled Keith and rubbed his back in circles as the quivering boy gasped in short shuddering breaths.

Keith must have lost consciousness at some point because the next thing he knew, a cool metal hand against his cheek and someone slapping him awake. Like a man breaking through the surface of a stormy sea, he abruptly sucked in a large gulp of air.

“He’s breathing again!” Shiro shouted.

Pidge yelled heart-wrenchingly, “Keith!”

“Thank god!” Lance said from beside him. “You’re breathing! Hey, buddy. Breathe, okay? Take deep breaths. You’re gonna be fine.”

Although Keith tried to breathe deeply, his lungs could only take in shallow rasping breaths. Someone stroke his arm soothingly and he focused on the feeling of the warm hand against his cold clammy skin.

Breathing was a little easier now. His eyes fluttered open with effort. Tears blurred his vision (had he been crying?) and puddles of blue and red were scattered across the floor. He coughed feebly. A single blue petal floated down, tainted crimson. Then, his ribs wouldn’t move again.

Shiro’s arms wrapped around Keith and he was lifted. Air wouldn’t fill his lungs and there was no relief. The flowers and feelings clogged up his airway, and his chest tightened further.

Shiro was the first to notice this and shook him in alarm. “He’s not breathing again!”

Instantly, Pidge let out a scared whine and Lance’s panicked voice filled his head. “Quiznak!” A pair of ocean blue eyes looked into him and the lovesick boy found himself drowning in them again. Warm hands held his shivering ones and rubbed his knuckles and he gripped back. In spite of his apprehension, Lance forced himself to sound calm and assuring, “You’ll be okay. Breathe, breathe. Breathe for me—”

Finally, Keith managed to get a few breaths. “I-I can’t,” he whispered between coughs. “I can’t.” Sobs and hacks racked his drained, moribund body. His chest squeezed out a terrified whimper. “Lance…”

Darkness engulfed him once more.

#klance #klangst #keith kogane #lance mcclain #voltron fanfiction #hanahaki #voltron #vld #fanfic #hanahaki!keith #Ocean Petals #hm... does anyone even read this?#well #sorry heheheh...#my writing #im gonna rant but this is canon divergent and i have no idea when this could possibly take place in the current canon timeline #there may be a part two #but the pain may increase #i kinda love pain #dont worry though i wont kill off keith im not THAT cruel #I'll see where this oneshot-ish thing can take me and we'll see though #im gonna create an ao3 account soon so till then this doesnt have a link but i think i'll reblog again with the link when i finally get an a #ccount #first ever fanfic wow thats crazy right?#im an anxious shy kid #ahhhhhh!! if this ends up too badly im gonna erase my existence #or at least this post #okok bye bye bye

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eurello · 4 years

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Media Diet, Week of April 26th

Overall, this week was better. I stopped lying in bed for like an hour every morning reading Instagram, and I finally unfollowed the stupid influencer. But I still spent a good bit of time on the couch in the afternoons looking at Twitter.

Sunday, April 26th:

Slept in for about 45 minutes, listened to The Whisperer In Darkness while coffee and etc. Just barely glanced at Twitter and Instagram, I think I’m basically over my social media problem already! One of the funniest people on Twitter is Elizabeth Hackett. I did spend some time on Feedly, mostly reading Sam Irby’s recent Judge Mathis recaps, and Edith Zimmerman’s Drawing Links newsletter.

As soon as I was feeling good about this, I wasted a straight up hour reading bullshit on Reddit.

Read 2 chapters each of High Growth Handbook and Moral Clarity, interspersed with a bit of checking social media and distractedly googling random things, and unfortunately a lot of dozing off.

Listened to Caravan, The Mcllwraith Statements, and Unwell while cooking/eating/cleaning up after dinner

Finished “At the Landing” and read “Shower of Gold,” which is the first story of my favorite Welty volume, The Golden Apples, which is excellent, and then read more The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane, which is quite bad.

Monday, April 27th:

I only slept in for 20 minutes, and then I got right up and got to work.

