#- makes me go “ah yes. this is why we have fallback.”

[wheucto]

ah. the boopening has ended.

[fenmere]

Gesetele's Arrow.odt

--- excerpt---

“What did Kirru tell you about us?” Binwen ventured.

“Oh, that you were old friends who needed to get away for a while to sort things out,” rem said. “Nothing particularly special. But I get it. I work my Art for all types. It’s my honor.”

“Thank you,” Binwen said.

“I’ll hear nothing of it,” Boamäo said. “What do you do, Näofregbi?”

Näofregbi looked back at rem and said, “I’ve been doing pottery, but I hate it. It’s the wrong thing.”

“Right, right,” Boamäo said. “But when you’re not doing pottery, or sleeping, or taking care of yourself, what do you do? Doesn’t have to be anything that might be your Art. What’s your current fallback? Daydreaming? Planning? Hiking?”

Gem gave rem a wry look and decided it was OK to share this part of gemself. Näofregbi tentatively said, “I look for my people.”

“You strike me as a loner, like me,” Boamäo said.

“I am,” gem admitted. “But I also have a people, and they’re there, and I look for them.”

“Interesting.”

Gem looked around and then smiled in the way of sharing an inside joke, saying, “I don’t think they’re anywhere on your boat right now. But if they are, they’ll be in the cabinets and maybe the engine compartment. Places like that.”

Boamäo frowned in light confusion and said, “That’s a new one.”

“Imaginary people,” Näofregbi said. “They’re tiny, and my mind likes to put them in nooks and crannies, away from everyone else. Usually in gardens and out in the woods. Natural places. But maybe they could fit in here, too.” Gem looked out at the water for a little bit, and then said, “I wonder if any of them would be at home on the sea floor.”

“That’s still a new one to me, but it sounds delightful,” Boamäo said.

“I’m thinking about making tiny houses or shrines for them,” Näofregbi said. “I don’t know how that’ll help anyone else. But it feels like what I’m supposed to do.”

“Didn’t used to need to do your Art for others,” Boamäo said. “For most of my life, you could just do it, and if someone appreciated it they went ahead and appreciated it. But you just did it for the joy of it, and that was good enough.”

“Yeah. Fekri, our brood guardian, has said the same.”

“Got an Art fair stall?”

“Yeah.”

“Let me guess. You’re risking your claim to it by going on this trip.”

“I think I wrote a pretty good letter to the manager about why I’m doing this,” Näofregbi said. “But, yes. Definitely.”

“And then, your housing could be taken away, too, right? If I’m remembering the new laws right.”

“Yep. But I think it’s going to be worth it.”

“I’m impressed with you,” Boamäo said. “We’re in unprecedented rough times, and usually youngsters like you can’t take the long view like that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Usually, any little disaster looks enormous when you’re your age. Huge and hopeless. You can’t see the other side of it, because you never have before,” Boamäo explained. “But, even if you lose your property, you won’t be cast out. You’ll rebound. Find another fair, maybe. Or another city. And you’ve got people who’ll look out for you, I’m sure.” Rem looked meaningfully at Binwen.

“Honestly, I hadn’t even been thinking about all that,” Näofregbi said. “I just can’t go back to the Art fair until I figure this out. I don’t have a choice. It’s like my body won’t let me. When I think I’m going to make a move in that direction, I just stop. And when I make a move in this direction, I move faster, like I’m caught in rapids.”

“Ah. You’re the laser focused type,” rem said.

“Maybe,” gem replied. “Still. It does scare me. A lot. I don’t know what I’m being sucked into.”

“Understandable,” Boamäo said. “Well. We oldsters will look out for you. OK? We’ll pull you out when you need it. You just give the word.”

Despite how Fekri had described the world before Gesetele’s Arrow, this verbal generosity and goodwill was more intense than Näofregbi was prepared for. It was hard to believe it. Or trust it. Especially after encountering Mau and its capricious reputation, insistent motives, and deceptive bargaining. Between Mau and Rrenweg, Näofregbi didn’t understand where people like Boamäo could even fit in gems world.

But gem wanted Boamäo to be real, and despite gems worries and misgivings, gem felt warm and profoundly comforted by rems words.

__

The people of Kinrreb’s clearing had left me in the capable hands of Wimauni, who had taken it upon nemself to give me a tour of all of nems favorite secluded places. And while we did that, nem had been lecturing me about what nem now expected of me, and why.

WIP Wednesday Game

It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.

Here’s how it works:

In a reblog of this post (so people can find you in the notes) or new thread (w/ rules attached) if you want to play on your own, post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to play!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event or gift fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. I’ll be searching the reblogs to find people to send asks to!

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

Requested/Friend event mentions under the cut! If you'd like to be pinged next week, let me know!

@fiore-della-valle @redbirdblogs @greenbergsays @idkfandomwhatever @luckyspike

@obaewankenope @mad-madam-m @anonymousdandelion @geometricfractal @prettybirdy979

@eriquin @aparticularbandit @madnessfromthemountains @makeroftherunes @1attheedge

@whimsicalmeerkat @kidsomeday @lizhly-writes @skyderman @adhdavinci

@owlbearwrites @anachronismstellar @anyctibius @rilannon @lazinesswrites

@zyrafowe-sny @dreaminghour @blue-eyedbeta @candyskiez @dreamerking27

@kalira @virgulesmith @i-want-delfeur @selkies-world @exceedinglygayotter

@oitreewrites @post-and-out @writingattheedge @qqaba @ykthefancyclamwiththepearlinside

@princescar

[thiswasinevitableid]

A fun, potentially spooky prompt for Halloween season based on something you wrote in “Amnesty Records”: “Like the monster under the bed came to life, turned out to be hot, and really wants to fuck you.” Something to the theme of Little Monsters from 1989? Indruck and NSFW if you please?

This is indeed NSFW, and also came to me all in one burst.

Duck pulls the Captain Planet comforter up to his chin, sighing as he lays down. He turned seven today, and has been spoiled and fussed over. Mama Newton isn’t much of an entertainer, but she knows how to throw a birthday party. 

 A scrape  of nails on the floor and the rustle of something under his bed makes him freeze. 

“Taco, that you?”

When the cat doesn't appear, he sinks further under the covers.

“Mom?”

“No”  soft voice with a bit of hiss drifts up from under the bed.

He swallows, “Who’re you?”

“My name is Indrid. I live under your bed.”

“No you don’t, you weren’t there last night.”

“How do you know?”

“Just do. So go away.”

“No.”

“I’m gonna call my dad.”

“He won’t believe you” the bed frame rattles, “he will tell you to be a big boy.”

The monster is right, just yesterday dad was saying how proud he was of Duck being brave at the doctor. Fine, maybe if he pretends it’s not there, it’ll go away. 

“....aren't you going to cry?”

“No.” He sets his shoulders, glares at his wall.

“....not even a little?”

“No.”

“Oh.” A sigh, “I am not very good at this.”

Duck didn’t know monsters could be sad.

“Are, uh, are you a grown-up monster?”

“No. I am young and little, like you. They would not send a grown-up monster to a child, they send them to grown-up humans.”

“Grown ups don’t have monsters under their beds.”

“They do. They may not know it, but they do.”

Indrid doesn’t say anything else and Duck falls asleep. He’s hoping the monster won’t come back, but the instant his mom turns out the light, he knows he’s there. 

“I’m n-not scared.” He whispers to the ceiling.

“Yes you are. I can taste it.”

“You can't hurt me. You ain’t real.”

 A hand closes around his ankle and he yelps. The monster laughs, then hisses when Duck kicks his wrist. 

“That was not nice.”

“Neither was grabbing me”

There’s a huff, but nothing else. The third night, Duck is ready, sticking a fake sword under the bed as soon as Indrid says something. 

The sword is yanked from his hands. 

“Why is it this color?”

“Suppose to be from the future. Ain’t you seen space rangers?”

“No. That is not a movie we have down here.”

Duck is only now starting to recognize awkward pauses, but he’s pretty sure this is one.

“Will you tell me about it?” Indrid slides the sword back onto the floor by his dresser. 

He rolls onto his back. He’s not all that tired, and Juno is sick of hearing about it.

“Okay, so there’s this guy who’s a space farmer….”

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

It’s been a year and Indrid is under his bed almost every night, but Duck isn’t afraid of him anymore. Which is why he’s determined to finally get a look at him. How scary can a monster that wants to talk about T.V or trees or whatever else Duck has been up to really be?

When his mom turns off the light, Duck slips out of bed and lays on his stomach, staring into the darkness beneath it. 

Four red eyes appear, but nothing else. 

“Hey ‘Drid.”

“Hello. Why are you down here? Did you lose that action figure again?”

“Nah. Wanted to see you. Where’s the rest?”

“Hidden in shadows. I am not supposed to let humans see me. It can be dangerous.”

“Oh, uh, sorry?”

Indrid hurriedly adds, “But we can stay like this, this is okay. I think. I do not really care, I like being able to see you. You're like the baby multibear my friend has.”

“I ain't a bear.”

“No. But you are, ah, cute.”

Only Iris, Juno’s friend, has ever called him cute, and he only knows that because Juno told him. He understood he was supposed to think that was good. But he likes it much better when Indrid says it.

“What should we talk about tonight?”

Duck rests his chin on his hands, “You wanna play go fish?”

“You have a fish?” The red eyes tip to the right. 

He snickers, “No, it’s a game. Here, lemme show you…”

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

“You better give that one back.” Duck grumbles as he looks down from the bed to see his new Spiderman comic missing. 

“I have given all of them back.” He can hear the smile, the one he’s glimpsed in darkness while whispering secrets under the bed; it’s wide, and there are definitely fangs, but Indrid only ever shows it when he’s happy. He never has a mean smile like the jerks at school. 

“Where’s my Black Panther?”

“...........I dropped it in the stream when I was reading.”

“‘Drid!”

“I got excited!!”

“You owe me a new one.” There’s no anger in his words. It’s just a comic book, not nearly as special as Indrid. 

“Can I give you something from here instead?”

Duck closes the new Iron Man, holds it down to the space beneath the bed, “deal.”

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

He wakes up with a cry, too quiet to be a scream but with tremendous force behind it. As the nightmare fades, something rolls off the bed behind him. 

“‘D-Drid? Please, please say that was you or Taco.”

“It was me, Duck. I, I am sorry, you were whimpering in your sleep and I could taste more and more fear and I did not want you to be afraid. I, ah, I thought if I held you, it would make you feel better.”

“Thanks.” He shivers, the dream reaching out from all sides, threatening more horror if he falls asleep.

“Can, uh, can you come back up? Just for a little bit?” 

“I should not. It was already risky to do it how I did.”

Duck nods, forgetting Indrid can't see him. That's fine. He’ll be okay. He can handle-

A tree branch scrapes the window and he throws the covers over his head. 

“Put your hand over the edge of the bed.”

Duck slips his hand out from the blanket and lets it hang in the air. Fingers link around it, and then Indrid is holding it full on. It doesn’t feel like holding Janes hand when he’s helping her cross the street; it’s cold, smooth, and the nails are sharp. He sneaks a glance, sees red claws wrapped around his wrist, and feels safe enough to sleep. 

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

“Trouble sleeping?”

“Yeah, don’t know why I’m so worried about startin’ high school. I mean, it’s fucking Kepler, the high school ain’t any bigger than the middle school. “

“I always get nervous for new lessons. Even with some ability to see the future, I am worried I will do something wrong. Maybe it is that?”

“Yeh.” Duck rolls onto his side, hoping for a glimpse of a hand. He wishes he knew what Indrid looked like, wishes he was coming to school with him tomorrow. 

“I am sure you will be fine. You are intelligent, and funny, and charming.”

He smiles at the wall, “Thanks, ‘Drid.”

“Any time, Duck.”

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

His roommate is snoring, which is not what he was hoping for from his first night in the dorms. Class tomorrow is going to fucking suck if he hasn't slept. 

“Congratulations on the successful move.” A familiar voice slinks up to his ear. 

“‘Drid? Holy shit, did you follow me?”

“I am your monster, I go where you go. Sort of. It is complicated. What is not complicated however, is this.” The clawed hand pops up to the edge of the bed, placing a wrapped package near Duck’s head. Stealthily removing the paper shows it’s the bright orange truffles that come from Indrid’s home. Duck loves them.  

“You didn’t have to do this.”

“It is traditional in both human and monster culture to give a gift when one moves to a new home. And I like bringing you things. Are you feeling well? Excited to learn about the forest?”

“Yep. Just wish I could get to sleep.”

“One moment.”

He feels Indrid leave. Then his roommate's bed shakes and shudders, the other guy jolting awake in fright. He doesn’t look like he’ll be getting back to sleep anytime soon. 

Duck shifts onto his side, facing the wall, and whispers down the stucco, “Thanks.”

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

A perk of his roommate getting a girlfriend is that Duck gets more nights alone. He’s soaked the pillow with sweat, and is so wrung out from cumming he hasn't wiped his hands yet. 

“Are you done?”

“JESUSFUCK”

“I'm taking that as a yes.”

“Please tell me you ain’t been there this whole time.”

“No, I always leave if you are doing that. It is private.”

“Thank fuck.”

Relief is followed by disappointment, which he decides he won’t think too hard about. 

It only takes another night before he does, imagining Indrid listening to him fuck himself, whispering instructions for how Duck should do it, even touching himself at the same time, getting off on the sound of Ducks pleasure before holding his hand all night. 

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

It’s fall, and the apartment he and Juno share is close to campus, cheap, and fucking freezing.

Duck knows just how to warm up. Sliding his hand down his sweats, he starts picturing Rich, but the thought of jerking it to an ex is a boner-kill waiting to happen. So, he switches to his trusty fallback, selecting a blonde, fresh-faced yet kind of punk body for the voice under the bed. 

He wants to draw it out, but fantasizing about Indrid always sets his hand flying, too many nights like this seeding a deep desire in his veins that he has to purge fast for fear of what will happen if it lingers. The monsters name drops from his lips, breathy and urgent, and he’s too caught up to care  

“Indrid, fuck, please.”

“Please what?”

Gasping, he sits up. A figure is standing at the foot of his bed, staring at him with red eyes. In the dark room, he can’t make much out beside their glow and two short horns on the top of his head. Duck’s mind spins so fast it hurls out the first sentence that comes.

“‘Drid’s got four eyes, not tw-”

Another pair of eyes open just below the first.

“They are a secondary pair, so I can keep them shut and see just fine. I thought the sight of them might be too much combined with the rest of me.” Indrid murmurs.

“Th-though I ain’t allowed to see the rest.”

A shrug, “You aren’t. But I cannot bring myself to care right now. Not when you say my name like that.”

Summoning his courage, Duck locks his gaze onto Indrid’s own and slowly drags a hand up his dick, “You gonna show me the rest or not?”

A hissing growl curls around him as Indrid leans forward, clawed hands leading the crawl onto the bed. In the moonlight coming through the window, Duck sets eyes on the whole of him for the first time. 

His face is angular, sporting his wide toothy grin and framed by silver hair falling just past his chin. Past the claws, his arms are a mixture of tan skin and black and red scales, twining up his arms. The same combination is clear on his chest, visible above the neckline of the white tank-top. Flashes of color appear under the fabric, racing down Indrid’s spine, and Duck would ask what they are if Indrids face had not just come level with his. Standing up, the monster can't be much taller than him. But here, pinned against his headboard like a scientific specimen, Indrid bracketing him, he feels frighteningly small. 

“What happened to not spying on me when  I did this?” The words stick in his dry mouth. 

“It was accidental. I only stayed when I heard you call for me.”

“Wasn't callin.” Heat rises in his face. 

The grin widens, “Oh no?” A long tongue drags down Duck’s cheek, “You did not have even the smallest hint of hope I would her? That I would lay in the shadows, savoring the sounds of you, ah, taking yourself in hand?”

He’s so strange looking, every sensible part of Duck is screaming for him to run, to banish him under the bed and go back to his normal life. 

Duck inches his face forward, closing his teeth round the lobe of a pointed ear, “Maybe.”

Indrid chuckles, “Then maybe I have been hoping for the same. Maybe I have been touching myself and dreaming it was your hand instead of mine. Maybe” he brushes their noses together, “I have wanted this for as long as you have?”

“Least a year, more if I’m bein honest with myself.”

“Several years, but then again, I had the pleasure of being able to see your face. It made you all the more appealing.”

Duck reaches out a shaking hand, stroking silver hair. He means to say some platitude about Indrid being handsome because the affection in Duck’s heart means he couldn’t see him any other way. While that may be true,  a second, more surprising truth comes out in its place. 

“Thinkin if you’d let me see you, we woulda gotten here a lot sooner. “

There’s another growl and then he’s yelping out a laugh as Indrid yanks him flat on his back and unceremoniously rips his shirt off. His monster brings their lips together, tongue sliding between Duck’s lips as the human shoves both hands into Indrid’s hair. When he teases his tongue against Indrid’s, the monster whines, pressing closer and pawing his sides. 

“‘Drid” He mumbles. 

Another whine, higher and morphing into a chirr as Indrid grinds their hips together.

“‘Drid, you gotta let me breathe.”

The monster breaks the kiss, but coats his face in pecks as he catches his breath, chirping all the while. Something solid ripples beneath the fabric of his black pants where they rub against Duck’s thigh. 

“Holy fuck what, what exactly are you packin down there?”

“Would you like to see?”

“Hell yeah.” 

The pants and Duck’s sweats hit the ground in quick succession, Indrid’s shirt landing atop them a moment later when Duck pulls it off to kiss along the scaled swirls of his chest. 

“Well, what do you think?”

“Guh, uh, jesus, uh, ‘Drid, what’s it doin?”

Indrid looks down to where four short tendris are unfurling to reveal a ridged cock.

“Getting ready to fuck you?”

“Uh, how exactly?”

Indrid licks his lips, “Lay back and I will demonstrate. Do not worry, as much as it pains me to focus on anything but your face, I will use my foresight to be certain nothing I do leads to trouble. 

Duck rests his head on the pillow as Indrid settles between his legs, claws pricking his thighs when the monster pushes them apart. 

“Does the whole thing goOH, oh fuck.” He wiggles his hips, “fuck, ‘Drid, that feels so fuckin weird.”

‘That is not surprising. It is one of the tendrils which, unless I'm very wrong about human anatomy, none of your previous partners had.”

“Nnnnnnfuck, fuck you’re gonna fuckin ruin me, god fuckin damn that feels nice.”

“Wonderful.” Indrid bends down, hands gliding to rest by Ducks biceps. He kisses him slowly s the tendril continues stretching him open, slick and pulsing in time with the careful movements of Indrid’s hips. 

His monster noses down his throat, drgs his tongue back up it with a purr, “You taste divine.”

“If you,re fuck gonna eat me, do me a favor and do it after I cum?” Duck teases, stroking Indrid’s shoulder blades. 

Indrid laughs, “A fair request. But I have zero interest in eating you; how could I? I would lose my best friend and my new favorite past time.” The tendril thickens, making Duck moan and throw his forearm over his eyes. 

“Fuuuck, are all monsters this fuckin sappy?”

“Only yours. And it is not as if you're not that way. I remember those love notes you asked me to help with.”

“Okay okay, we’re both big fuckin marshmallows. Now, AAHnn, are you gonna help me break this bed or not?”

Indrid pulls out with another growl, kneading Duck’s ass as he lines up his cock, “Yes, yes I am.”

“FUCK, ohfuckohfuck, yeah, fuck yeah.” Duck digs his fingers into Indrid’s back as he shoves in, “‘Drid, tht’s so fuckin goodohshit, what, what’s it doin now?” The tendrils have spread, one curling around his dick, two teasing his balls, and the fourth twining up Indrid’s shaft, meaning Duck’s toes curl with new sensations on the next thrust.

Indrid grins against his neck, “Taking care of you.”

“Ain’t that, that thoughtful.”

“All for you my sweet, goodness, you’re so warm and your ass is delightful.” His lips find Duck’s cheeks, “I’ve wanted this so long, sweetheart, so very longAHhnnnn.” His head hits the pillow as Duck scratches down his back. Not only do colors flash in his wake; spikes emerge along the ridge of his spine, flickering red to purple to black.

“Is that-”

“-okay yes very, o-okay. You can touch them, they will not hurt.”

Duck runs his finger up one. It’s feathery and smooth, rising and lowering with the undulations of Indrid’s body. Tugging it makes Indrid snap his hips with a chirring growl.

“Yes, yes do that again, more, please ohahnnnnisJunohome?

“No?”

“Good.”

The words Duck meant to say give way to shouts of pleasure as Indrid slams into him over and over, sinking his teeth into his shoulder and clawing at his sides. Duck scratches his scales and skin, strokes and pulls the feathery spines, Indrid trilling when he does. His hips quicken, Duck struggling to keep pace as the monster pins him more firmly to the bed. When he cums the tendrils tighten, sending Duck over the edge right after him. Indrid kisses him again, nipping long his lips as he whimpers the monsters name. 

As his whole body spasms and relaxes, Indrid rolls him over, panting. 

“More, I want more, again, mine, you are all mine.”

Duck looks over his shoulder, grinning fondly, “Uh huh.”

“What is so funny?”

“Nothin. Just, uh, realized there's a plant your dick reminds me of.”

Indrid blinks so intently his second set of eyes join in the expression. Then he cackles, draping himself over Duck to kiss him again. 

“You can tell me all about it after we are done with the extremely pressing matter of me fucking you again.”

“Go wild, darlin.”

This time the pillow takes the brunt of the noise, Duck grunting and moaning into it as Indrid fucks him from behind, switching between slow, gentle thrusts and grabbing Duck’s hips to drive into him hard enough to set off fireworks in his brain. He’s overstimulated to the point of tears, but his whole system floods with pleasure at the intensity of Indrid’s desire, the feeling of being so utterly used and wanted all at once. When the monster pulls out, he’s cum enough that it drips down Duck’s thigh, tingling as it goes. 

“Now” Indrid flops onto the mattress, wriggling into Duck’s waiting arms, “tell me about this plant.”

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

When Juno gets home Sunday morning, Duck is in the kitchen humming long with a playlist on his phone. 

“Holy fuck man, what happened to you.” She stares at the bitemarks and bruises all around his neck and shoulders and the scratches on his legs. 

“Had a real nice weekend.”

“You got all that from a hook-up?”

Duck shakes his head with a secretive smile, “Nah. Just had a sleepover with my new boyfriend.”

[rons-hermiones]

Come Find Me

Come Find Me

by rons-hermiones

Summary: Unplanned, Hermione is forced to spend Christmas at the Burrow due to her grandmother falling very ill. After being ignored by Hermione for weeks, Ron is determined to show her how much she means to him. Just before he gets the chance to tell her, Bellatrix Lestrange shows up with other plans for Hermione. Can Ron get to her before it's too late? (Ron/Hermione Half-Blood Prince AU)

Rating: M for language & dark themes in later chapters.

Chapter Three

The train was leaving at eleven. 

That gave Ron breakfast to do what he needed to do. More than enough time if you ask him. He wasn’t exactly planning on reminiscing with Lavender. 

“Good morning Harry.” Ron said a little too chipper, making the green eyed boy groan. He’d been up for sometime packing his trunk. 

“Beautiful day to chuck Lavender Brown, isn’t it?” He said, despite his demeanor his voice was a bit shaky. 

“Today’s as good as ever.” Harry added, slightly amused at the new air around Ron. 

With a fierce determination he headed down to the great hall and for once was anticipating something unrelated to food when he entered. 

He was ready to do this. 

Until he was attacked the moment he opened the doors. 

“Won-Won!” Lavender explained, rushing over and draping her arms around his shoulders, “I was so worried. Why didn’t you walk me to breakfast?” She questioned, pulling away with a pout. 

He shucked her off as gently as he could, “look Lavender, I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

Surprisingly, she doesn’t look upset, instead excited, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you too! Should we step outside?” She suggested, but before he could agree she was tugging on his sleeve. 

Once they took residence on a bench in the hallway, they turned to each other and spoke at the same time. 

“You go first.” He told her with a nod. 

Eagerly she starts, “I know what you’re going to say, you’ve been trying to tell me for weeks, haven’t you?” She questions. 

Again, he nods. 

“Well,” she pauses, eyes almost shyly meeting his before she breaks out into a smile. 

Do all girls smile while being broken up with?

“I love you too!”

He didn’t even have time to retort or process how delusional the blonde truly was, because just his luck, Hermione walked by at this very moment.

And the look of pain that came over her features didn’t even measure up to that night in the Astronomy Tower. In fact, comparing the two expressions made it seem like the night of the match was her wedding day. 

And probably not his brightest idea, but without a thought, Ron calls for her, “Hermione!” 

In his wake is a confused Lavender as a mass of brown hair disappears around a corner and toward the Great Hall. 

Thank Merlin for his long legs because he’s able to catch up to her in no time. Grasping her wrist lightly and halting her to a stop. 

She snatches his hand from hers like she’s been burned. He drops them awkwardly, the ginger didn’t think of what he was actually going to say. 

“I have to eat.” She announces rather loudly, and too stiffly for Ron’s liking. When had things become this way? 

“Look, I just wanted to tell you,” that I’m really sorry about your grandma. I know we haven’t really talked but I’m always here for you. Also about what you just saw, I don’t love Lavender. I was trying to chuck her, please believe me. I wanna spend holiday with you!

And just like so many conversations he had with Lavender, the words never left his lips. Instead, someone he loathed almost as much as his current girlfriend appeared. 

“Ah! Lovers tiff!” Malfoy exclaimed, the most lively he’s seemed in weeks. Not that anyone missed this from him. 

Instinctively he moved closer to Hermione as she spared him a glance. 

“You know, when I heard you were sucking face with Lavender Brown I will not lie I was a bit shocked!” He exclaimed dramatically, “I just wouldn’t think you’d go for a pure-blood, thought you fancied mudblood scum!” He cackled. 

His brow twitched as he stepped closer to Malfoy, not caring if Snape saw him pound Draco into the floor. 

“But then again, who would touch that thing.” The blonde whispered loud enough for Hermione to hear. 

Angrily, Ron pulled his fist back, and shockingly, Malfoy looked as if he was going to welcome the punch. 

(Unbeknownst to anyone, he knew he’d get this kind of reaction from Weasley and he was so determined to feel something rather than the dread consuming him as of late.) 

But before his fist could connect with the Slytherin’s nose, the slamming of a door was heard as Hermione hurried into the grand hall. 

With a pained look he flicked his glance between Draco and where Hermione just stood. 

Reluctantly releasing his robes, he made his choice to finally do the right thing and go after her. 

He spotted her next to Ginny, the seat he hadn’t occupied in months, absently forking around some eggs while her nose was stuck in some old looking book. She wasn’t crying, but the distant look in her eyes was evident. Hermione hadn’t even acknowledged him as he walked over. 

(And normally something, Malfoy, of all people, says wouldn’t bother, but the past twenty four hours haven’t exactly been a picnic.) 

As he lurched closer he and Ginny locked eyes. His sister just shook her head, telling him not now, her expression wasn’t sour, but more sad than anything. 

Promising himself he’d truly sort this out on the train ride home, he ventured again to set Lavender straight. 

...

He was a coward. The ruddiest bloodiest one of them all. 

After his run-ins with Lavender, Malfoy, and Hermione, he sought out to find the first girl. However, his attempts were failed as she had holed up in the girls dormitory to finish packing her things. 

And just his luck, when the blonde finally emerged, she was joined at the hip with Parvati. He wasn’t cruel enough to break up with her in front of her best friend. 

On top of it all, Lavender seemed completely unfazed by the events that occurred this morning. You’d honestly think that after saying those three words to someone, it’s a red flag if they run off to see another girl moments after. 

But no, instead, he was boarding the train sans Lavender, sans Ginny, Harry, or Hermione as well. Alone. 

Reaching the narrow corridor and lines of compartments, he knew he had a few choices to make. Breaking up with Lavender was at the top of list. He would hopefully have the next month to let Hermione know how sorry he is about her grandmother and to amend their fractured relationship. 

First, he had to put his trunk down. 

Sauntering down to the compartment that he, Harry, and Hermione always occupied, Ron hadn’t considered the fact that the bushy haired witch might be in there, warranting for an awkward confrontation. He really wanted to get it all sorted with Lavender as a way to show Hermione he’s serious about all this, about her. 

Someone else. 

The phrase Ginny had reiterated on behalf of Hermione had been ringing his head for the past twenty four hours. There was still hope, even if just a little. 

Shoving the sliding door aside he didn’t see Harry in sight, who he did see, was Hermione. 

At first she didn’t notice as she absently took notes on that same book he’s seen attached to her hands for weeks. He’s itching to ask her about, just to get her to talk about something, anything. 

“Hello.” He was surprised she spoke first. She sounded awkward and stiff, a little shaky, but it was something. Small victories. 

“Hi, uh, I’m just putting this away.” He commented in return as he shoved the thing over head. 

Ron wanted to wait until he had chucked Lavender, but his morals were screaming to say something. 

“I’m really sorry about your grandma Hermione. I know you two were close.” He told her genuinely sorry. 

For a moment her face softens from the stoic expression, but he blinks, she snaps her book shut, and the look, it’s gone.

“Yes we were close, but I suppose people grow apart,” and just like that they weren’t talking about her ill grandmother, “sometimes something more interesting, better, comes along and you can’t find time anymore.” She’s spitting venom. Any sadness replaced by pure rage. 

“Hermione,” he didn’t wanna row with her, though he surely deserved whatever she had to throw at him. 

“It makes you think maybe you never meant that much to them. That you’ll always be the fallback plan. Second best.” Though still sounding furious, her voice rocks over the last sentence. 

As soon as the words left her lips, she looked horrified. 

“I’m sorry.” She says quickly, stuffing her hands onto her lap and clasping them. A nervous habit he knows she has. 

What in the bloody hell is she sorry for? 

“Look Ron,” it’s the first time she’d spoken to him in weeks, it evokes a chill, “I don’t want to argue with you.” 

“I don’t either.” He agrees quickly. 

She ignores that, “I think we both should just put this all behind us and do what’s best.”

Suddenly excited, he nods his head. If Hermione was saying all this now then maybe she’d jump into his arms when rumors of the breakup hit her! 

“Good, I’m glad you agree,” her eyes are watering, her lips are a thin line, “I’ll stay out of your way at the Burrow, won’t bother you. Wouldn’t want to ruin your holiday, after all it is your house, I’m intruding.” 

That is certainly not what he agreed to! 

For the brightest witch of her age she could be so daft, Hermione would never be a burden to him or his family. 

The ginger quickly shakes his head, “what? Hermione, no, I,” 

And luck, as usual, isn’t on his side because Harry decides to enter at this very moment. 

“Hello.” He announces, far too chipper for both Ron and Hermione’s taste. 

At this she stands, needing to get away from what just transpired. 

“Hey, where are you off to?” Harry questions, eyes flicking momentarily to Ron worried they might’ve rowed.

Now he wishes they did. Passionate fiery Hermione was easier to watch then this version of her. Quiet and sad. 

“Loo.” She mumbled, scrambling for the text. 

The second the door shut Ron groaned, beside himself. 

“How’d it go?” The chosen one asked as he plopped across from Weasley. 

Ron scoffed, “how do you think it went?”

Harry nodded awkwardly, “right...”

“Didn't even think things could get worse, she was going on about how she’ll stay out my way, some bollocks about how she’s intruding.” 

There’s a pause, “have you chucked Lavender?”

The ginger just grunts. 

And like it’s the world's biggest secret Harry speaks quickly, “you’ve got to sort that out. You and Lavender make Cho and I look as in love as your parents!” He exclaims recalling his disaster relationship in fifth year. 

Ron let’s put a butter laugh, “I’m daft Harry, but not that daft, I know that!” His anger sizzles, he drops his tone, “why haven’t you said anything until now?” 

Harry sighs, he doesn’t even know what to say. A stiff silence falls upon them before he can manage anything, “I didn’t want anyone to think I had been picking sides or anything. It’s not like Hermione said much about you or you were saying much about her. There wasn’t much to tell the other.” He drops his head, “I reckon some of this is my fault.” 

Ron’s taken aback, “what?” if anyone’s at fault it’s him. 

“You’ve been walking around for months miserable. Hermione, she barely has anything to say these days unless it’s about You-Know-Who.” He doesn’t say the name for Ron’s sake, “you two clearly haven’t been great communicators with each other but I could’ve done more. We could’ve talked about it sooner, I could’ve helped to cheer Hermione up.” 

The ginger doesn’t have time to assure Harry, not yet anyway, “is she... is she sad?” He feels stupid asking. 

“She’s Hermione you know, she does her best to not let it show, but I can tell it’s gotten harder for her. I haven’t seen her cry since the night it happened then yesterday with her Gran. You know she never likes to show anything ever bothers her, but she let it slip sometimes. Everyone’s noticed.” Harry states awkwardly. 

Ron feels like his throat is closing. He never wanted to cause this type of pain. Between her clear distance from everyone, Harry being torn, Lavender following his every move, his own sister disappointed in him, along with most of Gryffindor,  and a war bubbling, well he feels awful. No one needed this on top of everything else. 

“Don’t blame yourself, alright Harry, that’s the last thing I need.” He says with what he hopes is a convincing tone. 

The chosen one leans forward and pats his friends knee, “you too Ron. You’re in this situation because you don’t want anyone to get hurt.” He points out. Ron’s reluctance to chuck Lavender was because he didn’t want to hurt her feelings, no matter how irritating she may be. However, in the process he had been hurting Hermione. 

“Look how that worked out? Our best friend doesn’t think I give two farts about her.” He says bitterly. 

“Ron,” 

“She sleeps on the common room couch every night because my girlfriend taunts her! Cormac McLaggen thinks it’s alright to force himself onto her and she probably thinks I think it’s alright too considering I did nothing!” He booms. 

No one speaks for a moment, it’s a little tense. 

“Okay, so you didn’t know, but you do now! You know and you care. You care so much so that you’re planning to break up with your girlfriend, sort this all out over holiday, and probably punch McLaggen along the way. So you do care, you just were late to the party. Better late than never, alright?” The dark haired boy rambles. 

Ron digs the heels of his palms into his now watering blue eyes, “I think I might love her, but I’m not sure.” He admits hoarsely. 

“Why not?” Harry whispers a little taken aback at the admission, but not surprised. 

The ginger peels out from behind his hands, “how can you love someone so much and hurt them so bad?” 

In response, Harry does nothing but leans forward and places a box of Bertie Blotts Bean’s he bought on the way in. 

A small smile manages its way on Ron’s face. Harry has never been great with words, neither has the red head. It’s usually Hermione's thing. This gesture shows everything they don’t need to say. 

That Harry’s here for Ron no matter what and he’ll do whatever he can to help him fix is. 

“Cheers.” Ron mutters opening the cardboard. 

“Hey, maybe if you eat a vomit Lavender won’t try and snog you whenever you speak.” The green eyed boy jokes lightly. 

His friend manages a small chuckle at this before turning serious, “I should probably go handle that right?” 

Cringing, Harry nods as Ron stands and wipes his jeans. 

“Wish me luck.”

“Good luck, you’ll need it.” The chosen one says as Ron groans and the compartment door slides shut. 

Sauntering like a man being sent to death, Ron eyes each of the compartments looking for a head of blonde hair probably adorned with a vibrant colored headband. 

After about five minutes, he finds Lavender chatting animatedly with Parvati as the pair look over a Witch Weekly. Before he can announce his presence, it seems as if the girl has noticed, jumping up and squealing. 

“Won-Won!” He hears her yell through the door as she throws it open, throwing her arms around her as she does. 

“Vati isn’t it so sweet he’s come to see me!” She brags turning to her friend who looks like she’d rather be anywhere else. 

“Sure Lav.” Parvati says dryly as she stands up and gathers her things. 

It seems as if the twin can sense she should be anywhere else but Ron wants to make it clear, “could I talk to you alone Lavender?” His voice comes out firmer than he thought. 

“It’s all yours.” Lavender’s best friend says as she motions to the seats and stalks down the trains corridors. 

“Oh she’s so sweet!” The blonde gushes, “come in.” She instructs as she begins to drag his hand behind her. 

Lavender takes the liberty to fall onto one of the cushions folding her legs in what seems to be an attempt at a seductive matter. 

Ron just slides the door close and sits across from her. As far as he can manage. 

“Why don’t you come over here?” She pouts. 

He shakes his head, “I need to talk to you. I think it’s best I do from here.” Part of him is absolutely babbled. She's not upset about this morning. 

“Well alright silly!” The girl giggles. 

Ron clears his throat, “Alright Lavender look,” 

“Is this about this morning?” She soon cuts in, “I can understand it might’ve made you nervous but that’s okay, I’ll wait.” Lavender smiles, it seems genuine. 

Oh wow she was delusional. 

“No, Lavender I just needed to,” 

“I already told you Won-Won I can’t come to your house for holiday. Next time I promise.” She begins to lean forward as he presses himself back into the seat. 

“That’s not it,” he sees her open her mouth to say something else before he stops her, “please Lavender, please don’t interrupt me.” He says a little forcefully, not not enough to come off as rude. Though at this point, the situation may warrant it. 

“I’m all yours.” She says batting her eyelashes and tucking her hair behind her ears for emphasis. 

“This isn’t working. I really can’t see you anymore.” Finally he gets the words out. 

“Oh,” she breathed a little shocked before the expression left her face, “no.” 

“No?” He says scrunching his brow. 

Lavender nods vigorously, “No.” she repeats. 

“Lavender you can’t say no, I’m breaking up with you.” 

She shakes her head slowly, “no you’re not.” 

“Yes I am!” His voice grows louder, it’s becoming very hard to remain calm. 

“No you’re not,” her voice is turning shrill, desperate, “this is about her isn’t it? That cow, that freak,”

“Don’t you dare!” Now he’s mad. 

“Well it’s true! She’s useless in just about all aspects. When will you ever need to recite Hogwarts History, or whatever it’s called.” She says airily. 

Doing his best not to correct her he goes on, “were you ever gonna tell me she doesn’t stay in your dorm anymore because you make fun of her?” He’s doing his best to level his voice. 

“Oh, so this is about her?” Lavender jabs. 

For a moment he doesn’t know what to say, “yes, yes it is!” He’s yelling now, “I can’t be with someone who’d say such horrible things and about my friend no less.” 

The blonde scoffs, “it’s not like she doesn’t deserve it! Practically throwing herself at you like, like a little,” 

“Don’t you dare finish that.” He bites out above a whisper, “I haven’t even spoken to her since I started seeing you. She hasn’t even looked my way.” He points out, not liking the insinuation. 

She rolls her eyes, “so you have been watching have you?” 

“That’s besides the point! I’m through having this conversation, me and you, we’re done.” 

Lavender is wearing a hurt expression. Ron really can’t find himself to care after what just transpired. He thinks she’s going to concede, call it quits, but nothings ever that easy. 

“No, we’re not. Merry Christmas sweetheart.” Her sickly baby voice is back as she leans forward and kisses his cheek before disappearing from the cabin. 

Too shocked to even go after her, he sits there and tugs at his hair fiercely. 

How were things so fucked up?

[hoaxexistence]

Thoughts

I finished the show last april and im doing my 2nd full rewatch and this time I'm watching it alongside the commentaries so im kind of in a slow pace. Lol. I said up there that it's my 2nd full rewatch bec for i time i was watching random episodes until i had the copy of the commentaries. So far here are my thoughts for the first 13 episodes.

“I see your value now.”

Episode one is a actually a great start. I mean sure they are clearly finding their dynamics but still, it has great scenes and lines and not all shows got that strong pilot. Really love that panning up shot of the school at the end.

“Milady, milord”

Spanish 101 is a fun episode, really hilarious. Ken jeong is funny, and hey i actually see britta better now. I remember watching this show the first time and i tried to like her but ended up liking annie instead. But now im actually seeing her. I like the bit where they did their presentation and annie was in a boat and alison had tears, cracks me up. Also i like jeff and annie so the tiny detail of the first milady milord here is so personal to me. AND the tag!! The bibliotheca rap, God was it iconic.

“falafel as fallback”

Introduction to film. Oh the first time i read this, the film buff in me just cheered! It was really sweet of britta to do that for abed and i see in this episode how they really treasure him as a person and i really love that, that's what he deserve.

(im writing all of these from memory and my memory sucks so these first few may not be that greatly executed.)

“you asked me to stay and you said we we're friends”

Ah social psychology. I love that line from abed so much and Annie's reaction. She was taken aback with how her words meant to him and i am deeply touched as well as her. My favorite part in the cold open was chang and Annie's moment hahhaha. Aaaaand, jeff and Shirley moments were here! Shirley's really funny and i love that part when she just makes fun of vaughn's nips hahah. I love the friendship between her and jeff. Also the tag is funny. Trobed tags are funny.

(i started sliding through the episodes now just to refresh my memory. Lol)

“because if crazy people can't be at Greendale, then where are we supposed to go”

Advanced Criminal Law. The freakin gif that I've been seeing for a long time finally had a story for me. (That one when chang was looking at the tiny paper. Lol) I love jeff and britta's relationship as well as annie and pierce's that were shown in this. Yes, jeff was helping britta to be closer to her because he wanna sleep with her but more than that, he likes her and he's her friend and he wants to not be an ass even for a while. Annie's cheerleading story was a good bit. Lol.