Really busy work day, no real breaks, and at the end of it, I collapsed onto the couch and spent well over two hours browsing social media, watching John Mulaney clips on YouTube, and convincing myself I was too exhausted even to put on sunscreen, much less go running.

While getting ready for work/cooking dinner/eating/cleaning up, etc.: Boston Harbor Horror, Marigold’s Ghosts, A Voice From Darkness, Weeping Cedars, The Tower, Old Gods of Appalachia, and The Antique Shop. This whole podcast list is like comic ghost stories, but it’s not that I’m especially interested in that genre. I just like well-done (which many of these aren’t) ongoing fictional podcasts and they’re hard to find, and I found a list of ones specific to this type, so I’ve been listening to those. A lot of them aren’t great, and I’ve been slowly dropping them, but I really like The Tower so far — it’s original and interesting.

More Joshua

Listened to Fetch the Bolt Cutters while I did some admin sort of stuff.

The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane

Tuesday, April 28th:

Listened to Sawbones and By the Book while getting ready and getting ready for bed and etc.

Was sick, so watched the rest of season 2 of Big Little Lies and then watched a bunch of standup comedy on YouTube while I ate takeout and fell asleep.

Wednesday, April 29th:

Listened to My Favorite Murder and Eating Alone in My Car while I did all the usual things.

Some Twitter and Instagram and Reddit breaks. I’ve now fully eliminated doing this in the morning, but I still waste a ton of time on it after work, especially this week since I’m feeling pretty crappy.

More Joshua

Listened to Fetch the Bolt Cutters while doing some writing.

Read a couple of essays online by Melissa Broder

The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane. Oof, so, so bad, just painful.

Thursday, April 30th:

Listened to Oh No Ross & Carrie

I spent like two hours after work lying on the couch watching standup comedy clips on YouTube, instead of going out for a run.

The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane

Friday, May 1st:

Listened to Do You Need a Ride, My Favorite Murder, Get Rich Nick, and Office Ladies during all the usual.

Finished The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane, read the first half of “June Recital” by Eudora Welty, and started Tales of the City by Armistead Maupin.

Saturday, May 2nd:

Listened to My Favorite Murder, All Killa No Filla, Radiolab, You’re Wrong About, another episode of one of the podcasts I was waiting to see if got funny and it didn’t so I unsubscribed, and Baby Geniuses. I go back and forth with Radiolab — I used to listen to all the NPR stuff, but I’m actually super turned off by this super sincere people-first smaltz podcasting that This American Life popularized. It was interesting for a minute, but it should only have lasted that long. I like Radiolab sometimes, but when it goes into “cultural moments,” it’s just so embarrassing, it’s like hipster Norman Rockwell. Anyway, I listened to all of this while doing all the usual stuff, plus also mowing the lawn.

Read the second half of “June Recital”

Read all of Sam Irby’s Judge Mathis recaps, which I had saved for Saturday night, and look, I could do a whole “heh heh this is what Saturday night in quarantine is like” thing, but that’d be a lie, because quarantine has nothing to do with me.

Watched the first episode of Succession since I’m still getting free HBO on Amazon. The pilot seems very ‘oh, this kind of thing again,’ but everyone says it turns into something very original and hilarious, so I plan to keep watching. I fear I am a Kendall, I try really hard at things and stress out about doing them right, and I’m usually not that good at anything. I show my work, I make nothing look effortless or sexy, I couldn’t be less fun.

Read “Sir Rabbit” by Welty and more Tales of the City.

#media diet #mostly podcasts

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valerie · 5 years

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TWITL – week seventeen – #AvengersEndgame #MakeItSweet #LeaveHerWild

Let’s start with the Make It Sweet concert!

my new baseball cap and my concert ticket

I had a VIP experience with Jordan Davis but it was cancelled due to illness. He was still able to perform for the concert and if I hadn’t known he wasn’t well, I might not have noticed.