“I peed alone my whole life. Women have always hated me.”

Football, feminism, and you!! Aaaaa i love this episode. I said that I never liked britta that much but that's my biased opinion talking. I usually don't like characters i see myself in, so yea, at times i could really relate to britta. This actually talked about her too though they kinda did that already in the previous episode but of course, the show is introducing us to these characters so it's necessary for characters to overlap stories duh. Oh and this is the first commentary that alison brie was in because this is kind of a big moment for annie here, though this episode is for troy, okay this episode is for everyone dammit 😂. Anyway this is where i started to really appreciate annie and where they actually put a clearer path to her character, though still navigating. I love her confrontation with jeff and how his reaction after looks like hehe. Also that last scene before the tag, another milady milord. uwu

“I am batman. Or am I?”

Introduction to Statistics! WHEN DAN CONFIRMED THAT THAT DANCE SCENE BETWEEN ALISON AND JOEL MADE THEM CONSIDER JEFF AND ANNIE was a great bit from commentary. This is Slater's first appearance and her character helped in exposing Jeff's character. Shirley's deep emotions were navigated in this episode as well with how she divert her anger to slater. That scene of her and britta was really touching. I love it when the girls have their own moments together just like from the previous episode. Also i loved how joel, chevy, and dan admired alison's talents in the commentary.

“you're a nerd”

Ah, Home Economics. I love how they let us into abed's dorm. We see here that slowly they're really starting to become a family, although yes, annie got a thing for troy and jeff got a thing for britta but still.

“man is evil”

Hah. Debate 109. The kiss for the team. I love this scene and the simmons guy. That hallway scene will never not be funny. Also this episode birthed the imma die by werewolf rap from alison sooooo. Shirley was really funny, especially when she giggled when she teases jeff and annie. Speaking of that scene, God. The way he looks at her. That was probably the moment where i could say that jeff notices annie as a woman. The way he looked into her eyes before he looks at her hair, it was beautiful. That reproductive joke bit was funny but the phone will always crack me up, Jeff's tiny voice when he said he could just get another one is hilarious. Britta and pierce had their moments here and as much as i like their tandem i like annie and peirce more. Idk. Also their laptops are very cute, very old. Lol

“we're trying to save the planet, print 500 more of these”

Aaaa, Environmental Science. That opening was really good. This episode is a highlight for chang's character and i loved his and Jeff's relationship, they really make a fun banter. What can i say the last part of this episode was just great. That montage of troy and abed singing somewhere out there while the dance is happening, it's just brilliant. I like that transitions and how we see that jeff is capable of doing something decent even if it doesn't always look like he's doing anything.

“I am totally comfortable being uncomfortable”

The Politics of Human Sexuality. Troy and abed were kinda challenging themselves and I really love that for them. How abed cares about Troy's feelings really debunks the thing that he's emotionless. I love that the girls were able to do things here again, even if it's sneaking into the dean's office. Lol. Giant thumb in a turtleneck. 😂. Alison was in the commentary again for this episode and talked about how that closet thing story was based on her real life experience. Really fun bit. Also! That line from dean when he said alcohol just makes him sleepy, really funny.

“it's December 10th!”

Aaaaaaaaa Comparative Religion! This one's really good. I love that they get to talk about religion and beliefs without like picking on it. Also have i said how their overlapping murmurs and talking over each other in the background was really great? Nope? Yeah, well this cast make a pretty good background noise, i love it. Troy's face is the best. That shirley line where she said, “why do you hate me and jesus?” will never not be funny. And that bracelet that she made was really sweet. Yes she could get manipulative and may be good at gaslighting but i love how they still redeem her and make her still likeable in the end. And Yvette's voice is just so brilliant! Dan said that this episode was the episode where they really felt like they're really are a family, especially in Jeff's point of view.

“Annie's pretty young we try not to sexualize her”

Oh i love the opening for Investigative Journalism. I love how they hug after coming from their own breaks, and that jack black was suddenly there. Lol. I liked that bit where annie thanked jeff for getting mad and jeff said that those were the upside.. Really felt like somehow, behind all his bs and his inability to process his feelings, he's still capable of having one. This episode showed how he has the in the palm of his hand, yet as the show progresses, we'll see that it won't stay like that. And I love that. They're growing. And yep in the commentary alison said she gets those messages still, and after more than a decade, she still do. Sad. I remember what Dan said, she's a forbidden fruit. :)

05/19/21 - 05/21/21

[mosylufanfic]

Five Times They Got Caught Off-Guard (and one time they decided to settle the question)

Hail, @youareiron-andyouarestrong, I am your Secret Santa! Merry Christmas and here's your present! The prompt “WHO KEEPS HANGING MISTLETOE EVERYWHERE WE ARE” just made me giggle, so I wrote a goofy, fluffy, slightly pratfall-y 5 Times fic. I didn't use all your ideas for majors, but I definitely enjoyed hearing them. You said smut was okay, and while this is still T, it’s pushing the upper edge by the end. I hope you enjoy it, and that you have an amazing remainder of the Christmas season!

Five Times They Got Caught Off-Guard (and one time they decided to settle the question)

Cassian was stripping meat from bone with unsettling efficiency when Jyn walked in the kitchen. 

"I can't believe you want more of that dusty jerky," she said, hoisting herself up to sit on the counter. "I've still got strings in my teeth." She picked her teeth with her fingernail to demonstrate.

"I'm making soup," he said, tossing a leg bone onto a plate and a few scraps of overcooked, dried-out turkey meat into a bowl. "Might as well get some good out of this bird."

"Ah," she said, reaching down for a carrot stick from the veggie platter that Han Solo, that cheap motherfucker, had contributed to their dinner. "Good idea. Do Americans really eat one of those awful things every year?"

"I think it's usually a little tastier." He shrugged, as unfamiliar with American Thanksgiving as she was.

A big noisy holiday dinner had been Bodhi's idea. Most of them in the elderly, rambling house just off campus were too poor to make it home over the break, and about half of them were international students anyway.

Add in some of the strays that Bodhi seemed to pick up like a magnet picking up leftover paper clips, and there had been enough people, and enough dishes, to make up for the dreadful main event. Jyn rubbed her belly and wondered if there was any of Bodhi's veggie curry left. Or the elote Cassian had made. Or the chocolate silk pie that their landlords Chirrut and Baze had brought. Her mouth watered.

A yell exploded from the living room. They both paused in what they were doing and exchanged eyerolls. They'd been booed down for attempting to veto the American football game on the telly.

"Call that football," Jyn said, and bit the carrot stick in half.

"Que chafa," Cassian said, shaking his head.

She laughed. "Man United is playing, too. Night game. Probably almost done."

"Since when do you root for them?"

"Watch your mouth, asshole, I'm rooting for whoever's playing them."

He smiled to himself, looking over at her. Suddenly his smile faded.

"What?" she said. "What are you staring at?"

"How long has that been there?"

"What?" She grabbed a spoon out of the drawer and tried to use it as a mirror. "I got something in my teeth?" Fucking turkey. She'd taken a slice for politeness, even though it had required a gulp of water after every bite.

"No," he said patiently, "look up."

She craned her neck and squinted at the ceiling, almost directly above her. "That's mistletoe."

"Yes, I thought so too."

She lowered her gaze and met Cassian's, feeling her cheeks heat. "I didn't put it up."

He looked away, back at the bird he was still stripping down. "Neither did I."

Her lips tingled. She bit them, and made herself stop. "Someone getting ahead of themselves with Christmas decorations," she said airily, hopping off the counter and sliding past him.

He lifted his head. "Where are you going?"

"I - " She shrugged. "Dunno, my room or something."

He reached over and pulled a giant knife out of the knife block. "Here. Make yourself useful and chop some veggies for the soup."

"You're actually going to let me help in your kitchen?"

"It can't be insulted any worse than it was today," he said. "Leia Organa will be running the world one day, but she won't be feeding it."

"It was supposed to be her brother," she pointed out, taking the knife. "Just, his flight got cancelled and she insisted on doing it in his place. Why'd you let her?"

"Because I've never cooked a twenty-pound turkey before and I foolishly thought she had. Celery and carrots," he instructed, passing her the veggie platter. "Leave the tomato and broccoli."

"You still would have been salty if Luke had been cooking the bird," she observed, following orders. 

"Yes, but we probably would have been able to eat it."

Jyn chopped up the veggies at his direction. When she was done, she leaned against the counter to watch as he performed culinary alchemy, combining seemingly random herbs and spices with the veggies and the remains of the turkey carcass. 

"There," he said, covering it with water and setting the timer on his precious slow cooker. "Let it cook overnight and I'll add noodles in the morning."

She almost moaned. Turkey noodle soup while it was cold and rainy out sounded perfect. "Save some for me."

"Cooks' portion," he said and gave her a rare smile. "You make a good assistant."

"Great," she said. "A fallback in case the cybersecurity market goes to shit before I finish my thesis."

They washed the dishes they'd used, leaving them in the drying rack as the dishwasher chugged away at the dishes from dinner. It was comfortable and companionable and if Jyn thought of the mistletoe dangling above their heads about once a minute or so, she felt sure that Cassian didn't notice.

He nudged her as he was wiping his hands dry. "Want to come hang out in my room? Avoid the fake football?"

She felt the blush start somewhere in her stomach. She crossed her arms, smirking at him. "You hit on all your kitchen assistants?"

Behind his beard, his cheeks darkened. "What? I - no - I - "

Oh. Damn. Well. Fuck, this was awkward.

"I meant to watch the Cruz Azul game on my tablet," he said. "It'll be in Spanish."

She swallowed and attempted a joke. "What's the odds somebody's gonna trip over nothing, roll around like his femur is shattered, and get up five seconds later to jog off the pitch?"

"High," he said, sounding like their housemate Kay, who was going for his PhD in statistics. "Very high."

"Well, that's more like it. Yeah, all right."

--

Cassian rubbed his temples. He had a bitter headache and had just sent out a piteous text to the house group chat, begging for someone, anyone, to bring him a coffee. 

He focused on the essay in front of him. "Alicia, I'd like to see you expand more on this point. You gloss over it somewhat. Professor Draven graded you down for that on your last essay, remember?"

The undergrad he was working with shook her mass of blond ringlets back over her shoulders and scooted her chair closer to his. Why, he couldn't imagine, because his office wasn't much bigger than a closet. "What do you suggest?" she asked.

Even though Alicia was in another section of Professor Draven's 202 class and thus had a different TA, she always came to see Cassian for help with her assignments. A lot of international students in the poli-sci department tended to find him, because of the number of languages he spoke. Alicia had been the most regular this semester, dropping by before every test and essay. Her heavy body spray, some kind of vanilla musk, filled his tiny office and intensified his headache.

He made some suggestions and she noted them down. "So what are your plans for Christmas?" she asked. 

"Oh, I can't really afford to go back to Mexico for the holiday, so I'm staying here." He scanned along. "Now this conclusion is rather good, but it will only be strengthened if you expand on your earlier point."

"So you won't see your family? That's so sad, Cassi!" She put her hand on his arm. "My roommate and I are having a party after finals, before I leave for Berlin. Would you like to come?"

"Um," he said. "I - maybe we should get back to the essay."

A knock at the door interrupted him, and he looked up. Jyn leaned in. "Got a coffee," she said. "Want it?"

"Yes, please," Cassian said, reaching his hand out to take it. He took a sip. Three sugars, no cream, perfect. He smiled at her. "Do I owe you?"

"Your first-born, as agreed."

"Will you take a rain check?"

"No," she said, poker-faced, "I demand a baby right now. Make sure it's a nice plump one."

He chuckled and took another drink. His headache was already receding.

Alicia was studying them both, narrow-eyed. "Is that your girlfriend, Cassi?" she asked in German.

But it was Jyn who answered, in the same language. "Nope," she said, leaning against the doorjamb and slurping from her own takeout cup. Tea, probably, strong and sweet and milky. She was very English in that way. "Just his housemate and caffeine delivery person."

Alicia studied her for another moment, then shrugged and smiled. "Nice to meet you." She turned her back and said, "Can you tell me more about the parts in the middle that needed work?"

"Actually," Cassian said, handing her essay back, "I think we were about done."

"Oh - but -"

"I have to prepare for class," he said firmly. "Just work on those sections and it'll be an excellent final project."

"I still wanted to ask you - "

Even more firmly, he added, "I hope you have a good trip back to Berlin."

Alicia bit her heavily-glossed lip. "I'd still love to see you at my party. Here's my address."  She scribbled on a piece of paper from her notebook and handed it to him. "Lots of fun, I promise!"

Cassian waited until she was gone to drop it in his trash can. 

"Frequent flier?" Jyn asked, taking the seat she'd left behind.

Cassian shrugged, leaning over to crack the window. The air that rushed in was bitter-cold, but clean and fresh, chasing vanilla musk out. "She always wants a lot of help, but never really needs it. Her work is very good as is. I think she just wants reassurance." He opened a drawer and found a pack of crackers, offering her one.

Jyn took it and crunched in. "Or she's pursuing you."

He almost choked on his own cracker. "She's - I'm sorry?"

"She wants in your pants real bad."

"I'm sure she doesn't."

"I'm sure she does."

"She's just a very conscientious student, always works hard on her essays, arrives early for  . . . office hours . . . " He trailed off. "Oh."

Jyn chortled into her tea. "Wake up and smell the perfume, Cassi."

He made a face. "Don't."

"Why not? Don't you like it?"

"No, but I've given up trying to correct her." He looked at his trash can, the party invitation taking on a whole different cast. "Hell."

"Not into it? She's pretty cute."

"No," he said. "And annoyed you had to tell me. I thought she just really liked international relations."

She patted his arm. "She probably does, but she's thinking of a whole different kind of relations." She looked up and froze. "And she's very determined about it, too."

"What now?" he said rather wearily.

She pointed and he looked up to see a sprig of mistletoe hanging from his ceiling. He squinted. "How did that get there?"

"Was she early today?"

"Yes, but how would she get it up there?"

"Was your desk rearranged?"

Now that he thought of it, his keyboard was a little off-center, as if it had been moved and then moved back, maybe when a certain blonde German undergrad had climbed up on his desk to hang mistletoe from his ceiling.

Jyn laughed out loud. "For a journalist, Cassian, you're not very observant, are you?"

"I blame the headache," he said, reaching up for the mistletoe. It eluded the very tips of his fingers.

"I got it," she said, stepping up onto her chair and then nudging the keyboard aside so she could climb on the desk. 

"Jyn - !"

"I'm fine, I've got it," she repeated, stretching up for the mistletoe. She had to go up on her toes to get at where Alicia had taped it to the ceiling, and yank hard. "What did she use?" she grunted, "superglue?" She yanked again, and the sprig came free, knocking her off-balance. She took a step into thin air.

Cassian grabbed her waist. "Steady!"

She teetered, folded over, grabbed his shoulders, and they both froze. She shifted carefully, getting both feet firmly back onto the desk. 

"M'alright," she said.

"Sure?"

"Yeah."

He became aware that his arms were wrapped around her hips and his face was practically buried in her - ah. 

And he'd knocked both their chairs aside when he'd grabbed for her. They were just far enough away that he couldn't hook one with his foot and drag it over, not with their combined balances so tricky.

"I'm going to bring you down," he said. "All right?"

"Uh-huh."

He shifted his grip, stepped back, and for a moment her whole soft, curving weight slid down his front. Her boots hit the industrial carpet with a thump, and they both let go very fast.

"Thanks," she mumbled, her face pink. She snatched up her tea, which had miraculously survived the shenanigans, and backed through the door. "I'm just - I - see you at home, yeah?"

"No problem," he said, watching her go.

--

Jyn walked in, went directly to the couch, and faceplanted. 

Some time later, she heard the door open and Cassian's footsteps on the creaky old wood floors. "Jyn?"

"Ungh."

"Are you alive?"

"No."

He sounded amused. "What killed you?"

"An all-nighter," she groaned into the cushions. "A bitch of a project. Bugs. Bugs everywhere. It's raining and I forgot my umbrella so I'm cold and wet, and I didn't eat lunch, and I may have to do my project over again because like I said, it was a bitch."

"Anything else?"

She considered. "My foot hurts."

"Well," he said. "I guess I'll just leave your deceased corpse there to rot. It'll be very smelly." He walked out again, creak-creak-creak.

"Nice," she mumbled into the cushions. "Spending too much time around Kay, that's what he's doing."

She considered getting up. Changing out of her wet clothes. Heating up some soup. She groaned again, and downgraded her expectations to getting her wet socks off.

She'd just chucked them to the floor - splat - and was attempting to burrow her chilled feet into the divide between cushions when the floors creaked again. Something thick and warm settled over her. She grunted and turned her head, rubbing her fingers against the fuzziness of the blanket. "What - "

"Just in case you might be revived," Cassian said, crouching by her head. 

She smiled at hm, pulling her feet in under the blanket. They began to sting and prickle with warmth. "It is the season of miracles and all that."

His hair fell damp and soft over his forehead, and his shoulders were rain-spattered, so he must have come in just after her. He could have changed clothes or gotten his own food, but he'd elected to get her a blanket instead.

She wanted to reach out and brush her fingers over his beard. Would it be scratchy or soft? She wanted to run her hand down his throat and feel the motion of his Adam's apple as he swallowed hard. 

His eyes flicked up and he frowned. 

She pulled her hand to her chest, afraid she might have already been reaching out to touch him. “What?”

He pointed, and she twisted her head on the cushion to see a sprig of mistletoe hanging from the reading lamp parked almost directly above their two heads.

“What - “ she said, looking back at him.

They both realized at the same time how close their faces were, and he lurched back, almost butt-planting before staggering to his feet. “Anyway,” he said. “I’ll leave you to warm up.”

“Thanks for the blanket,” she said. “You want it back?”

He shrugged, backing away. “I have more.”

When he was gone, she pulled it over her head with a groan. 

--

Cassian was grading papers from his section when Jyn found him in the library. "Just who I was looking for," she said, plopping down.

"Have a seat," he said absently, opening up the next essay that had been electronically turned in at the last possible second. 

"Have you thought about Christmas presents yet?"

Who could think of presents when he had forty-two essays to wade through and an analysis of the effects of European colonialism on Egyptian foreign policy due in three days? But he set his stylus down and said, "No, why?"

"Because I found the perfect thing for Bodes." She called up a website on her tablet and passed it over. "Look at it. No really. Look. Couldn't you imagine Bodhi's face when he unwraps that?"

Cassian studied the bomber jacket on Jyn's screen. Buttery chocolate-colored leather with a shearling collar, warm and thick and stylish. "He would love it. But the price - "

"I know, I know. That's why I'm showing you."

"Even half the cost is a lot," he said gently. "My budget is candy canes this year and even then it'll be the cheap ones."

"I can math," she said. "And you don't have to give me anything. Look, the more of us get on board, the smaller the individual cost will be. If I blackmail Leia and sweet-talk Han and you appeal to Kay's sense of logic - oh, hey, have you got anything on Han? Because I'm not so sure about my sweet-talking skills."

"You have this all planned out, don't you?"

"Bodes has had a shit year," she said. "We can't send him back to London to see his mum and sisters, but we can give him something."

He bumped his stylus against his lower lip. “Chewie will be in no problem, so ask him first and he'll make Han do it. And go by the Philosophy department to talk to Chirrut and Baze. They're both teaching this afternoon."

She grinned at him. "Right, I'll just have to catch Chirrut after his capstone seminar but before Baze gets out of his 101."

"Good thinking." Baze was always grumpy after a section of his Intro course, mumbling under his breath about pampered babies who wouldn't know Aristotelian ethics if it bit them on the ass. "Just don't let them pay for the whole thing. I want in. And I'll see who else I can round up."

"You're the best," she said. 

Two boys walked up, holding hands. "Hi, uh - "

Jyn leaned back in her chair. "Can we help you?"

"Are you guys using this table?"

"Uh, pretty obviously yeah."

"It's just that we kind of wanted to sit here."

"There's like a thousand other tables on this floor alone."

Although, Cassian reflected, none of the others were tucked away in a sunny corner behind bookshelves, private and quiet.

"I know, but - " The shorter guy blushed. "This one has the mistletoe on the window."

They both looked up. Cassian swore under his breath.

Jyn got up so fast she almost knocked her chair over. "All yours, lads," she said. 

--

When Jyn told her about the mistletoe issue, Leia was supremely unsympathetic. "So? You happen to see some Christmas decorations sometimes, and sometimes you happen to be with Cassian when you do. It's December and we live in a society that pushes a yearly orgy of consumerism with the promise that - "

"Blah blah late stage capitalism, yes, I know, but," Jyn said. "It's getting out of hand."