Here’s my rundown of the concert:

Mitchell Tenpenny – WOW. Strong voice, great energy. I only knew a couple of his songs but I enjoyed them all, especially “Telling All My Secrets.”

Jordan Davis – I’ll admit that he was the main reason I wanted to go the concert and even though he was unwell, he gave it his all. I couldn’t help singing along to (almost) all his songs. He did a great job and I’m glad he powered through to perform. (He ended up cancelling Sunday’s performance at Stagecoach. Such a bummer!)

Old Dominion – They put on the best show! I LOVED every second they were on stage. I sang along to most of all their songs and at one point the microphone failed and the whole audience carried the song until Matthew got a new mic. It was funny and awesome. My favorite part was when Trevor, Matthew, and Brad sat and went through some of the hit songs they’ve written… I loved how most of the audience sang along to all the songs. It felt good singing along with everyone and the band.

This was probably one of my favorite concerts in recent days. I enjoyed it all so much. Everyone put on a great show…

Avengers: Endgame

Avengers: Endgame – No spoilers from me! If you’ve invested your time and heart into the MCU, then you’re going to see this movie. I’m definitely going to need to see it again a couple of more times in the theatre… I saw the movie on Friday, deciding on going to see it about an hour or so before show time. The auditorium was pretty packed but the crowd wasn’t too rowdy so that was good. I did have to get up during the movie but I don’t think I missed too much (plus I was fast).

“Leave Her Wild” – Tyler Rich

“Leave Her Wild” – Tyler’s new single is out! GO GET IT! It’s so good. I love it so very much. Could this be the one that goes to the top of the charts? I have a feeling it could be…

Game of Thrones – What can I say about episode 3? It was exciting and dark (not just in theme but visually quite dark) and gut wrenching and satisfying. I cried towards the end when Bran said, “You’re a good man.” The tears just streamed down at that point. Oh Arya! Such a freakin’ badass! “Not today.” Of course, the next question is now what?

LAST BABBLE

Monday I had the day off to go the DMV. I know, EXCITING, eh? (NOT!) But how’s this for efficient– I received my license in the mail on Saturday! After the DMV, we had breakfast at Katy’s Kreek then checked a bookstore and a comics book shop before having beer at Mike Hess. A good way to spend a Monday!… The weather was a little too hot for my taste. Why can’t we have temps in the 70s for like a month before hitting the summer heat?…

My birthday is coming up (on the 3rd) and I might troll my fellas for HBD wishes. We shall see. Already got an early one from Chris Conrad because I hinted in a tweet that my friend Rachel would appreciate a shoutout from him for her birthday since he was her favorite back in the day. He obliged (because he’s a total sweetheart) and assured me that he was sending me something autographed. I’m just happy at the prospect, he can totally take his time with it…

from TWITL – week seventeen – #AvengersEndgame #MakeItSweet #LeaveHerWild

#TWITL – week seventeen – AvengersEndgame MakeItSweet LeaveHerWild

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aion-rsa · 6 years

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Daredevil Season 3: Complete Marvel Universe Easter Eggs and Reference Guide

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We're hunting down all the Marvel Easter eggs we can find in Daredevil season 3. Here's what we've found so far...

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Mike Cecchini

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Oct 19, 2018

Daredevil

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Daredevil Season 3

This Daredevil Season 3 article consists of nothing but spoilers. We have a spoiler free review right here if you prefer.

Marvel's Daredevil Season 3 has finally arrived on Netflix, and kids, it is spectacular. This is one of the best seasons in the entire Marvel Netflix pantheon, and even though it is (relatively) light on the Marvel Comics references, there is still plenty to unpack, and probably plenty more I'm going to miss on the first viewing.

So here's how this works...I've tried to catch all the cool Marvel references in Daredevil Season 3, but there's only so much I can do. I'm only one man trying to clean up Hell's Kitchen, after all. Let me know anything I missed down in the comments, or hit me up on Twitter. If your catch checks out, I'll update this with it. Together, we can make the most complete guide to Marvel Easter Eggs in Daredevil Season 3 out there!

One quick word of caution about all of this. While I will try not to spoil future episodes in the entry for a specific episode, sometimes speculation leads to spoilers. And while I definitely endorse everyone calling out what they spot down in the comments, I can't control any Daredevil season 3 spoilers you might see if you're down there, or if you scroll too far. Just be careful if you're trying to remain unspoiled!

Fire up your Netflix machines, and let's get to work!

Daredevil Season 3 Episode 1:

It’s not a spoiler to say right out of the gate that this season is influenced by several Daredevil comics stories, and one of them is Frank Miller and David Mazzucchelli’s classic Born Again. But if you’re looking for an adaptation of Born Again, this season definitely ain’t it.

That being said, opening with Matt recuperating in a church while being cared for by Sister Maggie is straight out of Born Again. It’s the circumstances that are slightly different, though. Here, we kick things off because of the events from the finale of The Defenders, where a building quite literally fell on Matt Murdock. In Born Again, the church (and Sister Maggie) doesn’t appear until midway through the story, when Matt is already physically and mentally broken. And while a building didn’t fall on him in that story, he ends up in the church after his actual apartment building is blown to bits...so there’s a little bit of a parallel.

- Sister Maggie Grace, by the way, first appeared in Daredevil #229 (you guessed it...that's a Born Again chapter). She’s also a prominent figure in Kevin Smith, Joe Quesada, and Jimmy Palmiotti’s Guardian Devil. The more sharp-tongued, assertive Sister Maggie we see here is slightly more reminiscent of the way the character is portrayed in that story.

- Another parallel with Guardian Devil is Matt’s generally shitty attitude and his crisis of faith. While the circumstances contributing to those in that story were drastically different, and supernatural in nature (that is most certainly not the case this season), it’s the closest parallel to this season’s dickhead Matt I can think of. In Born Again he was more just broken and mentally unwell. While that is the case here, it's just manifesting differently.

further reading: The Genesis of Daredevil Season 3

- Nice to see the return of Ben Donovan in this episode. It's a relatively small thing, but without Rosario Dawson's Claire Temple to show up and link everything together, I rather like how these shows are now just letting minor characters weave in and out of all the shows, much the way they do in the actual Marvel Comics themselves.

- Ray Nadeem is not from the comics, nor, as far as I can tell, is he even loosely based on anyone from the comics. Don’t let that stop you from getting involved with this character, though. Jay Ali’s performance is terrific.

Otherwise, there aren’t a hell of a lot of actual comic book easter eggs this episode. Just lots of influences. Sometimes it’s better this way, and once again, it’s not a spoiler to say that I think everyone is going to enjoy the hell out of this season.

dailymotion

Daredevil Season 3 Episode 2:

- I feel like maybe once per season each of these shows allows themselves one "comic book style" shot. The bit with Matt staring off into space in the basement of the church fading into Fisk looking the other way feels almost like a comic book split panel effect. Maybe this wasn't intentional, maybe it was.

- The Mother Theresa back tattoo on that Albanian thug has nothing at all to do with the comics, but it's an amusing touch, especially how the FBI guys jokingly refer to him as "Mother Theresa."

- Is Fisk’s incident in the weight room the first time we’ve gotten an indication of JUST how strong he is? In the comics, it’s always pointed out that Kingpin isn’t fat, he’s “all muscle.” Here, he’s benching, what...315? Damn, Wilson!

further reading - Daredevil Season 3: What's Next for Matt Murdock?

- It took me until my second viewing to catch that Ray is a vegetarian.

- When Matt is out wandering outside the church, he’s kind of dressed like Stick, isn’t he? He’s already acting like his old sensei/frenemy, so may as well dress like him, too.

- Oh, do you think this cool fight in the backroom of the sketchy dry cleaner is this season’s answer to season one’s brilliant hallway fight? Keep watching...