Leia looked skeptical. 

“I swear to you," Jyn said darkly, "that if Cassian comes along, a piece of mistletoe will materialize over our heads within twenty seconds."

"Confirmation bias," Leia said. 

"Is not!"

"Is," Leia said. "Mistletoe as a decoration is ridiculously common. Look, there’s some above the door right there.” Leia gestured at the door of the Echo Base Coffee Roastery. “And no Cassian.”

“Give it time,” Jyn said. 

Leia rolled her eyes. “It's not that the two of you are making it manifest, It's just that you're hyper-aware of it when you're with him." She smirked at her. "And why is that?"

"Because it's haunting us," Jyn growled.

"Because you want to kiss him so bad you're drooling," Leia said and bit into her scone. 

“So what if I am,” Jyn said, and slouched in her chair.

Leia stopped mid-chew. “Wow,” she said. “You really want to if you’re not denying it. So why haven't you just laid one on him?”

“He’s so calm,” she said. “I don’t know what he wants. He’s impossible to read. What if I slap lips on him and he screams and runs?”

Leia arched a brow. “Unlikely.”

Jyn pinched the bridge of her nose. “Look, I know what to do.”

“Slap lips on him, as you so romantically put it?”

“Nope. Avoid him until Boxing Day. You Americans rip everything down at 11:30 pm Christmas Day, and it’s like the holiday never existed. No mistletoe, no problem.”

“Yes,” Leia grinned, “but then it’s all Valentine's Day, all the time.”

Jyn’s face worked and then she huffed. “I’ll see you later.”

“You know I’m riiiiight,” Leia sang into her coffee cup, and Jyn made an obscene gesture. She stomped toward the door. Before she could grab the handle, it opened to reveal Cassian, Kay on his heels. 

He stopped.

She stopped. 

As if they’d practiced it, they both looked up at the mistletoe at the same time.

“Right,” Jyn said, pink-faced. “See you later then. Bye.” She nodded at their other housemate. “Kay.”

“Jyn,” Kay said, and stepped around her and Cassian both, announcing, “I advise you to get out of the way and permit the door to close. The wind is very cutting today."

“Right,” Cassian said. For a moment, he and Jyn performed a sort of awkward, shuffling dance as they both tried to pass through in opposite directions. Finally, Jyn was out, Cassian was in, and the door was closed.

Through the window to the left of the door, Jyn caught Leia’s eye. She pointed upward and mouthed I told you! Didn’t I tell you?! She was gesticulating so wildly she almost ran into a pole, and Leia made a dismayed sound.

Cassian looked at her. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” she said, watching Jyn scramble out of sight. “Just got some coffee down the wrong pipe.”

He looked doubtful, but turned back to Kay. “This is exactly what I was talking about. Now do you believe me?”

“Confirmation bias,” Kay said, surveying the offerings in the pastry case.

Leia smirked into her coffee again.

--

Jyn turned in her last final on the Thursday before Christmas, and slept like the dead for fourteen hours. 

She wasn't the only one. The house was full of post-finals zombies. When she shuffled out of her attic room and down the stairs in sock feet and ragged sweatpants, she found Chewie, eyes hidden behind his mop of hair, wandering around the second-floor hallway with a toothbrush in his mouth. "Done with the bathroom?" she asked.

He grunted, went back and spit out his toothbrush, came out, and grunted again. Interpreting that to mean all yours, she crawled into the shower and cranked it as hot as it would go. She counted herself lucky that she'd remembered to peel off her sweatpants first.

She felt more human by the time she snapped the water off and climbed out. The sweatpants went back on, but she promised herself that she'd trade them for clean clothes up in her room. Rambling out of the bathroom, rubbing a towel over her hair, she almost crashed directly into Cassian. "Uh," she said. "Hi."

"Hi."

"Hi." Shit, she'd said that already. She slouched against the doorjamb, hoping she looked incredibly casual and not like she was feeling self-conscious about being caught by him in her rattiest clothing. "How's the grading?"

"Turned in," he said. "You? How did your final project turn out?"

"All in. It's probably shit, but it's in."

"I'm sure it's not," he said.

She shrugged. "How's everyone else holding up? Does Bodhi still gibber when you say the words high pressure system to him?" Their friend's aeronautical meteorology class had kicked his ass. 

"He's downgraded to whimpers."

Somewhere off in the distance, the doorbell rang, with the four-note sequence of the Addams Family theme. (Chirrut thought it was funny.)

Jyn ignored it. Someone downstairs would get it and she didn't feel like moving. "Well, that's progress. We should go out tonight or something."

"Us?"

She choked. "Uh, yeah, all of us here in the house. Big, uh, big housemate post-finals party. Alcohol and cake and - " Debauchery, she almost said, and changed it to - "Frivolity."

"Maybe pizza to soak up the booze and sugar," he said.

"Right, yeah, that sounds good." She grinned. "The Mill?"

"That's a good choice. Han's so lazy he refuses to decorate for Christmas, so - "

"No mistletoe," she said brightly, and just like that it was all awkward between them.

She thought of Leia's skepticism that she'd be able to bury all this after Christmas. Especially with Valentine's Day coming up. 

He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck and averted his eyes. "Jyn, I - " He choked on the rest of his sentence, staring at a spot just over her head.

With a certain feeling of inevitability, she followed his gaze to see a sprig of mistletoe, hanging from the light fixture.

She dropped her eyes again and met his.

He said, "I still don't know who's putting those up."

"Me neither."

"At least in here," he added. 

"Right. Yeah. The Roastery and the library were probably . . . some poor worker who's getting paid minimum wage to climb on a ladder and - " She felt herself rambling and hiked up her chin. "Look, it's five days until Christmas. We don't know why these are suddenly turning up around us but it's just making it weirder and weirder, so I say we settle the question."

"The . . . question," he said carefully.

"Yeah. Let's just kiss and get it over with."

". . . That question."

The doorbell rang again, more insistently. Neither of them moved. 

She crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows. "Well?"

He swallowed. She followed the motion of his Adam's apple down his throat and felt herself break out in a sweat, heat thrumming at all her pulse points. She wasn't sure when she'd decided she wanted to lick his neck, but she did, she did. Maybe some heretofore unsuspected infection of vampirism.

"Maybe we should," he said in a low rumble.

She unfolded her arms and rested her hands high up on his chest. Damn, he was tall. She tilted her head back to meet Cassian's eyes, sticking her chin out in a dare. Go on, then.

Downstairs, a babble of voices broke out. They could have been in the next zip code for all Jyn cared. 

He put his hands to her waist, warm through her worn-thin Gerrera's Gym t-shirt, and leaned down. She shut her eyes just before his mouth brushed hers.

Dry, warm. Fleeting. Tendrils of agreeable heat began to curl through her belly.

Then he was gone.

She swallowed and opened her eyes again, feeling the tendrils of heat curl themselves into nothing.

Her body hummed with tension and dissatisfaction. Was that it? Was that little taste all she was getting?

Even though the light fixture and its stupid, stupid mistletoe was right above their heads, she couldn't read his expression.

She dropped her hands. "Okay. That's done, th-" 

The last word was cut off by his mouth covering hers again. Her back hit the wall so hard the light fixture rattled. She ignored it, too busy winding her arms around his neck and pressing herself against him, kissing back hungrily.

This, now. This.

If the first kiss had been a taste, this was a five-course banquet. They devoured each other, tongues and teeth and lips and hands. His hands slid south of her waist, clamping on her ass and hauling her into the arc of his body. She whimpered and hooked one leg over his hip. He pressed her harder into the wall and licked into her mouth.

She gasped aloud when he left her mouth and started kissing her neck. Somehow, both her legs were locked around his hips, and his hands - Jesus, he had good hands. She felt like a volcano, all liquid heat inside and liable to go off at the slightest provocation.

"That's more like it," she said, and nipped at his ear.

"I've been wanting to do that since September," he said against her neck.

"So why didn't - ohhh," she groaned as his teeth scraped her skin.

"I'm usually very good at reading people. But I find you impossible to predict."

She grabbed his head in her hands and stared into his eyes. "Take me back to your room and fuck my brains out," she said. "How's that for a read?"

He rocked against her and demonstrated he had no problem with her proposed course of action. "Your room would be better."

"Yours is closer."

He kissed her hard. "I'm next to Kay."

"So," she mumbled into his mouth. 

"He's asleep."

"So?"

"I don't intend to be quiet."

Oh. Oh damn. There went her last brain cell. "Right," she gasped. "My room it is."

--

Over at the Mill some hours later, Leia watched them snuggle in a booth with a little smirk. 

She'd been keeping an eye on that, texting her brother with regular updates. Luke always liked hearing the gossip from her house, especially any news of a certain British-Pakistani aeronautics major. She'd always thought Cassian and Jyn had a certain similarity, under their wildly differing outer presentation. And of course they'd been thirsting for each other practically since they'd met. They made a cute couple.

The smirk turned into a blush when they started kissing and groping each other again. Okay, whenever they got over that in public, they would be a cute couple.

She turned toward the bar and the giant bowl of eggnog that Han Solo had rustled up. Call him what you like - and she did - he could pull a party together.

Bodhi was already there, pouring himself some. "Want one?"

"Absolutely," she said, leaning up next to him. "So - the mistletoe."

He ducked his head and made a sort of grunt.

"You were the one putting it all up in the house, right?" She'd noticed Bodhi decorating for the holiday as early as Thanksgiving morning. 

"Yep," he said on a sigh, passing her a full glass.

She chortled and took a sip that threatened to curl her eyebrows. It was very strong. She blinked and shook her head. When her tongue had regained feeling, she pursued her line of questioning. "What, did you just get tired of watching them orbit around each other for the past few months?"

"Actually . . ." He looked down into his own glass. "It wasn't for them."

She sputtered out her next sip of eggnog. "Say again?"

He sighed. "I had a whole plan. Remember how Luke was supposed to come for Thanksgiving?"

"And his flight got cancelled, yeah."

"And then he was supposed to crash on our couch over break?"

"And then his advisor asked him to stay to work on some 'special project'?" She made a face. She wouldn't be forgiving Professor Yoda anytime soon for attempting to deprive her of her twin. "But - "

"Well, I figured if there was all this mistletoe up, it would be sort . . . of . . . romantic," he mumbled.

Her hand stopped. "Bodhi," she said, slowly and clearly. "How long have you been crushing on my brother?"

"Look, I wasn't trying to be creepy - "

"Of course you weren't," she said. "Just - how long?"

He shook his head. "It's dumb, it doesn't matter."

A voice from behind him said, "I'm interested."

Bodhi whipped around to see Luke standing behind him, face bright and hopeful. "What - you - when?"

"A few hours ago," Luke said. "I drove overnight. I was taking a nap in her room until just now." He toasted Leia with his beer. "She left me a text to come on over."

Bodhi was still goggling at him, the tips of his ears going brick-red. "But I thought - " 

"I excused myself from the project. Professor Yoda's not too happy, but I don't care. So, uh, what was my sister saying? About you and mistletoe, and me?"

They wandered off, eyes only for each other, hands bumping. No need for mistletoe. 

Leia laughed to herself and drank more eggnog.

"Hey, princess, look what I found!" Han leaned over the bar and dangled a sprig of mistletoe over their heads. "Pucker up."

She tossed her eggnog in his face and marched off, refusing to reflect on the not-small part of her that had been intrigued. It would take more than mistletoe to get her to lock lips with Han Solo.

FINIS

[pilot-boi]

Shouting In Cafes: Chapter Eleven

Allies And Betrayals

Neptune’s roommate has been appraised of the situation, for better or for worse. Currently, Neptune is going with worse.

AO3 LINK

“I thought Jaune was turning into your psychiatrist, why am I the one doing this?” Scarlet complained as he dipped his brush in the nail polish and painted on another layer. Bright sky blue. Like Sun’s eyes. Nope, don’t think about that. “Shouldn't you get an actual psychiatrist?”

“Yeah, well,” Neptune sighed. He propped up his head on one fist, spreading the other out before him as his roommate painted on the color across Neptune’s nails. “You know I’m broke as hell. And Jaune is at his sister’s this weekend.

“Nice to know I’m the fallback plan.”

“And you like drama.”

“That’s fair.”

It had been three days since the Sun Incident and two days since Neptune last went to work. Also two days since Neptune had left his dorm. Two days since he had cleaned said dorm, and the place was an utter wreck. Food containers everywhere, papers scattered across his bed, clothes all over the floor.

“Scarlet, tell me to clean my room.”

He paused mid brush stroke. “Why?”

“Look around you! It’s disgusting. And you’re my roommate, isn’t it your job to yell at me about this stuff?”

“It is, thank you for acknowledging that, but it’s not my room, so your room is fine.”

“No, it’s not!”

“You have one empty water bottle on your desk, and one pair of pants on your floor. Believe me, this is nothing. You should see Sage’s room.”

“I need to get outside.”

“Wasn’t this how we started this talk?” Scarlet asked knowingly, his accent catching on the words and lilting them slightly.

Oh right. That’s why Neptune was holed up inside.

He lived every waking moment in fear of seeing Sun. After the disaster that was the re-meeting and planning the possible hang out session, Neptune hadn’t heard anything from him, and somehow that was worse. 

He could be tackled the second he left this room. Sun could flood his phone with texts in the middle of class. He could pop out of nowhere, take his hand, claim they were going to get matching tattoos, and shove him into a car.

Sun Wukong was easily the most chaotic maybe-friend that Neptune had ever had. And he was nowhere near prepared.

“Oh, yeah,” Caesar continued. “I actually just remembered that I never need to leave this place again.”

“Neptune, this isn’t how you make friends.”

“Oh not you, too. Please don’t tell me Jaune has gotten you involved in his little crusade,” Neptune groaned rolling his eyes.

“Maybe he has, maybe he hasn’t. Who’s to say. This still isn’t the right way to go about being friends with this guy.”

“Yeah, well, not fulfilling texting promises isn’t a way to make friends either!” Nptune pouted. Not that he wanted to be friends with Sun. It was just the principal of the thing. Yeah that was it. Scarlet didn’t look convinced. 

“He’s probably just loving the idea of catching me at just the wrong moment. Like, when I’m on a date with someone he’ll blow up my phone with kissy emojis. Or if I’m in the library, he’ll find me and just tackle me into a bookshelf.”

“You’ve been thinking a lot about this.” Scarlet smirked, his tattoo wrinkling around his eye. 

Oh god not him, too. “It’s not like that, man. I keep telling Jaune it’s not like that, and I swear to God it’s not like that.”

“Okay, okay, okay. Sure. Other hand.”

Neptune sat up straight, taking back his freshly painted hand and offering up the other one for Scarlet. His roommate shook the bottle with a little too much aggression. “Neptune. You promised Jaune you would make some friends. Do it for Jaune.”

Neptune winced. Now Scarlet and Jaune were communicating. His life would never know peace after this moment. “Jaune isn’t even here. You don’t get to use him as a tool to guilt me.”

“I had to.”

“Yeah I’m sure you did. He’s just�� A lot.”

“He’s nice.”

“You’ve never met him! And he’s loud.”

“Passionate.”

“He wears really bad T-shirts.”

“Now that is unforgivable.”

“And why hasn’t he texted me? I don’t even think he likes me.”

Scarlet froze in the act of brushing paint onto one of Neptune’s nails. “You’re worried about him? And you’re worried that he doesn’t like you?!” Scarlet’s smile was an evil smile. Curse him. “You’re blushing.”

Neptune flushed. “No I’m not! And I don’t care if he likes me! Because I don’t like him!”

“Yes, you do! You definitely do!”

“Scarlet!”

“A beautiful relationship is beginning, I can tell.”

“You’re worse than Jaune.”

“Hey!” Scarlet swatted his shoulder without much force, then tossed his head to get his hair out of his eyes. “Fine, fine. I’ll lay off. Why don’t you just text him first?”

“We’re not having this conversation. This isn’t fucking highschool, dude.”

“You’re the one being a little bitch about it, Neptune! Just be a man and text your potential boyfriend!”

“He’s not my boyfriend!”

Scarlet swatted at his shoulder a couple more times. “You’re so immature! Fine. If you won’t text him, I will.” With that, Scarlet leaned across Neptune and started grabbing for his phone.

It took Neptune a few seconds to realize what was happening as Scarlet searched the bed behind him without any hint of grace or subtlety. As soon as he let out a small “Ah ha!” Neptune’s eyes went impossibly wide and he yelped and shot towards Scarlet’s hand.

Just as his fingers were about to touch the sheets and his phone, Scarlet said, “Your nails are still wet!” A diversion tactic.

But it worked. Because Neptune immediately drew back as if he had just touched an open flame.

His roommate held his prize over his head, smirking slyly and staring straight into Neptune’s eyes. Neptune was busy holding his hands awkwardly in the air in front of him to prevent his nails from touching anything. 

“I know you don’t believe me, but I will kill you.” Scarlet raised one eyebrow, clearly doubtful. “I swear to God, I will take one of your shitty pirate swords, and I will kill you. I’ll do it. I know where you sleep.”

“First off, no you won’t. Second, my cutlasses are incredible and how dare you insult them.”

“I will kill you. And no, they’re lame.”

“They are not, but whatever,” Scarlet brushed off, settling against the pillows to type. ‘Sun,’” Scarlet started, his nails clicking on the screen. “No. Too impersonal. Needs a nickname for your man. Sunny. No wait.” A wicked smile spread across his face. “Sunshine.”

At this point, Neptune leapt forward again, arms swinging wildly, but Scarlet darted off the bed and out of the way. “Hi!’” Scarlet continued, reading stiltedly as he typed. “I just wanted to text you about when we were hanging out because I was getting super worried L-M-A-O.”

“Scarlet! I’m going to murder you!”

“Don’t jerk around so much. You’re going to make the polish fall over.”

Neptune risked a glance down and saw the open blue nail polish tilting dangerously from side to side. He snatched it up, screwed the top on securely, and set it on the floor. This, of course, only gave Scarlet more time to type.

“We can do whatever you want, exclamation point winky face. Whatever you want.” He paused. “I added like five A’s to that ‘whatever,’ by the way.”

“Scarlet!” Neptune went to tackle him again, but he stuck out a hand and planted it on his forehead like an older sibling. 

“Get back A-S-A-P. Your bestie, Neptune. Okay, I sent it.” Scarlet released his head and Neptune’s momentum carried him down onto the bed sheets. Scarlet’s laugh sounded borderline demonic when muffled by all the blankets. Full Bond supervillain.

“What the fuck, dude?!” Neptune exclaimed, pushing himself up out of the blankets.

“Nothing was getting done,” Scarlet shrugged, looking thoroughly unbothered. “You can thank me later. Here’s your phone.”

Just as Scarlet tossed Neptune his phone, it vibrated. Neptune tried to shake off his irritation, furiously tamped down his excitement at Sun responding, and pressed his phone up to his face. His stupid glasses had fallen off in the struggle, and the stupid tiny words were too tiny.

Monkey King: yeah sure dude im down!!! i have a great idea for what we can do

Monkey King: meet me outside your dorm in an hour bring ur phone its imporant

Monkey King: *important

Monkey King: nicknames are a go btw?? hell yea boi!!!!!

“He doesn’t have autocorrect turned on,” Neptune said numbly. He was in shock.

“Who the hell does?” Scarlet asked from over his shoulder.

“I do.” Neptune glanced at him before elbowing him away. “Don’t read my texts, man!”

Scarlet crossed his arms. “Hey, I sent the messages. I should at least get to read the response.”

“I didn’t ask you to text him in the first place!”

“Well, at least I got things moving. If I’d left it up to you, nothing would have ever happened. You would have just languished in here until I’d have to call the RA’s to drag your body away.”

“Holy shit,” Neptune nearly dropped his phone, a look of horror spreading across his face.

“What?” Scarlet stopped negging him for once. “What’s wrong?”

“I only have an hour to get dressed!”

“Oh shit.”

[hitchell-mope]

(Third film. After “The Phoenix”. In Audrey’s bedroom she’s explaining what she knows to the vks)

Audrey:...and the last time I saw him he was getting out his violin. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help

Mal: no, thank you Audrey. I um I figured it’d be something like that

Harriet: you don’t wanna be doin that during a crisis

Uma: ahem notaeuphemism, notaeuphemism

Harriet: ohhhh

Harry: tch sounds like one though

Mal: alright. Both of you. Not a peep out of either of you two crackpots for the rest of the millennium

Uma: eh, sounds fair.

Mal: are you doing ok. Chad going crazy, it must be horrible for you

Evie: oh who cares. She’s probably the cause of it

Mal: Evie shut up

Audrey: she’s right. It’s my fault. If I hadn’t left I

Mal: what happened

Audrey: after what happened to you guys on the bridge. We went back to his room. He forbade me to see you guys or be friends with you any more. I tried to leave and then he grabbed my wrist and tried to get me to stay

Mal: I’m gonna kill him. I’m gonna rip him apart limb from limb

Audrey: I read him the riot act. And I left. It’s my fault. If I’d stayed I could’ve stopped him

Mal: if you stayed. Then we’d be fighting you right now. And it not your fault. Chad’s problems are Chad’s problems. Not yours or anyone else’s

Jay: oh my god

Mal: what?

Jay: he wants her

Mal: huh?

Jay: he wants to be king. And he never forgave you for Ben dumping Audrey because she was being a swot to you. He’s like an equally pathetic and creepy version of harry. Psychotically devoted to who he thinks is the perfect woman

Mal: holy shit

Evie: well then we know hey we have to do.

Mal: no

Evie (blatantly ignoring her sister): we give her to chad. They both burn to death. We’re home free

Uma: I can’t believe I’m saying this but it could work

Mal: no it couldn’t. Because. A. Chad’s power mad. B. Even it could work then we’d still have a homicidal dark fairy on our hands.

Uma: shit you’re right. Ah well only one thing to do

Hadie: what’s that?

Uma: rifle through her shit while she’s in a depressive episode

(She starts doing just that. Pulling out books from shelves, tearing down clothes from the wardrobe, until she finds something of interest)

Audrey: um excuse me. That’s my diary

Uma: I know. That’s why I’m reading it.

Audrey: yeah but it’s really old. From a time in my life I’m not exactly proud of so if

Uma (reading and ignoring her please): “Eighth of March. They’re here. Poor Benny boo is too nice to see it but I know the truth. They want my throne. That little purple skidmark, the magic mop head, Mouthoff and that spindly freckle faced...” Woah, and you still wanna protect her after all this?

Evie: she’s Mal’s friend. Not ours. And even then. It’s only because Mal feels guilty

Uma (rifling through the pages): lets see now it’s gotta be somewhere here. Oh yeah. “Eighth of April. I can’t believe it. He dumped me. All because I was reading that stuck up little handbag the riot act. She’s got to have used a love potion because there’s no way in hell Ben would dump me for sowing one so poor and ugly. At least I’ve got chad as a fallback. That little witch has gotten too comfortable. It might be time to shake things up as it were”. So how’d ya do it?

Mal: do what?

Uma: trap lil beasty boy. Cause there’s no way in hell he jumped you willingly

Mal: why the fuck would I spell Ben? Who the fuck do you think I am? You?

Harry: what’s that supposed mean?

Jay: it means you hypnotised Ben before the cotillion last year. Or have you forgotten about that?

Harry: cut me some slack alright? Sometimes I can’t remember what happened yesterday. Which for me in fact it was actually. See as I lost a year of me life

Carlos: oh boo fricking hoo dickbrain

Uma: oh look there’s more. “Tenth of June. I’m an idiot. A pink frilly stupid idiot. I was completely wrong about Mal and the others. She saved my life. I tried to kill her and she saved my life. How could I be so stupid. They had no choice but they chose to save me when they could have let me burn. I have to make things right. It’s the only way”. Damn Ophelia. When do you jump into the lake?

Audrey: it’s um ahem that’s the last diary entry. I didn’t feel like making another one.

Uma: then you wouldn’t mind if it do this

(She frisbees the dusty into the empty fireplace and sets it alight. Audrey runs up to stop her but is held fast by the hook sisters)

Audrey: please, please. They’re my mother’s diaries. It was a for my fourteen birtday

Uma: oh yeah? Well do you know what I got for my fourteenth birthday? A triple unpaid shift at the restaurant where I work for a roof over my head.

Mal: Uma! Leave her alone

Jay: yeah she’s ignorant. She doesn’t know what it’s like over there. And she can’t be held accountable for what Adam did

Uma: you all can (she grabs Audrey by the throat) now. What do you suggest we do with her highness?

Cj: how about we make sure her incessant prattling is stopped forever more?

Harry: ooh good choice.

Harriet: but how do we silence her?

Uma: hmmmmm...OOH! I know. Harry your pocket watch please

(He hands her the watch and she throws it into the mirror above the mantlepiece through which it disappears)

Uma: see ya feckers

Mal: NO WAIT NO!

(Uma freezes the other Vks with magic, chucks Audrey through the mirror, sending her falling through the blackness and teleports her and the hooks to the same place. This is when “this is Halloween” happens. After the song. Carlos blurs for a second and the spell ends)

Carlos: of course. Now what to do first. Hmmmmm. Right! Gil. C’mon buddy. Wakey wakey

(He double taps Gil and the shoulder and the blonde starts moving again)

Gil: owww. We have to save her don’t we?

Carlos: unfortunately. Yes

Gil: shit.

Carlos: tally ho my friend

(They both jump into the mirror and land in a watch)

Gil: where are we?

Carlos: a pocket watch. Your ex’s pocket watch I believe judging by how it’s kaput

Gil: oh yeah. Yah um. James kept smashing it so he stopped asking me to fix it after the fifth time it was thrown at his head

Carlos: that explains so much yet absolves absolutely nothing

Gil: stands to reason

(Audrey’s muffled screams can be heard from their right)

Carlos: this way?

Gil: yep

(They head off in a northern direction and sure enough they’re Audrey. Bound to a clockwork chair. Mouth gaffes with tape. Carlos almost releases her but Uma steps out of the darkness followed by the hooks)

Uma: I wouldn’t do that if I were you

Carlos: really? You wouldn’t do this if you were me? Well if I were you then I wouldn’t kidnap the friend of the future queen

Harry: back off you son of a bitch

Carlos: kill me and we both go down you skinny ass rooster brain

Doug: oh my god they got you too

(Everyone turns around to see Doug standing there looking downright haunted)

Carlos: Doug what are you doing here

Doug: mirrors are connected.

Carlos: right. Wanna help us free Audrey from the grim grinning ghosts?

Doug: eh sure why not. I’ve got nothing better to do until the spells broken.

Gil: yay. The normies are back in business. Shame Lon-Lon isn’t here though

Doug: who calls ya normies?

Gil: you had nightmares. Lots of them

Doug: those ice packs were from you?

Gil: yeah. When people have nightmares they get incredibly heated.

Carlos: this is true. Jay ices his hands when I have nightmares

Harry: hey, dipshit! Are we gonna talk or are we gonna obligate you?

Doug: it’s obliterate dickless. Not obligate

Harry: I don’t care

Audrey: *muffled sounds of protests*

Doug: yeah we’re not on you right now

Carlos: lemme talk to Uma. C’mon captain

(They walk a little way away from the others)

Uma: what?

Carlos: you don’t wanna do this

Uma: oh? Why not?

Carlos: because it interferes with your plans Uma. No matter how many times you say to the contrary. We know you. 9 times out of ten your need to one up and hurt Mal outweigh your desire to help the island. But I’m telling you. Let your altruism win out instead of your sadism. Not killing Audrey might not be fun. Believe. Jay Evie and I have fantasised about it many a time. But right here right now. Your best bet is to let bygones be bygones. Capiche?

Uma: no. Still gonna killer her

Carlos: I thought you’d say that

(This is when “I will not bow” happens. After the song Harry hurls the debris at Carlos who explodes it into to dust)

Carlos: so you really do have magic. I thought Evie siphoned it off?

Doug: it’s the “mother hauling a car off her child” reaction. Uma was in danger and Harry reacted instinctively

Carlos (sarcastically): perfect

Harry: and now, I’m gonna finish what I started in the alleyway

(His eyes glow blood red and he charges at Carlos. Who just peruses a few buttons on his wrist so a force fiend forms in front of him knocking the pirate off course. Harry roars in anger and his hair ignites in blood red flame. Gil punches him in the face and his hair goes out)

Carlos (utterly disgusted): oh. My. God.

(The brown is Harris hair has burned away to black)

Carlos: what the fuck. Is-is that natural or is it the ember?

Harry: you what?

Harriet: your hair. It’s black again.

Harry: no my hairs brown

Cj: no brother dear. Your hair is black. Again. Like it hasn’t been since you asked Uma to lather it in boot polish when you were six

Harry (absolutely traumatised): no! NO IT AINT

Doug: yes. Yes it is.

(He uses the selfie function on his phone camera as a mirror. Harry takes one look and screams in melancholy and assumes the foetal position)

Carlos: what the fuck

Cj (long suffering sigh): you see, my siblings hair is naturally black. Harriet is our fathers favourite. Harry is not. So Harry asked Uma to dye his hat brown when he was six. And hasn’t looked back since.

Carlos: and you

Cj: I’m a natural blonde. I’m Gil’s cousin. His mother’s the middle bimbette. My mother is the youngest bimbette.

Carlos: we would not be out of place in Storybrooke.

Doug and Gil: nope

Carlos: so! Here’s what we’re gonna do. Uma, you and the tweedle twits are gonna come with me back to the home side. Gil, I can count on you to untie miss priss?

Gil (cheerfully): Roger! Doug, you can come back with us

Carlos and Doug: no, absolutely not

Doug: I need need to stay here in the mirror world until my body wakes up. If I go through with you guys I’ll die.

Carlos: your body and mind are safe. You might need to hide. If you stay here. Evie will most certainly kill Audrey

(Audrey screams in protest)

Carlos: oh we all know she’ll blame you. She hates you enough as it is already. And if...fucks sake I can’t take you seriously looking like that (he rips the tape off her mouth ignoring her screams of pain) that’s much better. If she sees Doug in the Moore she will blame you and she will kill you

Audrey (conceding): that’s fair

Carlos: now. Let’s see, how am I going to do this. Oh! I know!

(He uses his exosuit to shove the girls through the mirror, not noticing Harry using his own magic to root Doug to the spot. Gil hoists up both Harry and Audrey and, together with Carlos jumps back to the real world. Once there Carlos makes Uma reverse the spell which she does without complaint)

Uma: you of course realise you are incredibly dangerous to people with that exosuit?

Carlos: That was the idea. Gil could you put Audrey on the bed please

Mal: what happened?

Carlos: oh the usual. Uma let her instincts get in the way of logical thinking.

Mal: of course

Evie: Doug? Doug! Oh my god. Doug wait right there

Carlos: shield Audrey

Mal: what

Carlos: trust me on this mom. This not going to end well

Harry (aside to Uma): watch this

(He uses magic to bring Doug, who’s futilely trying to get away, closer to the glass)

Evie (climbing up on the mantelpiece and tapping on the glass): Doug. Honey I’m here. What..what’s wrong? Why can’t I get through? Let me through. Let me through. Dammit let me through. Let me go to him for fucks sake let me through. (She starts banging on the glass with her fists) LET ME THROUGH. LEMME THROUGH. LET ME GO TO HIM LET ME THROUGH! PLEASE (her eyes start glowing and the mirror starts to crack) LET ME THROUGH LET ME THROUGH! (She starts sobbing). LET ME THROUGH. LET ME GO TO HIM. PLEAE

Carlos: jay get her, now!

(Jay lifts her up by the waist, still screaming and crying, and pulls her away from the mirror. Doings hands remain on the glass where hers were)

Evie (still crying): why can’t I why can’t why can’t I go to him? It should be easy I have magic Uma’s not that much more powerful than me I should be able to get through why can’t I get through? (She stops crying, jay lets her go and her voice evens out) you. You did this. He’s doing this because of you. It’s all YOUR FAULT

(She launches at Audrey intent on scratching the princesses eyes out but Jay and Gil grab her just in time)

Evie: LET ME KILL HER

Mal: no!

Evie: IF SHE DIES HE’LL STOP

Mal: but Maleficent won’t. Do you really want to take that chance?

Evie (extremely reluctantly): n...no

Mal: ok then. Put her down guys. And just where the hell are you going?

Uma (hand on the door handle): I can’t stay here. I. I just can’t. (Harry makes his way to her). And nobody! Nobody. Nobody, follow me

Harriet: you heard her Har. Stay here

(Uma leaves the room. She magically deadbolts and soundproofs the door and then sinks to the floor crying her eyes out. That is until she senses someone approaching her)

Uma (thickly): go away. There’s an attack on this dump. People are dropping like bats. Find a nice soft spot to collapse if you know what’s good for you

Adam: I know there’s an attack on the school dear. I’m part of it you see. Don’t bother getting up. This will be over quickly. I just wanted to tell you that what’s about to happen is entirely deserved.

Uma: you’re him aren’t you? Beast

Adam: THAT’S NOT MY... (he takes a deep breath). That’s not my name. My name is Adam

Uma: yeah don’t care. To us you’re the beast. The bastard boogeyman who damned to the island

Adam: like I said it was deserved

Uma (scoffing): huh! Deserved? Really? You really think what you did to us was deserved? How fucking delusional can you get?

Adam: no more delusional than you thinking that I can be stoppped.

Uma: what did she offer you?

Adam: my kingdom back. And your kind flung back to the scrap heap where you all belong.

Uma: not if I have anything to do about it

Adam (scoffing): what can you do. You’re a child who’s oh so very far from home. And I’m a man with years of experience.

Uma: you’re a crackpot, corrupt politician. And I have magic that you cannot even begin to comprehend

Adam: is that so?

Uma: damn straight. I can tear you apart without even touching you.

Adam: care to put that to the test?

Uma: your move. Five paces?

Adam: of course

(They move to opposite sides of the corridor. This is when “calling all the monsters” happens. After the song Adam slashes off one of her tentacles and she falls to the ground screaming in pain. While all this is going on Harry is desperately trying to open the door)

Hadie: Harry it’s no use. She’s deadbolted it. It won’t be lifted until she chooses to.

Harry: there has to be a way. Use me as a battering ram

Carlos: nobody here wants to touch you

Harry: have you got any right ideas?

Jay: it’s bright ideas. And we don’t want you to be happy so why would we help you

(At the mantlepiece Evie’s got an idea)

Mal: there’s no guarantee that’d work Evie

Evie: I have to do something. I can’t just leave him there. He shouldn’t be alone. Please if blood or, or family mean anything to you then help me make sure he’s not alone.

Mal: I’m doing this for Doug and Doug only. Let’s see here (she flips through the spell book) damn. What you want to do counts as love. Sorry.

Hadie: what’s counts as love

Mal: Evie wants to send part of her consciousness into the mirror to keep Doug company. But her love for him is the driving factor. And Maleficent ripped out and burned the last one hundred pages of the book contains love spells because real feelings need to be there for it to work and according to her I’m not worthy of love.

Cj: she’s a smart lady

(Mal clicks her fingers, CJ’s leg snaps in two and she collapses in pain)

Hadie: restoration spell?

Mal: at the coronation. It didn’t work.

Hadie: May I?

Mal: go ahead.

(Hadie takes the book, flips it and mutters a spell in Ancient Greek. The book glows bright steely grey then returns to normal. He opens the book and the pages are restored)

Evie (pulling him into a bear hug): thank you thank you thank you

Mal: you’re gonna have to do it. The spell is incredibly painful. It says here part of you has to be physically ripped out for it to work. And our friendship is tenuous at best. So it’s best if you do it. Audrey get in the crawl space. Jay shield Gil. Carlos c’mere. The blowback could be dangerous to mortals

Cj: pardon me for asking but what of my siblings and I?

Mal: I don’t care about you

Evie: if this doesn’t work?

Hadie: then Doug will remain asleep until Maleficent is defeated

Evie (voice breaking): then dont fuck it up. Please

Hadie (chuckling sadly): I promise I’ll try not to. Ready

Evie: do it

(He takes the ember, puts it in the middle of her forehead and starts chanting in Ancient Greek. Evie starts to glow bright blue. Then she starts screaming in pain. Blue light shoots out of her hands and face. Harriet gets thrown into the wall followed by Cj. Harry, still trying to wrest the door open, gets thrown into a large Ming vase. Jay, Mal, Carlos, Hadie, Evie and Gil stay standing. Celia remains on the bed. The light stops. Evie nearly collapses but Hadie catches her)

Jay: wow. Is that?

Evie: he’s what I see yeah

(A ghostly version of Doug’s standing in front of them. He’s dressed like a vk. Everything about him from skinn to clothes to eyes is completely blue all over and glowing)

Evie: go through the mirror. Go to Doug. Be whatever he needs you to be. I’ll be fine. Just go to Doug. Now.

(Ghostly Doug turns to smoke and floats through the mirror. His form changes to Evie in her coronation dress. The front of her loosely braided and pinned back. Real Doug looks completely shocked)

Evie: oh! Ohhhh dear. This isn’t what you wanted. Do you want me in jeans? I can wear jeans if you’d prefer. Or is the hair not right. I know! It’s the shoes. Haha. Wrong shoes

(Doug pulls her into a hug which she returns relievedly)

Doug: you look perfect. You always do. But how

Evie: magic. I’m not really her. I’m just part of her consciousness.

Doug: of course.

Evie: do you really like the dress?

Doug: yes. It’s Evie’s favourite so its my favourite

Evie: you’re incredibly sweet did you know that?

Doug: no.

Evie: why not?

Doug: because nobody’s ever said that to me before

Evie: well you are. Sweet brave kind and

Doug: I’m sorry. I tried to protect the twins and I’m sorry. Maleficent got to them. I failed.

Evie: what Maleficent and chad do isn’t your fault.

Doug: I—

Evie: she knows. Trust me. She knows

Doug: it’s really difficult to say

Evie: I know. That’s what makes it important

Doug (chuckling): so uh. What do we do now?

Evie: we wait. We wait until we win.

Doug: and until then.

Evie: we could

Doug: no.

Evie: damn. Worth a try

Doug: always.

Evie: how about a dance. You can practice here and wow Evie later

Doug: sounds good to me

Evie: you lead?

Doug: I’ve offered to let Evie lead but she always insists on letting me lead

Evie: she’s a smart girl

Doug: yes. Yes she is. May I have this dance

Evie: yes sir you may

(This is when “come what may” happens. As this happens Uma’s pained screams undo the soundproofing spell she put on the door alerting everyone else to her predicament)

[arabian-bloodstream]

Oh, my precious babies! So endgame!

OK, I have a feeling that some people may be worried a tad bit about the Arya/Gendry scene in the latest episode of Game of Thrones. Me personally? I loved it. SO VERY HARD. I thought that it was beautiful and that scene as well as EVERYTHING with them in this episode totally re-confirmed to me that Gendrya are absolutely endgame and indeed are the ship that was promised.

When Gendry told Arya that he loved her, she looked so scared. And when he said that he wanted her to be with him, to be the Lady of Storm's End, my poor baby girl looked terrified. And that made perfect sense. Think of how the episode began. There she was laying fire down on a funeral pyre for a man who had sacrificed himself to save her life. A man that she had once placed on her kill list... and he died horribly, brutally to ensure that she lived. And she felt the pain of that. After being numb for so long, she's only recently begun to allow herself to begin to feel again, to be human again, to feel the pain of loss, of, well, pain. She doesn't want that feeling again. And she doesn't want Gendry getting hurt or dying because of her or at all. She never wants to feel that pain. So she's going back to the numb persona she'd adopted before she went back home to Winterfell, before she saw Gendry again. She is going to go to King's Landing; she's going to finish her list, kill Cersei Lannister and she doesn't expect to survive regicide.

And so she kissed him sweetly and softly and she told him that he would be a wonderful lord and any lady would be lucky to have him because she wants him to be happy, and, yes, because she does love him. You could see that written all over her. She loves him so much, it was shining all over her face, radiating from her very being. However, Gendry Baratheon (not Rivers--seriously, where the fuck did Rivers come from?!) is life and Arya is once again choosing death. She has to make the choice to choose life. And she will. She will choose life. She will choose Gendry. She's just not there yet.

Maisie Williams mentioned in her pre-season press tour that Arya would be torn and that is something that we haven't seen yet. This, I believe, is what she was talking about. Arya will be torn between choosing death or life. Which brings me to another couple of key scenes that led me to my Gendrya=The Ship That Was Promised affirmation status: the first and last scene with the Hound.

In the first scene, Gendry and the Hound were at the feast celebrating the North's victory over the undead--Arya's victory. And, of course, Arya was nowhere to be found.

Gendry: Have you seen Arya? The Hound: You can still smell the burning bodies and that's where your head is at? Gendry: I just want to thank her-- The Hound: I'm sure you do. Gendry: Look, it's not about that. The Hound: Of course it's about that, you twat. Why shouldn't it be? The dead are dead. You're not.