- I’ll be honest, I’m not totally sure if Foggy had this kind of working class background in the comics, or if Theo Nelson ever appeared or was mentioned there. In the comics it turned out his actual mother was Evelyn Sharpe, a powerful, high-class attorney. I’d be shocked if they ever go that way here.

- Karen’s “there’s no proof of that!” when Foggy is trying to convince her that Matt is dead feels like a sideways nod to the old comic book logic that “if there’s no body, they can still come back.”

- Fisk’s “Love is the perfect prison” sounds like something Billy Corgan would have written circa 1996. Hell, ol’ Billy is looking a bit like Kingpin these days.

- Gosh, that one FBI agent sure is a hell of a shot isn’t he? Almost like they’re telling us something...

Daredevil Season 3 Episode 3:

- That full Ralph Ellison quote from Invisible Man, “Life is to be lived, not controlled, and humanity is won by continuing to play in face of certain defeat" feels both like what should be carved on Matt Murdock's tombstone and...just a quote we all really, really need to hear right now.

- Fisk keeps referring to Vanessa having a bodyguard named Felix, but I don’t think this is from the comics. Please do correct me if I'm wrong.

- I’m pretty sure that Agent Poindexter is not and cannot be the sniper briefly glimpsed in Daredevil season 1 we all hoped was going to turn out to be Bullseye. A minor trade off for a great introduction to the character here. At this point, it's not a spoiler to say he's Bullseye, right? You all figured that out already. Plus, it's in the trailers!

Bullseye is the closest thing to a "Joker" Daredevil has in his rogues' gallery, and he's been hitting targets of all kinds since he first appeared in Daredevil #131 back in 1976, where he was created by Marv Wolfman and John Romita Sr. Bullseye was played by Colin Farrell in the 2003 flick, but let's try not to think too hard about that, as Wilson Bethel is looking like he's going to be the definitive version of the character.

Want to know more about Bullseye? We've got you covered right here.

- Can someone help me out? Is Julie a reference from the comics? I'm stuck.

- Even via hallucination, it’s great to see Wilson Fisk in the classic Kingpin white suit. Matt hallucinating Fisk is a nice indicator of just how far gone he is at the moment, and again, while this isn’t straight out of any particular comics, it’s right in the spirit of both Born Again and Guardian Devil.

- I really appreciate the “stealth mode” fight in the parking garage. For all of Daredevil’s ninja training and roots, that’s usually focused on the actual ass-kicking elements of it, rather than the ninja’s crucial arts of stealth and deception. The fact that it takes place in a well lit parking garage is even cooler.

- Matt being a dick to Foggy is kind of like Born Again, too. Only there, it was because he had basically lost his mind to pressure and depression. Foggy would reach out to Matt by phone and Matt would pretend not to know (or maybe not actually know) who he is.

Daredevil Season 3 Episode 4:

- They establish here that Matt is 5'10, which I think is about right for Charlie Cox's actual height. However, I'm pretty sure that in the comics (either via The Official Handbook of the Marvel Universe or those awesome trading cards from the '90s) it was established that Matt stands around six feet. Anyway, whatever, as a short dude I am totally here for more superheroes of average height.

- THIS is the hallway fight you’ve been waiting for. And you aren't hallucinating, this long take fight goes on for nearly 15 minutes. No comic book easter eggs here, but...god damn it's good.

- Pretty sure Jasper Evans isn't from the comics, but please correct me if I'm wrong and I'll update this!

- Kingpin is playing some very familiar mindgames with Poindexter. Pretty sure we've heard this kind of talk from a certain occupant of 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. Yeah, yeah, yeah "keep politics out of your articles" blahblahblah, I've heard it all before and I do not care. If you refuse to see the connections between art and the real world, that's not really my problem.

- Sending Matt to a watery grave via checkered taxi is straight out of Born Again. All that did was make Matt even crazier.