The Hound made it pretty clear he was well aware that Gendry wanted to *be* with Arya and when Gendry tried to deny it, the Hound called him on it and, surprisingly, pointed out that it was exactly what he should be doing. Now, let's make this clear. Gendry wanted to celebrate LIFE with *Arya* and the Hound flat-out told him that such was exactly the thing he should be doing.

Contrast this with the final conversation the Hound has in the episode.

Arya: You're heading to King’s Landing. The Hound: I have some unfinished business. Arya: Me too. The Hound: I don't plan on coming back. Arya: Neither do I.

So we have the show using The Hound to illustrate that *Gendry* is life as Gendry wanted to celebrate life with Arya--who you remember was "celebrating" by shooting arrows at a target--and on the opposite spectrum, that Arya has indeed once more chosen a life of death. Now, at the end of that discussion, he also asked that if he needs her to kill him, will she just leave him to not die again and she said probably... which means, that they probably will wind up in a situation like that, but this time she will give him mercy. However, before she does, he’ll tell her to choose life. Something like: Go get that blacksmith cunt that’s always mooning over you and have lots of black-haired babies with him. Don’t be like me. Don’t chase death your whole life. Live.

Gah, this was such brilliant framing in the writing and set-up. So, so good. Well-done, D.B. Weiss and David Benioff.

OK, moving on. The three most foreshadowed couples in George R.R. Martin's series A Song of Ice and Fire are Arya and Gendry, Jaime and Brienne and Jon and Daenerys. In this episode, we saw all three highlighted in a romantic scenario one right after the other and it was quite interesting how each was presented. I've already broken down the Arya and Gendry scene, let me touch briefly on the other two couples before jumping back to Gendrya.

Jaime and Brienne shared some banter, a passionate kiss, and then a cut with an implication of lovemaking to Jon and Dany. These two, again, some discussion, a passionate kiss that ended before continued discussion that did not end well. My point in bringing this up is that by the end of the episode...

Arya and Gendry got not one, not two, but three sweet, romantic kisses. Gendry kissed her. Arya kissed him. And then they shared a third mutual kiss. All three were so sweetly, beautifully romantic.

Jaime and Brienne and Jon and Daenerys both shared one passionate kiss neither shared a romantic one.

Jaime and Brienne effectively began and ended their relationship very sadly and in tears in this one episode. Yes, it could continue and be repaired, but Jaime is going back to the only woman he's ever loved besides Brienne, and she's a woman that he's loved desperately, hopelessly for his entire life. It does not look promising.

Jon and Dany did not end their scene on a happy note, and every bit of discussion about their future relationship all but screamed: It ain't happening because everyone's gonna know they're aunt and nephew, and that ain't happening.

Gendry loves Arya. Arya loves Gendry. From a narrative point of view, a show does not spend three episodes showing a character begin to recapture their humanity only to have her throw it all away and choose death when she's got life and love waiting for her. If that was going to happen... it would have been Gendry she burned on the funeral pyre.

One of the most important scenes in Arya and Gendry's story was when he chose to stay with the Brotherhood without Banners. He did so because he'd never had a family and he chose them for that chance to have one. Arya told him then that he could be her family. We know because Maisie Williams told us that she was directed to say that line like "I love you," and that was the take that was used. Gendry's response was that she wouldn't be his family, she would be "milady." Bluntly put, Arya offered herself to Gendry and he turned her down. This scene in this episode was a reverse of *that* scene. In other words, it's putting them on equal standing IN EVERY FUCKING WAY.

Instead of saying "I love you" in so many words with "I can be your family," as Arya did to Gendry, Gendry actually said the words. He told her, "I love you." He said: "Be my wife." He offered himself to her, and she turned him down. Because she doesn't want to be his "lady." That's not her. "I'm not a lady, I never have been." She said, and lordy, kill me now, but the way that Maisie said those two lines, oh my goodness! The inflection was so very similar to the way that Joe Dempsie said the lines, "You wouldn't be my family, you'd be milady." 

But you guys, see, it doesn’t mean that she doesn't want him. Just like all those years ago, it didn't mean that Gendry didn't want to stay with Arya, he just knew that if he stayed with her, he couldn't be with her because she was highborn and he was lowborn. Now, Arya is saying she can't be with him because she's not ready. Yes, she said it's because she's not a lady, but I do think that's just her fallback because, as I said, it's all about choosing death over life.

I seriously don't think it’s about her not being a lady. Because that doesn’t matter. Think of Arya’s scene with Ned back in season 01. She told him that she wanted to run a holdfast and Ned basically told her ‘Nah,’ that she would marry a lord and her children would be lords and princes. And *that* is when she said “no, that’s not me.” See, SHE wanted to be the one who ran the castle. And essentially that is what Gendry is asking her to do because he sure as shit can’t. He doesn’t know how to do it.

No, Arya doesn't want to be a proper lady, but that’s OK, because Gendry doesn’t give a fuck about that. He wants Arya as she is. He doesn’t want her to be a lady. He wants her to be HIS lady. That's the difference. So it’s not about her being a lady. It’s about choosing life versus death.

She needs to choose life again, and life is Gendry. And she will because she loves Gendry, and he loves her. Arya and Gendry are the purest, truest love on this show. They truly are the ship that is promised.

Ah, this episode was so, so, sooo good and the Gendrya was just a bump in the road. I truly, truly believe!

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Time in our Hands (3/?)

Summary: Temporal Detective First Class Aiden Gold has been working tirelessly to keep the timeline unaltered for as long as he can remember. He’s been chasing time bandit Lacey French for almost as long, but she always seems to slip through his fingers.

Until the day when his commanding officer tells him to bring Lacey in at all costs. The world itself is under threat, and Gold will need Lacey’s expertise to make sure that history happens as it should, and to prevent a catastrophe in the future…

Written for the A Monthly Rumbelling moodboard prompt, available here.

Rated: T

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[One] [Two] [AO3]

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Time in our Hands

Three

“Here. You look like you could use it."

"Yeah, well, it's not every day that you're going about your normal banditry business and then half an hour later you're being told you're off to the place you've always dreamed of visiting and by the way can you stop the end of the world whilst you're at it."

Lacey accepted the paper cup of coffee and took a sip, watching Gold as he sat down beside her. After seeing Kida, they'd gone straight back to the capsule bay, making ready to leave as soon as control let them know that their window was open.

"I don't suppose you've got something stronger?" Lacey asked.

Gold chuckled. "If we both get through this hairy adventure, I'll break out the good Scotch in my desk drawer."

Lacey toasted her coffee cup against his. "I'm holding you to that, you know."

"I wouldn't dream of anything else."

It was strange, sitting beside the woman who'd given him so much grief over the years. Something in the back of his mind was telling him that he ought to be rejoicing in finally having caught up with her after all this time, but he could feel no pleasure in it whatsoever, not when the circumstances were as they were.

Lacey leaned back against the wall, staring at the transport capsule that was now showing as fully charged and ready for another outing.

“What’s it like?” she asked presently.

“What’s what like?”

“Atlantis.”

Gold shrugged. “I’ve never been. When a place is time-locked, even we can’t go to it except in extenuating circumstances.”

“Huh.” Lacey’s smile was amused. “That surprises me. You always give the impression that you’ve been everywhere and know everything. I mean, sometimes you blend into the time period better than others, but none of us are complete chameleons. I guess I just thought that you guys get a free pass to go everywhere.”

“Not everywhere. We generally only go to the places that you lot go to. Since, theoretically, none of you should be going to Atlantis in the first place, I’ve never had reason to follow anyone there.”

He continued to watch her, trying to gauge what she was thinking, but if there was a person Gold had always considered unreadable, it was Lacey French. They’d met so many times over the course of the years that he liked to think he knew her, but in reality, she was still an enigma, and even though they were about to enter into this adventure together, he still didn’t trust her as far as he could throw her.

Still, as she had said before, a gesture of good will was in order, especially considering the place they were going to, and more importantly the time to which they were going. A distinct disadvantage to any mission to a time-locked time and place was that there was so little first-hand information from fellow agents about the local conditions. The Fall of Atlantis was not well-documented, and Kida had not yet recovered from her time lag to be able to give them any warnings about what they might face from her own experience. It was definitely going to be hairy, and despite her occupation and her wanted poster on the wall, Lacey was a civilian with no formal training in these matters. Gold absolutely did not want her to get hurt, or worse, on his watch; and that desire had nothing to do with wanting to see her brought to justice once it was all over.

“Give me your hand.”

Lacey looked down at his own hand as if he was offering her some kind of poisonous snake. “Why?”

“I’m going to take the cuff off.”

Lacey gave a huff of laughter and covered it with an awkward cough before giving him an incredulous look.

“Are you absolutely sure about that, Detective? I am, after all, a wanted criminal, however small fry I might be in the grander scheme of things, and as you said yourself on the journey back from Greece, I am under arrest.”

“Just let me take it off.”

Obediently, she held out her arm and Gold grabbed his keys.

“How do you know that I’m not just going to wink straight out of here?” she asked.

“I don’t. But I like to think that you care about the timeline enough not to want an alternate one to spring up out of Atlantis, so I think you’ll come along and close the time loop anyway. Besides, you just admitted that you’ve always wanted to see Atlantis, and this is the only way that you’re going to get there.”

There was also the fact that small personal transports like Lacey’s didn’t really work inside the headquarters building thanks to the interference of the much larger craft coming and going, but if she was really determined, she could make it out without causing utter catastrophe. And, of course, there was no telling what she might do once they’d got to Atlantis.

The cuff came off and Gold pocketed it. Lacey flexed her wrist, looking at the lights which had now burst back into life on her bracelet. They were flashing all colours of the rainbow and Lacey grimaced.

“Couldn’t jump even if I wanted to. It’s been glitching for a while. Probably ever since the time loop became known.” She paused. “There’s something else, though, isn’t there?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you could have just as easily left the cuff on and then you wouldn’t have to worry about it. I know it’s more than just a gesture of trust, because we haven’t known each other long enough for that and considering the amount of times we’ve played cat and mouse, frankly, you’d be stupid to just blindly trust me like that as a show of friendship and camaraderie. No, there’s something else.”

Gold took out his pocket-watch. He really didn’t want to think about how it had ended up in Kida’s hands for her to come back to headquarters with it, but he knew that whatever it was that caused the change in ownership was about to happen very soon in his own personal future.

“All agents have one of these,” he says. “An emergency time-out that will pull you back to the nominal present no matter where or when you are. You don’t have one, so whatever goes on out there, you have no fallback except that.” He tapped her bracelet, which beeped in protest. “I want to make sure that no matter what happens, you can get out of Atlantis should you need to.”

Lacey looked down at his hand on her wrist, and Gold realised that he had been holding on without meaning to, quickly letting her go as if he’d been stung. Lacey just gave her soft little laugh again and smiled.

“You know, I think you’re a big softie on the inside, Detective. For all you play the hardened time cop who’s had it up to here with me, I think a small part of you really cares.”

“It’s nothing like that.” Gold felt himself bristle as Lacey’s words wriggled their way under his carefully constructed armour and began to prod at the delicate bits of him. “I just don’t want to have a preventable time-related demise on my hands. The paperwork would take me until the end of time to process. Literally.”

“All right. I believe you.” It was clear from her tone of voice that she didn’t believe him in the slightest, but Gold wasn’t prepared to argue the point yet.

Before anything further could be said on the matter, the radio in Gold’s capsule crackled into life.

“Detective Gold, your window to Atlantis will be opening in ten real-time minutes. Please confirm your readiness.”

Gold stood up, offering a hand to Lacey to pull her up. “We’re on.”

Lacey took the offered hand and gave him a little curtsey once she was vertical again. “Thank you, sir.”

They made their way back into the capsule together and Gold sat down at the control panel.

“You might want to strap in,” he said, indicating the seat beside him as he fastened his own harness. “Navigating through time windows can be tricky. It’s not like your normal simple hop from A to B.”

“I thought you said you’d never been to a time-locked place and time before.”

“I’ve never been to Atlantis before, but it’s not the only time-locked place and time. I’ve done two previous ones.”

“Oh yes? And where might they have been?”

Gold chuckled. “Ah, now, that’s classified information. If you don’t know where the time-locked parts of history are, then I’m not going to be the one to tell you.”

Lacey just scowled at him, but nonetheless strapped herself into her seat, watching with fascination as he programmed the capsule ready for their departure.

“Control, this is Detective Gold. We’re clear to go whenever you are.”

“Detective Gold, your time window will last for twenty-four real-time hours and starts in five, four, three, two, one.”

Gold hit the ignition, and the little craft whirred up into life. He settled his hands on the steering column, flexing his fingers. It was a while since he’d had to drive manually. Normally all you had to do was key in your time and your co-ordinates and the capsule did the rest. He’d be able to relax for a little while once they were safely into the window; it would take about half an hour to pass through it and then he’d have to take control once again for landing in Atlantis.

He really wasn’t looking forward to that part all that much. In order to keep the time loop as stable as possible, they were going back to as close a time as the emergency time-out had been used as they could, and they would land right in the middle of the Fall period. With Atlantis being time-locked as it was, there was very little information about precisely what had caused its destruction beyond ‘a very big wave’. That could mean next to anything.

Lacey remained silent as he concentrated on driving, but he could tell that she was entranced by the entire process. He wondered if she’d ever had any experience of capsule travel before he’d picked her up in Greece or if she’d always worked with just her bracelet. There was so little he knew about her, despite having known her for such a long time. With just the two of them like this, it felt like it ought to be the perfect time to ask, but at the same time, the magnitude of what they were about to do made it seem like small talk would be frivolous in the face of it.

Making it safely into the window, he sat back from the controls, rubbing his forehead. Ideally he would have liked a bit more time to prepare for this mission. Not only were they closing a time loop, they were potentially saving the world, and he had no idea how they were supposed to go about it. All he could do was hope that Kida would be able to tell them when they found her on their arrival. Of course, that might be easier said than done, as it would be the first time that they were meeting Kida. She would be as unprepared for them as they were for her.

Gold glanced over at Lacey, who was still watching all the instruments and control panels in the capsule. Although she had always exuded an air of confidence, even after he had brought her into HQ and she had met Mal, now she looked nervous.

“It’ll be all right,” he said. “The Bureau’s handled worse scrapes than this. Like Mal said, we’ve successfully closed every time loop we’ve ever come across throughout the entire timeline.”

Lacey shook her head. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

She didn’t elaborate as to what she was worried about instead, and Gold felt it best not to pry. There was already enough to be concerned about.

The rest of the journey was spent mostly in silence, each of the travellers lost in their own thoughts about what was to come.

[sp4c3-0ddity]

Misfortune for the wip meme

WIP Meme

*sweats* ah yes this fic. so…let’s start with a status update:  five chapters posted, two more finished (though not edited), and two more outlined, which means what’s left is…one to outline, three to write, and five to edit (although three of those five need to be written first, of course). but you’re probably not interested in the logistics!!

so this angst-fest went through a couple iterations before it became the fic it is now. originally meant for a prompt, i had the Totally Not Silly idea of a world where it’s customary for parents to get a fortune for their newborn children (easiest to read someone’s future within a couple days of their birth) and…Pidge’s fortune (hehe much different right) is that the love of her life would die on their wedding day

cue certain events happening similarly to canon, except Pidge stays on the wrong side of the law and Lance, a Law Enforcement Person (it was a vaguely historical/fantasy AU…easily my fallback), that she befriended (i never quite worked the details to how), helps her snatch some Important Documents. naturally they’re friends, but Pidge finds herself developing some…inconvenient Feelings, and although she has no real certainty that Lance is fated to die per her fortune, she decides it’s time to start keeping her distance to be, you know, cautious

…and i hadn’t quite planned it out from there. I know Lance had his own fortune and they talked:

“Didyou have a prophecy when you were born?” Lance once wondered. Off-duty, he worehis uniform coat unbuttoned, his hands stuffed in his trouser pockets whilethey strolled through the city’s park.

The scent of jasmine filled the air, thevines that climbed wooden trellises and archways loaded with small whiteflowers. Easier to domesticate than juniberries - which only grew in themountains - they weren’t quite as stunning, but Pidge preferred their simplicity andsubtle sweetness.

(And they didn’tirritate her allergies half so much as many other flowers.)

Pidge glanced sharply at him, stunned atthe question. “I…do,”she admitted.

Lance quirked an eyebrow at her. “And?”

“And…I’m not going to tell you,” she said,crossing her arms and trying her best to feign nonchalance. “It’s silly anddoesn’t have anything to do with me.”

i love jasmine that’s why it features

it wasn’t supposed to be a long fic so…it culminated in a Heated Moment and probably would’ve ended there ah Open Endings my old frenemy

and after it was that, i had the idea to switch their roles so Lance got the fortune. it started in a Modern AU and i can’t quite remember all the details but there was this Conspiracy involving Zarkon and Alfor and the Holts and…yeah the plot got complicated so i (thanks to a suggestion from @rueitae) adapted it to canon-verse and kept all the essential elements which is how i got the fic i linked above!!

let’s not talk about the major face lift Chapter Three - and therefore the whole fic - suffered though

now…i don’t want to say much about the future in the fic because Spoilers (is that a thing people who read fic care about avoiding??) so I’ll leave you with a little preview of Chapter Seven:

“Aw, you were really close to beating your high score thistime,” Pidge said to Allura, patting her on the arm as she lost her lastship in Galaga.

Her high score was dismalcompared to Lance’s and Pidge’s, but she smiled, pleased with her progress. Shestepped away from the machine, her hand falling from the joystick. “Ithink it’s time I called Coran,” she announced. “I promised to updatehim soon after the meeting, and it’s already been a few days since then.”She cupped Lance’s jaw and, when he turned his head in surprise, she pressed akiss to his cheek. “You said you’ll be staying with your familytonight?”

Lance blinked, touching thespot she kissed him - Allura wasn’t one for any displays of affection andscarcely wished to hold his hand in public if someone could see it - butrecovered enough to clear his throat and say, “Oh, yeah. I’ll call you inthe morning.”

“All right!” Allurasaid, grinning at him before turning to Pidge and taking her hands. “Makesure he doesn’t waste all his currency here; he promised he’d take me to see anEarth movie before we return to New Altea.”

“Uh…return to NewAltea?” Pidge’s eyes widened in something like alarm, but her expressionrelaxed quickly. “Oh, uh, okay.” She smiled and rubbed the back ofher neck, and as Allura left, the door to the arcade swinging shut behind her,she mused, “Not like there are many new movies out lately though…”

“Really?” Lancequirked an eyebrow. “My sister told me there’s even one about the invasionout now.”

“Yeah, and it’s only thethird or fourth since then,” Pidge told him, rolling her eyes, “butthey’re not much fun when you lived it.”

Lance frowned, crossing hisarms as he leaned against the Galaga machine. “Pidge, everyone on Earth lived it, unless they weren’t born yet.”

“I-I know,” she said,sighing and staring at her feet. “It just seems…insensitive? Dideveryone in Hollywood shelter under a Galra-resistant rock during theinvasion?”

Lance snorted, half inamusement and half in surprise. “I take it you haven’t seen any of theinvasion stories then.”

Pidge shook her head, hershoulders hunching. “None,” she confirmed.

They lapsed into a tensesilence broken only by the gleeful shouts of gamers and discordant music fromthe arcade’s games. Lance sought for something, anything, to say before trying, “D-do you want to maybe getsome…coffee with me? I’ll buy.”

Pidge glanced up, his breath catching when she finally met his eyes, and smiled veryslightly. “Make it hot chocolate and you’ve got a deal.”

[jae-bummer]

We’ll See

Request: Could I request numbers 10 and 12 with Suho please? <3

10) “I’ll never be able to erase that image from my mind.”

12) Your bias ends up as your blind date

Member: EXO’s Suho x Y/N 

Type: Fluff

You tapped anxiously on your phone, sliding the text conversation you had been sharing with your friend upwards and down again. The blue bubbles flew past your periphery, possibly quick enough to give you motion sickness if you had been really paying attention. Instead, you were busy dividing your focus around the restaurant you had been lured into. 

He’s still not here you texted, gnawing on your lip as you looked up from your phone again. 

After only a few seconds, your cell signaled a text and began to buzz. Be patient. He’s always late. 

7:01pm: Two hours tho??? the waiter is even starting to get antsy 7:02pm: Order another appetizer 7:03pm: If I eat one more mozzarella stick  7:03pm: theyll have to roll me outta here 7:03pm: then quit complaining and eat slower

You let out a heavy sigh before glancing up again, making eye contact with the waiter for the dozenth time. He lifted his brows, a signal of a silent question you had given him an answer to several times. Smiling sadly, you shook your head before looking down and opening your camera roll. Your phone screen automatically filled with small, colorful memories of things you had saved or taken photos of. Tapping on the most recent item in the timeline, you winced at the blurry picture that your friend had sent of your blind date for the evening. 

He was incredibly handsome, but not necessarily your type. Very pretty, with slender facial features, and a smile that was an orthodontist’s dream. His skin was pale, and his hair was even paler. Completing his look with disheveled locks and colored contacts, he was the epitome of everything you knew wouldn’t be good for you. Closing out the photo, you began to grumble to yourself. 

He was probably still at his house, getting ready. Judging by how maintained he looked, he seemed to care over abundantly about his appearance, but you supposed there could be worse things. 

You shifted in the booth that was set toward the front of the eatery, bright and at the center for everyone to see. Knowing your friend had meant well by trying to send you on this blind date, you had to make a conscious effort to not focus your anger towards her. Nervously glancing from the tables around you and to the waiting area not far from your vision, your stomach felt as if it had been filled with stone. The restaurant was absolutely packed with possible patrons milling around. A few had even begun to spill out into the street, anxious to grab a seat at some point. 

Feeling your face grow warm, you became painfully aware of your presence as you caught eyes with one of the men propped in the corner of the lobby. Lounging against a wall with a book fit snugly between his fingers, he had glanced up from his pages just in time to meet your gaze. You lifted your brows and grimaced, immediately turning away from the small exchange and looking down toward the table. Your neck and cheeks were fully ablaze by this point, causing you to begin rummaging through your bag in an attempt to gather yourself. As soon as you were calmed down, you would vacate the booth, and try to put this terrible night behind you. 

“Excuse me,” the waiter croaked, having suddenly appeared during your moment of mortification. You tilted your head upwards in surprise and nodded briefly. “The restaurant is becoming fairly busy, and I was wondering if you would like to order before I’m assigned more tables?” 

“Oh,” you whispered. If it was possible, you felt even worse than you had previously. “I...uh...I um...” 

“I mean..I know you’ve been here awhile,” he continued nervously. “And you must be getting at least a little hungry. I know you didn’t want to start until your date got here, but in this situation, may I suggest-”

“Sorry, I’m here,” a deep voice said breathlessly from behind the waiter. 

Your eyes grew wide as you strained your neck in an attempt to see him. Sliding out from behind the server and into the booth seat across from you, he set his book down on the table and grinned sheepishly. He refused to meet your eyes as he looked up at the waiter, a dark blush continuing across his cheeks.  

“Uh...” you trailed, furrowing your brows in confusion. 

The waiter adjusted his focus from you and to the man that had appeared. “I’m sorry sir, didn’t you just request a table?” 

“I didn’t see that my date had already arrived,” he nodded confidently. “This is a blind date, you know, so we haven’t been able to exchange telephone numbers yet.” 

“Ah, yes, very good then,” the server nodded. “What will you have to drink?” 

After the stranger had put in an order for a water without lemon and an appetizer you hadn’t even seen on the menu, you allowed yourself to openly stare at him. 

“So...” he hummed, tapping his fingers cautiously on the wooden surface separating the two of you. “I’m Junmyeon.” 

Your jaw fell slightly ajar as you gaped, your thought processes spiraling in dozens of directions. 

“And what should I call you?” he croaked, clearing his throat shortly after he attempted the words. 

“Who are you?” you finally managed. You shook your head as you realized how rude the question sounded. “I mean...well...yes, I mean, who are you?”

“Your date for the evening,” he chuckled. 

“You don’t look anything like the photo my friend sent,” you said quietly, mentally pulling up the picture in your head. The man before you was absolutely gorgeous. While you were initially impressed by the angles in his face, you quickly became enamored with the warmth in his eyes. The chocolate colored orbs were not only pleasant to look at, but held so much more to them than a simple view. There was something kind there, something gentle. He was interested and his gaze proved it. His plush lips pulled around a small smile as he watched you, watch him. 

“What do you mean I don’t look like the photo?” he smirked. Running a hand through his dark hair, his face began to contort in thought. “Wait...you thought I was really your blind date?” 

“Well...yeah...” you trailed, tilting your head. “Aren’t you...? Why do you sound so surprised?” 

“I...I’m not your date,” he whispered, immediately breaking eye contact with you. His eyes feverishly searched the table, an action he seemed to do when he was nervous. “I just...I thought your friends had cancelled on you...or that you actually knew who you were meeting. I’m not the guy you were expecting...so I apologize.” 

“Oh,” you managed, beginning to nod slowly as the realization dawned on you. “For a second I thought she just sent a really outdated picture.”  

Junmyeon cracked a small smirk as he glanced up at you through his lashes. “And you were going to have dinner with me anyway?”

“It is a BLIND date,” you laughed. “I was just expecting someone to show up...”

“And before me...no one did?” Junmyeon sighed, his face becoming sympathetic.

“Nope,” you hummed, chewing on your lip. Being stood up was embarrassing enough, but actually acknowledging it made your stomach turn. You weren’t wanted by someone you hadn’t even met. How much more pathetic could you get?

Junmyeon watched you quietly, a perfect stranger weighing in on your struggle. “Don’t.”

“I’m sorry?” you asked, lifting your brows.

“Don’t,” he repeated. “I can see the look on your face. Whatever you’re thinking isn’t the truth. Some people are just terribly inconsiderate and that shouldn’t weigh on your self worth.”

You were left speechless for a moment, hardly expecting a reaction like that from someone who didn’t even know you.

It definitely spoke to his character. 

“I don’t know you,” he hummed, eerily echoing your thoughts. “But I’ve ended up as your date for the evening, so I intend to know you. And I would prefer for my date to have as great of a time as possible.”

“If you don’t mind me asking,” you trailed. “What were you doing with your night...to where you could completely clear your plans and have dinner with a stranger?”

“I eat dinner alone often,” he nodded. “I’m a musician...and I’m constantly surrounded by people. Sometimes...it’s just nice to not worry about entertaining someone.”

“Lovely,” you muttered, taking a sip of your water.

Junmyeon let out a hearty laugh. “But with every situation, there are exceptions...some people are worth entertaining.” 

“And how do you know I’m one of them?” you asked, tilting your head. You couldn’t lie, you had enjoyed the brief conversation you had shared with Junmyeon thus far. If you had to have a fallback date, he sure as hell did the job well. 

“Your eyes,” he said softly, his face stern. “Your smile. The way you chuckle when you think I’m completely full of sh-” 

“I’m sorry, but are you Y/N?” an unfamiliar voice rasped to your right. Both you and Junmyeon turned to the unexpected guest, but you were the only one to let out a gasp.

Before you stood your intended blind date, the guy your friend had actually sent for you to have dinner with. He looked surprisingly similar to his photo, just less blurry. He was taller than you had expected, and much more thin. With bleached hair perfectly pushed back from his face, it was more than apparent that he had put on makeup that evening. You weren’t necessarily against the look, but it made him appear just a little too perfect. He adjusted his stance as he waited for you to speak, annoyance coating his every feature. 

“Uh...yes,” you finally whispered, looking toward Junmyeon at a loss. 

“And you are?” your blind date asked, directing his question at Junmyeon. 

“Junmyeon,” he hummed happily with a short nod. 

“He was keeping me company,” you continued quietly, cutting your eyes at the intruder. “You know...because you’re almost three hours late.” 

“I thought we were meeting for five,” he chirped. 

“It’s 7:30,” Junmyeon laughed, shaking his head. 

“So I’m a little late,” he groaned, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck. “But I’m here now.” 

“Correction,” Junmyeon nodded. “I’m here now. And I believe this booth is a little snug for three.” 

“I...um...what?” the blind date stuttered, looking at Junmyeon in surprise. He turned his attention back to you, completely at a loss. “Why...you...would rather have dinner with him than me?” 

“While I know neither of you,” you sighed, trying to keep a smile from showing on your face. “I have to say I prefer a guy who shows up a little closer to the arranged date time.” 

“What she means is,” Junmyeon nodded. “You are dismissed.” 

Junmyeon smiled warmly toward the man before patting him lightly on the arm. “It’s alright though, I’m sure there will be many more dates in your future.” 

The stranger stood there for a moment, opening and closing his mouth as if he had something to say, but couldn’t quite verbalize it. 

“Have a good evening,” you said quietly, hoping the words would incite him to leave. After a few more moments of awkward silence, he spun on his heel and stumbled out of sight. 

“I think he swallowed his tongue,” Junmyeon chuckled, shaking his head. 

“I will never be able to erase that image from my mind,” you giggled, pressing your palms against the table. 

Without a second thought, Junmyeon lowered his hands and set them lightly atop of yours. Maintaining eye contact, you could see his face begin to grow red as you simply analyzed each other. 

“You really have a wonderful laugh,” he whispered. His eyes danced across your face, analyzing every small feature. You couldn’t help but wonder what was going through his mind. 

A complete stranger throwing his all into a date he had stumbled upon. 

“What made you decide to sit down here tonight, Junmyeon?” you asked, afraid of an honest answer. 

“Well...” he trailed, lifted his hands from yours and tapping on the table absently. “I looked up from my book and I met your eyes. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how beautiful you are, I mean, you own a mirror, but something about you caught my attention. I wanted to say something. I wanted to get to know you. When I saw the waiter come up and begin speaking, he motioned to the absence of a dinner partner, and I saw how upset you looked. I didn’t know exactly what happened...but you needed someone...and in a way, I think I needed someone tonight too.” 

“Did someone let you down as well?” you asked, your heart a flutter just from his answer alone. 

“Daily,” he chuckled. “But I get used to it. It’s nice to talk to someone completely new. And someone who is not in the industry or concerned with my career...or how it will effect them.” 

“It’s nice that you’re a musician,” you nodded, giving him a warm smile. “But honestly, whether you can carry a tune or not isn’t what infatuates me.” 

“Oh, so you are infatuated?” he grinned. 

“That’s an awfully heavy word for only knowing you for fifteen minutes,” you chuckled. “Maybe I should be more careful with my choices.” 

“It’s okay,” he smirked. “You can be infatuated with me.” 

“Give me a few days,” you hummed, cocking your brow. “Then we’ll see.” 

[moczothe1st]

Let’s Play Fire Emblem IV: Genealogy of the Holy War, Part 10: Yarrrrrrrr!

Part 9

Welcome back to FEIV! I was originally not planning to update this week, since my appendix ruptured last weekend and that’s actually pretty incredibly awful to experience. I figured I earned a week off. However, I did not consider one thing: when you’re basically required to keep yourself in bed for 90% of the day, you have a lot of time to kill. After the first four or so days of pain and eating very little, I started playing Genealogy because frankly why not. I did have to wait until I got off the IV, mind you, because industrial painkillers and strategy do not mix. Not unless you want to get all your units beaten to death by pirates.

Speaking of.

I feel like I should just point out that last week they were worried about me coming up north to attack ­them, and yet they willingly start a fight here, even opening up a bridge for me to reach them.

Given that our army has, at this point, defeated two entire countries, I think we can handle a bunch of pissed-off sailors, thanks. Though the first members of the group actually take their shots by going northwest after Bridget.

This exact same battle happens three more times. Bridget is awesome.

The rest of the pirates do go South, but Dew is holding the bridge and they literally can’t hit him. They’re axe men and his dodging is amazing. So they don’t even try, just walk to him and stop.

Sometimes smart AI is really annoying. When our phase starts up, some familiar faces come with it.

Taillte: Just look around! There’ll be pirates all over us if we don’t get moving!

Claude: Be at peace, Taillte. This was quite the fruitful journey! Lord Bragi has answered my prayers and revealed to me the truth. It is precisely as I had thought. Not to mention, I even found House Edda’s long-lost sacred heirloom within the tower: the staff of Valkyria.

Taillte: What, that grubby little cane?

Claude: … Taillte, please. Try to mind your manners. This is a legendary magical staff with the power to restore life to the deceased. It is usable by only the direct descendants of Saint Bragi. That is to say, me alone.

Taillte: Huh. So what you’re saying is, with this rod you could bring my sweet old grandma back to life?

Claude: Alas, most likely not. Valkyria is limited in many particular ways, and so cannot be used on just any lost soul. You see, all mankind is born bearing a life force called quintessence, which-

Taillte: Yaaaaawn… er, what’s that? You lost me. Why are you still talking about this anyway? We’ve gotta get outta here!

Well. This will be interesting, at least. Now, before we show off our new characters, there is a conversation to be held. Ethlyn, you haven’t made me angry in awhile: take it away!

Ethlyn: Here. Take this.

Quan: A spear? …. What?! I-isn’t this Gae Bolg?! Why do you-

(Yes, Ethlyn. Why do you.)

Ethlyn: Your lord father entrusted it to me, Quan. He thought it prudent for you to have it at hand in case our battles grew too fierce.

Quan: Even just holding it, I’ve never felt so strong! Why did you wait until now, though?

(YES, ETHLYN. WHY DID YOU?)

Ethlyn: With the spear, your lord father also passed onto me its tale… I’m so sorry…

Quan: … Ah. Gae Bolg bears the baggage of a truly sad legend. But that is all it is: a legend.

Ethlyn: But-

Quan: Ethlyn, trust me. Triumph is within our grasp this day. I’ll not fall victim to an old myth. I’ll not let it stop me from returning home. Our dear little Altena still awaits us, and I’ll not allow some fairy tale to disappoint her.

Ethlyn: Yes… Quan, no matter what happens… we’ll never lose each other. Right?

Quan: Ah, you’re concerned about Deirdre, aren’t you? There’s nothing to worry about. It won’t be long until we find her.

Ethlyn: Yes…. I want to believe she’ll be okay, too. I wish I could. But…

Quan: Ethlyn? Come now, dry your tears. Do you truly feel so bad about this?

(… Okay, I’m still angry at Ethlyn over her withholding the Omni-Spear from me the whole game, but she kind of has a point here. Her sister-in-law has vanished. It would be kind of weird if she wasn’t worried, Quan.)

Ethlyn: Yes… knowing th-that Sigurd and Deirdre may never meet again… they love each other so much… why, Quan? Why did this happen to them?!

Quan: Ethlyn…

Deep breath

Okay, let’s look at our new stuff. Simplest first.

Quan now has the Gae Bolg, his Holy Weapon, like Eldigan’s Mystletain and Claude’s above-mentioned Valkyria. It gives him +10 boosts to Strength, Skill, and Defense while holding it; he was already a nigh-unbreakable juggernaut, so take that ‘nigh’ off and you get the idea. It also does ten more points of damage per shot than the Silver Lance even without the strength boost, while weighing only slightly more.

So. You know.

THANKS FOR KEEPING THAT IN YOUR POCKET THIS WHOLE TIME, ETHLYN. YOU BITCH.

Now, the new characters.

Claude of Edda is basically Aideen: Part 2. Same class, similar growths; his Major Bragi Blood (+20% HP growth, +20% Magic Growth, +20% Luck growth, +40% Resistance growth) push his in a better direction for their class, but she’s leveled up so great she’s basically his equal anyway, and he has fewer levels left than her to take advantage of them. He’s also promoted, so he can use offensive magic in addition to staves… but he didn’t bring any, so that’s not much of a comfort.

And his gear at the moment is just plain not great for the situation, i.e. alone with a teenager fighting pirates. The Fortify Staff is the best healing staff in the game, giving a huge amount of health back to not a specific target, but to everyvunit within 10 spaces of Claude. Amazing… but it only has ten charges. The Valkyria staff, meanwhile, is basically a one-use get out of jail free card if someone dies: Claude can use it in the main castle to revive them, at which point it will break and require a stupid amount of money to repair for one more use. So it’s nice to have as a fallback, but if you rely on it you’re going to end up bankrupting yourself in short order.

Taillte is… a unique character. On paper, she’s quite good; her growths are solid, bolstered by Minor Tordo holy blood (+20% HP, +30% skill). She can only use Thunder magic, but that’s okay, because it’s the second-best kind of magic and she can use it up to A-rank, and even comes with the A-rank Thoron tome, meaning she joins us with the equivalent of a Silver weapon in her chosen weaponry class. And she also has a very nice personal skill, Wrath, which turns all her attacks into guaranteed criticals if her health is below half, basically taking her already ‘glass cannon’ status and allowing her to upgrade to a much bigger cannon if she’s willing to take some extra glass on board. And her stats are quite good for her level!

Which is to say, for level 3. When the rest of the army is in their late teens at the lowest.

So, we clearly need to get someone over there to help those two, because Taillte is most definitely not going to be able to hold off all the pirates in her area alone, and Claude can only heal her ten times. But whooooo is nearby to go saaaaaave them?

sniff

Oh, Bridget you’re so fine, you’re so fine you blow my mind, Hey Bridget. She’s also a little underleveled, being only 12, but she’s a pre-promote like Sigurd so if anything her stats are a little higher than most of the army; in particular, she actually has the third highest Strength stat of anyone in the army, after Quan and Lex. And a low level actually gives her more levels to gain bolstered by her Major Ullur Blood (+40% HP, +60% luck). She’s gonna be surprisingly durable for an archer class, with luck making her dodgy and plenty of hit points, on top of Strength, Speed, and Skill which are already enough to carry her the whole game. The only skill she has is Pursuit, but if you’ve been paying attention that’s the most important one for an offensive unit to have anyway, soooooo.

Let’s do this shit.

Bridget immediately begins moving west along the peninsula towards Taillte and Claude, who move toward the pirates around them to start working on things. Neither is, unfortunately, close enough to any enemies to make an attack… well, Bridget is, but she can’t run and shoot at the same time, and even the best Archer of all time can’t fight at melee. If she gets surrounded, even she’ll be in trouble. Everyone else, in turn, begins to move towards the units holding the bridge, while they themselves defend with all they’ve got.

Yeah, no, the bridge is going to fall. Horribly. The Orgahil pirates are so pitiful in comparison to Agustria that we might as well ignore them and go knit. The rest of the level is going to be entirely about Taillte and Claude’s survival. End turn!

Continues knitting

And over with Claude, Taillte takes a single hit, but survives. This leaves her in a somewhat dangerous situation because she’s fragile and will die at any slight brush now, but Wrath is now enabled and she one-shots her attacker in reply.

The rest of the pirates in her area are out at sea and will be coming ashore slowly, letting her engage them one at a time on her own terms, so. Picture that sequence of the Death Star getting ready to fire, and you have an idea what I’m about to do with Taillte. Bridget continues to move toward them as well, the edge of her movement range leaving an enemy in her sights.

Get used to screens like this.

For the bridge team, I actually don’t do any fighting this turn, because Dew is a perfect blocker, and he isn’t going to take a shot at anyone. Rather: Aideen is broke and his money is maxed, so he can’t rob any of these guys! I have her move forward to stand next to him reassuringly, and he in turn gives her 49,000 gold. I wish I had more friends like Dew.

Much better. Killing off all these idiots would have cost me so much money if I hadn’t done that. Dew will likely be right back to max money by the end of the map. The pirates, in addition, can move very slowly on water squares and some of them do go around Dew to reach other units.

Their next of kin will be reminded of the dangers of swimming. On our turn, it’s mostly movement. Quan and Ethlyn move toward our home castle, everyone else moves toward these dorks again. The dorks in question, mind you, are doing very well. I actually have Lewyn run back towards a castle because I don’t need him to hold these dorks, and his Elwind is about to break from overkilling. Instead, Jamke moves up to take a shot in his place.

For the pirates, this is kind of like saying ‘I send the killer bear home because his stomach is full, and replace him with the killer lion.’ Dew moves forward, continues robbing shit, and levels.

You know, he needs defense so badly I will take this. I have Ayra move up to back him up and soften the newly poor pirate up with her weaker Bolt Sword…

… and of course she uses Astra and kills it. I would have really liked Dew to get more kills, Ayra, he’s about to promote. Please try to be caring of me. Taillte also reaches her first victim.

“You may fire when ready, Commander.” End turn!

Dew… took a hit. From these idiots. How… why! You little jackass, your ability to make me money and your ability to dodge are your only good points right now! You better proc Sol next turn and get some of that health back, quicksmart, or I will be furious. More furious.

I also almost lose Taillte because I didn’t realize she was in range of the enemy, but unlike SOME PEOPLE she pulls off the dodge and destroys her enemy with extreme prejudice, gaining her first level. Not great, but she at least got Speed and since she certainly can’t take a hit, making her better at avoiding them is helpful.

Our turn takes over and Bridget continues to run towards the Dynamic Duo, her rage steadily building. Dew and Ayra team up to take out the first pirate in line…

And since I’m bored, I have Holyn run into this new empty space in the line and smack the guy behind it.

sigh

Holyn, I’m taking a fucking risk by putting you on the front lines. You could at least try. But on the bright side, this does open another new spot in the line for Jamke to move up and take a shot at the enemy commander.

Okay. Teach. Jamke, you ready to learn?

Yup, Jamke has totally learned fear.