Daredevil Season 3 Episode 5:

- Fisk deciding to ruin Matt Murdock's life is perhaps the biggest parallel to Born Again we've seen so far. While he has certainly been suspicious of Matt since their brief chat during season two, if he isn't 100% clued in to the fact that Matt is Daredevil right now, he sure will be soon. In any case, he loathes Matt enough to want to destroy him, and making that happen via apparently "legitimate means" is the most Kingpin thing ever, and right in line with Born Again.

- Felix Manning is from the Born Again story. He first appeared in Daredevil #230. There, he was responsible for outfitting someone with an authentic Daredevil costume. Hmmm...

read Daredevil: Born Again on Amazon

- Keeping all of the flashback materials in an Airwalk box is a nice touch.

- The logo of Poindexter’s old baseball team is very much the Bullseye logo from the comics. The black and white of the scene only drives that home further.

- In the comics, Bullseye's history with baseball has been explored a couple of times. The first was in Bullseye: Greatest Hits by Daniel Way and Steve Dillon. There, Bullseye was a promising minor league pitcher, and he demanded to be taken out while he was in the midst of a perfect game (not the differences between what happened on the show). His coach asked him to get one more batter out, and Bullseye obliged, by killing the batter with a pitch.

The other was in the really interesting and fun Bullseye: Perfect Game by Charlie Huston, Shawn Martinbrough, and Lee Loughridge. That tells the tale of how Bullseye took a year off from supervillainy to become a Major League Baseball pitcher. His intention was to take a hit job on a problematic opposing player. Instead, the two got into an incredible pitchers' duel. If you can track this down, it's totally worth a read, especially if you're a baseball fan.

Daredevil Season 3 Episode 6:

- Ahem...you will note that Karen Page and Matt Murdock most certainly do not have coffee together in this scene. Symbolic? I mean, Luke Cage kinda ruined that beverage for any character pairing for the entire Marvel Netflix Universe, didn't he?

Here's an amusing thing Deborah Ann Woll told reporters while this season was filming:

"You know what happened? On our Marvel shows, we are no longer allowed to just actually literally go for coffee as characters because of that euphemism. We've literally had scenes where, I'm like, 'alright, well let's go get some coffee.' Literally let's get coffee, and they're like, 'no you can't say that because people will read into it.' Isn't that too bad?"

- Every time Karen Page is in a sketchy situation, or even in the vicinity of drugs, it makes me think of (you guessed it) Born Again. While the show has long been building a very different kind of tragic backstory for Karen, and at this point I don't think the comics version would ever work here, it's still a little unnerving, considering how attached we've all become to this character.

- Poindexter's increasing derangement as he feels his world unraveling almost feels a little like one of Bullseye's earliest appearances, during the early days of Frank Miller's legendary tenure on the Daredevil comics. At one point Bullseye had a brain tumor and it affected his perceptions and his already shady behavior pretty dramatically. I don't think they're going there (and certainly not so soon), this just felt like a little bit of a reminder.

read Daredevil: Guardian Devil on Amazon

- Welcome to the first proper Daredevil and Bullseye fight. And while it had already been well established that Poindexter is an almost supernaturally good shot, this is the classic “can use anything at all as a weapon” Bullseye from the comics. This is truly a spectacular action sequence, and the fourth in four episodes. And we're not even halfway through the season yet!

There are two massive parallels to the comics here. One involves Bullseye, the other doesn’t.

In Born Again, Fisk hired an unbalanced person to masquerade as Daredevil. In the case of this show, that unbalanced person is actually Bullseye. BUT…

...Bullseye did spend some time in the Daredevil costume himself, during Ann Nocenti and Lee Weeks’ underrated period on the character. Hell, Bullseye ended up convincing himself he was actually Daredevil for a while. It’s easy to imagine how that could end up playing out here the rest of the season. The fact that he introduces himself with an "I'm Daredevil" would almost seem to play into this, so I'm curious to see how it plays out as the season continues.

Spot anything I missed? Drop it in the comments or hit me up on Twitter and if it checks out, I'll keep updating this!

Mike Cecchini is the Editor in Chief of Den of Geek. You can read more of his work here.

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