Jamke also gets his personal little trinket, the Leg Ring, improving how far he can move each turn by 3 spaces. Jamke doesn’t get a horse, so he’s not a terrible choice for this, but I’m not totally sure if he’ll be keeping it or not. It’s definitely in high demand by units all over.

Erin, off on her own doing her own thing, stops at another of the villages.

Stranger with Candy: Don’t be shy. Drink up! Well, how about it? Feel the might swellin’ in yer muscles! Oughta make yer work out there so much easier.

Erin gains +3 to her Strength, another boost she sorely needed. You’re also probably realizing why I ignored most of the villages on the map; there are a lot of little gifts to be gotten on this one, and I wanted them to go to specific people. There’s still one left meant for Claude, in fact.

On the enemy phase, Jamke provides an assisted suicide and reminds me that all levels these people gain will be either flawless or the worst.

sigh No other combat happens other than some pirates missing Holyn with hand axes, and our turn begins. First, to the home base… Ethlyn, care to not disappoint me for once?

The first magic she’s gained all game! I also send Quan right into the top tier at the Arena, using his new toy. Let’s see how it goes.

Holy Weapons are the best.

Back up at the real war, I continue to break the pirates a little.

Nothing super impressive, but at least the bridge is now mine, so that battle is over and this team can start moving to flank the jerks chasing Bridget. Bridget herself has also reached Claude and Taillte; the general idea now is that she will be their tank, dodging 90% of all melee attacks and slaughtering the occasional archer while Taillte stands behind her doing her best death ray impersonation. End turn!

… I think the pirates are losing hope, you guys, this one definitely had targets to go after who wouldn’t have killed him as terribly as Holyn. Come on, pirates don’t give up! You can’t go out like Agustria!

Our turn begins, and the team that took Silvail begins to reach the pirate fight, turning it from a one-sided fight to a one-sided fight. Lachesis also gains a healing level.

I… really should have given her that Paragon band. At least Dew won’t need it much longer.

He gained a level from this battle, but I missed the stats. +1HP, +1STR, +1SPD, solid enough I won’t have to scream at his face. Aideen also levels from healing him.

… Kind of bad, but she’s gotten so many great levels on this map I don’t really care. End Turn!

… Nothing happens! A sword guy misses Bridget and an axe guy misses Beowulf.

On our turn, Lachesis gets home, and I send her into the Arena with her new Earth Sword to see if it helps her a little.

cue beating

Nope! But the fun part is that now there’s nothing to stop me from just having Ethlyn heal her and trying again next turn, so I’ll let you know if RNG turns her favor at any point.

Over to the west, my two little nukes begin their blasting away at the crowd pressing against Bridget.

Those two sword guys are the most dangerous; they’re not very strong, but are accurate enough to regularly hit Bridget. Most turns Bridget won’t actually be attacking, but I want those two dead ASAP. End turn!

WHERE THE FUCK DID HE COME FROM?! DEEP BREATH Well that scared the shit out of me. I had no idea there was a ranged enemy close enough to reach Taillte. If she hadn’t dodged I’d be up a reset. But, on the plus side, fine level! On the next turn, they both take their shots…

… For the second time this update I missed the stat screen. Bridget gained a level. It was +1HP. I would be furious if she wasn’t already basically endgame quality without any stat gains at all. Taillte is doing okay, though! And then Claude heals ‘em up.

There we go! And better yet, he instantly gains 85 experience from this; Fortify is a pretty rockin’ staff. I start moving the others toward them again; Erin is now close enough to help out next turn, and the others should arriving to reinforce soon.

Though they don’t need it, really, Taillte is dodging everything and its mom. Our turn begins again, and… slaughter?

Yup, slaughter. The enemy phase is basically just Taillte and Bridget continuing their brutal ascent to dominance.

Welp, there goes the enemy’s archer brigade. At this point the rest of the army is basically only heading their direction because I’d like Bridget and Taillte to get some trophy husbands. On our turn, Sigurd and a few others test the defenses of Orgahil itself.

It is not a test they pass well.

The western team continues their just… rampant slaughter, it’s almost humiliating…

You know, barring the horrible level. What is with you this run, Erin?! You started off so perfectly, too! Well, on the plus side, I also realize I completely forgot Ethlyn had Arena levels to challenge too, and she’s a Paladin now. Let’s see how this rolls out.

Ethlyn: Up to seven wins, gained one level: +1 HP

……………… I hate you so much, Ethlyn.

You fucking guys!

……. I want to leave Agustria.

Okay, I’m frustrated so I’m going to take Orgahill now. The boss is nothing special beyond holding the Strength Ring; I’m gonna try to give it to Sigurd, actually, since his Strength stat is actually somewhat on the low end for how high his level is. Luckily he’s a sword dude fighting an axe moron, so it shouldn’t be hard to arrange.

Yeah, this will be over quickly. End turn, and Duvall once again seeks to destroy us with all his skill and power.

See how much he needs that Strength? Duvall should definitely be dead by now. On our turn, it’s… basically… just kind of a pitiful slaughter again, you know the drill.

And Sigurd finishes off Duvall, ending his 27-minute reign as cap’n and gaining himself a sweet +5 to strength.

Welp, might as well end the turn here. Good times. The few remaining pirates all take swings at Bridget and… all hit? How the… no. No. Not engaging. Her defense is good enough it doesn’t matter, and they…

Will not be taking any more swings. One more turn of the same and the enemy army is gone forever, with Erin leveling.

If I had another Pegasus Knight to use she would be so fucking benched right now.

Anyway, there are no more enemies on the map, so from here it’s a matter of just cleaning stuff up. Like this village of ungrateful bitches!

Bitch: Why are you even here? We’ve absolutely nothin’ to do with Agustria or Grannvale! If you’ve really gotta fight, take it somewhere else, you thoughtless sod.

Take a close look at her village in that image. A section is burned, meaning we literally ran in and saved it from being slaughtered by pirates. Next time, we won’t.

More importantly, Aideen finally meets Bridget. Were yooooooooooou paying attention…?

(D’aaaaaaaaaaaaw. Yup, Aideen mentioned her sister Bridget way back in Verdane, and we finally reunited them. Heart: Melted.)

Aideen: Surely you recall me?

Bridget: What? How do you know my name? Hang on… you look just like me! Aideen, huh… it sounds kinda familiar. But where from…?

Aideen: Bridget, listen well. I am your twin sister! We lost you to pirates years ago, when you were just five years old. I’ve searched for you for years. I never lost hope we would meet again!

(D’aaaaaaaaaaaaaaw!)

Bridget: This is all so sudden… no. Weird feelings aren’t enough. I need proof!

Aideen: Proof, you say? Here. Draw this bow.

Bridget: Huh? Okay, a nice bow and all, but what’s it gotta do with anything? Well, I’ll humor you. So I draw it, and… Whoa! Wh-what’s going on?! The hell is this? This… weird feeling boiling within me… are these memories? Ah, my heart is on fire… Aideen? Yes… you’re Aideen... my sister...

Aideen: Oh, thank the gods! You remember! That bow is your birthright, Bridget. It is Yewfelle, the sacred bow of Jungby. Legends tell that the exalted weapons of this land, such as this one, can only be wielded by a single heir per generation. For House Jungby and Yewfelle, that rightful heir is you, Bridget.

Bridget: Oh, Aideen, come here… Let me get a good look at you. How is our father doing? And our brother… Andre, right?

Aideen: I’ve so much to tell you, too… Bridget. My sister.

Well. That was adorable. And Bridget also gets a hold of Yewfelle, which gives her a +10 to Strength and Speed, along with the natural ability Renewal to heal her a small amount per-turn. Not quite as great as Gae Bolg, but frankly Bridget doesn’t need much help to start with so this turns her from unbreakable to super unbreakable. From here it’s mostly last-second healing and warping around, to get Claude to the one village he still needs to get his holy butt to, and to have everyone else start moving the new dudes toward the arena.

Though Aideen does hit 20! Probably won’t promote her this chapter, though, I have no way to get her home quickly. And next, I trigger the secret event by moving Dew over to the sacred tower… no, once again, no hint to do this…

Dew: Mmm… nope, nothin’ over here. Over there, maybe? Aw man! What a boring little dump.

Strange Voice: Who… are you…

Dew: Huh?!

Strange Voice: … State your business…

Dew: Heh, maybe if I pretend I can’t hear it…

Strange Voice: How dare you… defile this sacred ground… BEGONE!

Dew: Kyaaa! S-sorry! Please don’t hurt me! Hah… hah… what just happened?! Hang on… a sword? What’s it doin’ sitting around a place like this? Eh, who cares? Guess I’m getting’ something outta this after all!

Dew gets the Wind Sword, a magic blade like Ayra’s bolt sword and Ethlyn’s light brand, and it will be put to good use over time. Also he’s an awful person. I kind of wish the event had been the ghost eating his soul and joining our army instead.

Over on the other side of the map, Claude grabs the final village:

Cool Old Dude: We can’t thank you enough, but mayhap this magic staff will help. They call it a Restore staff. If yer allies’ve been put t’sleep or silenced, one cast of this staff’ll get ‘em back on their feet.

See, village of northern bitches? This is how you thank the people who stopped your home from burning down.

Now, the last two things. First arena runs:

Bridget: 7 wins, Gained two levels: +2 HP, +1 Strength, +1 Luck, +1 Defense

Finn: Up to 7 wins, did not gain a level.

Erin: Up to 7 wins, gained one level: +1 Speed, +1 Defense

Dew: Up to 4 wins, did not gain a level. I shouldn’t have used him. 

Taillte: 7 wins, Gained three levels: +2 HP, +3 Skill, +2 Luck, +1 Resistance

In addition, a few of the new recruits have conversations with Sigurd.

Claude: I’m glad Taillte was close at hand. We may not have survived, if not for her magic. More importantly, Lord Sigurd, my prayers to Saint Bragi were answered.

Sigurd: You have the trust of all this, then?

Claude: That I do. As I thought, Duke Reptor is behind all of this. On his orders, it was Duke Langbalt who killed Prince Kurth. The two then framed your father, Lord Byron, for the crime.

(Noooooooooooooooooooo, ya don’t saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay.)

Sigurd: As we thought…

Claude: The pair’s treachery runs deeper still. The murder of Isaach’s King Mananan was also the handiwork of Duke Reptor. He feared a peaceful end to the war would end the sole excuse for the conquest of Isaach, so he had the king assassinated.

Sigurd: Is that so… Reptor’s filthy hands are all over this mess…

Claude: Not entirely. In the shade of his avarice, there’s something else at work. Something unsettling and terrifying. Not even Lord Bragi could scry this evil presence, obscured as it was by its great power.

Sigurd: An evil presence? Could it be that dark priesthood? … Wait! What of my father, Claude?

Claude: Lord Byron yet lives, but he is weak. I fear he is not long for this world…

Sigurd: Father… this can’t be happening…

Claude: I’ll hasten back to the capital. His Majesty needs to hear the truth. Lord Sigurd, for the time being, stay here and restrain yourself from rash action.

Sigurd: Understood. I can’t thank you enough, Father Claude. I beg of you, do everything you can to save my father and clear his name.

Sigurd: The villages told me of a woman who leads the pirates of Orgahil, and of her devotion to aiding the poor and weak. That would be you, correct?

(“Also you’re identical to my childhood next-door-neighbor, who has an identical twin named Bridget, so…”)

Bridget: You must be that Grannvale man… Sigurd, right? Guess this is it. Come on. Just get it over with.

Sigurd: Oh, no, you’re mistaken! I’m certainly not here to kill you. I just want to talk. I’d like you to ally with you. We’d love to add your strength to our own, to help us better fight the pirates. What say you?

Bridget: Wait. You really want me, of all people?

Sigurd: Certainly! You’d be a tremendous asset.

Bridget: You’re a strange little man, Sigurd…

Oh, Bridget, You have no idea. Let’s get the Hell out of Agustria!

Sigurd: Oifey, would you please gather our troops here? Now that this is all over, I’d like to ensure that everyone’s alright.

Oifey: At once, sire.

Langbalt: Seize these vile allies of Byron, accomplices to his murder of Kurth and his bid to take over our kingdom! It is the will of His Majesty! No mercy for enemies of the state!

Reptor: To think, he personally put an end to that miserable prince and nearly killed Byron as well… I’ve never seen such a bold ploy! And with Arvis using His Majesty’s trust, it all worked flawlessly! Convincing the king of anything is hardly a challenge, but to succeed with a tale of this scale takes quite the storyteller… and here we are, with the entirety of House Chalphy framed for the crime! Heh heh… our victory is all but assured. The throne of Grannvale shall be mine, one way or another. I’ll leave no pest who dares interfere with me alive…

(……. I’m going to assume Langbalt is loudly shouting to the army and Reptor is just thinking to himself. Otherwise, I got some questions.)

Sigurd: What in the blazes is this?! I’ve been declared a traitor and a Grannvale legion waits at our doorstep to arrest me?!

Oifey: Sire… and to think, the war here was over at long last, and you were about to go search for Deirdre.

(“YES, OIFEY, THANK YOU FOR REMINDING ME”)

Sigurd: Gah… how could His Majesty believe Reptor’s lies? That my father, of all people, would kill Prince Kurth?! If only Father Claude had reached the capitol before they struck… Why?! Why is this happening?! I fought a pointless war! I let Eldigan die! And now this! What have I been fighting for all along?!

(The one and only time it will be a relief to see neutral units.)

Mahyna: Queen Rahna bade my corps and I to come and retrieve you. We invite you and your subordinates to retreat with us to Silesse, until your good name has been cleared in Grannvale.

(Lewyn’s mom! Finally, our habit of collecting lost royalty has paid off!)

Sigurd: … Queen Rahna of Silesse, you say? Why is Silesse willing to give aid to an alleged traitor like me?

Mahyna: Please, sir. Time is of the essence. The Grannvale assault is sure to begin at any moment now. My Pegasus knights will escort you across the sea to safety in Silesse.

And there we go! Grannvale, our ambiguously evil home, has outright turned against us. Reptor and Langbalt are in control, and the king thinks we killed his son. The only option remaining is to flee across the sea and regroup.

… We probably coulda solved the issue by having Lewyn stand near the enemy, but this is more dramatic.

Anyway, see you next week in the shining northern lands of Silesse, where I’m sure nothing will go wrong!

Part 11

[thatsnotperiod-blog]

television. pilot. bbc’s jonathan strange and mr norrell is my favorite show i’ve never seen because its whole thing is making an interesting concept (magic) boring by piling on a regency setting, academia, and early 19th century british nationalism. 

Starts out with a raven. It seems hungry! Some guy is putting water and some other dumb crap (is that a broken pen?) in a bowl while his servants watch. He looks like a nerd. The magic didn’t work. But is he in want of a wife? 

He kind of bumbles out to a side street, and, TITLE. 

Sidestreet bumbler bumbles on past a bookstore and is observed in a sinister way by a man who looks really, really similar to him, but is actually a totally separate man. BBC original series are perilous like this. The sinister man is just getting a book so it’s fine though. Ah, Book People. 

Then a narrator tells me that, “Some years ago there was in York a society of magicians. They met on the third Wednesday of every month, and read each other long, dull papers upon the history of English magic.” The narrator is a dumb idea but just the phrase “dull papers” has my heart pounding. This narration is cut with Our Hero bumbling up to one such meeting, attended by the Most British-Looking Men Available, many in wigs. 

Our Hero is revealed to be an anxious-voiced dilettante called Mr Segundus and he wants to know, “Why is magic no longer done in England?” and his question is greeted with derision, which tells me a couple things, in order 1. that magic may be done elsewhere but certainly is not in France, because if the French were doing magic, Horatio Nelson would be doing it too 2. that magic is probably alive and well in Scotland 3. Mr Segundus must not be in want of a wife as clearly he is not in possession of a good fortune and Mrs Bennet will have to turn her sights elsewhere! 

Mr Segundus gets cornered outside by a man who introduces himself as Honeyfoot (lol) and it’s Brian Pettifer, one of the Several Actors of Britain! He was Couthon in that 2009 French Revolution movie, Mr Raggles in Vanity Fair, Wheeler in To the Ends of the Earth, Poupart (not Poptart) in the Musketeers, and many other things (Growler in Bleak House, Boycott in Garrow’s Law)! Good to see you, Brian Pettifer!

Anyway Honeyfoot (lol) is like, Mr Segundus I agree with you, people should be doing magic. But apparently the books about how to do it are super rare -- even in York! They hit up a book store, and seems like Segundus tried to reserve some magic books but the asshole store owner sold them already. Segundus, visibly deflated, asks if the guy has anything on “the nature of clouds” which, jesus, being a gigantic nerd in the 19th century is so fucking bleak if clouds is your fallback. OMG it was a ruse! While the guy is off looking for cloud books, Segundus hops over the counter and snatches the cash sheet to “find the devil who keeps swiping my books!”

Someone named Norrell, they discover, is the devil in question. They hop in a carriage to go find him. They talk magic on the way there, and Segundus says he bought a nonfunctional spell from a street magician who threw in a free prophecy: “Magic will be returned to England by two magicians.” 

Honeyfoot (lol) is like, “We are two magicians. John Segundus and Mr Honeyfoot (lol)” which is the same construction as the title of the show but ... not ... the right guys. Turns out the street magician set expectations already and Segundus shoots him down. RIP, John Segundus & Mr Honeyfoot, the Show That Never Was. 

They arrive at Mr Norrell’s pad and are admitted by the Sinister Bookstore Guy from earlier. Mr Norrell is a grouchy alpha nerd who has read Segundus’s publications but wants to throw out some criticism anyway. Segundus and Honeyfoot geek sweetly over Norrell’s library. Segundus repeats his question again and the camera zooms hard on Mr Norrell, who says, “It is a wrong question, sir. Magic is not ended in England. I myself am quite a tolerable practical magician.”

! O H S H I T !

Back at the York Society of Extremely British Men, this assertion is shouted down as “absolute tripe.” They decide that they’ll write to Norrell and ask him to show them some magic or shut up. 

York Minster. Nighttime. The Society approaches the front steps, observing that it’s the hour and place appointed but Norrell has clearly chickened out. 

“Mr Norrell concedes defeat!” says their beefiest guy. 

But then Sinister Bookstore guy (his name is Childermass, and I guess he’s Norrell’s servant) appears saying no, Norrell doesn’t concede shit, he’ll just be working from home today, and also he wants everybody to sign a contract promising they will no longer call themselves magicians if he succeeds at magic. Everybody signs, except Segundus, who is like “magic is my life u can’t take it.” Bleak.

Meanwhile Mr Norrell is doing a typical work-from-home where he’s watching Real Housewives of New Jersey in his PJs. Just kidding, he’s waving his hands over a bowl of water. How do people in this show keep themselves from accidentally doing magic while shaving?

The Society wanders into York Minster. Childermass, building his character, finds stuff to lean against. Bells chime.

And then, MAGIC! Some of the carvings at the top of the clustered columns in the nave are talking, and it is real creepy because they’re talking about a murder they witnessed, until the camera gets up there and they look like Statler and Waldorf. The York Society are all freaking out. 

Cut to the rood screen, which of course features statues of all the kings of England and they’re bickering. OK. There’s a Richard III joke which I tepidly laughed at. A carving of a woman with a harp is singing, and a statue of a former archbishop (as York Minster is, in fact, actually a cathedral) yells at Beefy in Latin.

Then the magic is over. Norrell, at home, collapses back in his chair, because a WFH day also involves a lot of early booze. The York Society is invigorated, then sad because they all signed the We’re Not Magicians paper. 

The next day, the York Society of No Longer Magicians is taking down all their signs (lol) while Childermass, building his character, leans back in their chairs and smokes. Segundus says he’s just happy that “magic is restored to England” but then, Segundus didn’t sign shit. 

“Do you think,” Segundus asks Childermass, “Mr Norrell would be offended if I wrote to the London newspapers of this?”

Childermass is like, yes he would be offended, but do it anyway: “I rather think my master has hidden his talent long enough. It’s time for him to take his place, and London is where I will take him.” 

OK then Mr. World’s Worst Press Secretary. 

Meanwhile! Elsewhere! A man rides a horse while Charlotte Riley (!) attends church. Horse Guy is bugging Charlotte Riley from the window, and she hilariously ignores him, but meets him on the way out. 

He’s listing the ways he has reformed himself for her, not playing cards, not flirting with anybody in Brighton (but the Bennets might be there!) not drinking as much, etc. His name is Jonathan, hers is Arabella, and apparently they are in love. All Arabella wants from him is for him to find “a way to occupy [his] time” instead of “perpetual holiday.” 

He gets on one knee, missing the point and saying that he sees he must act. 

“Jonathan,” she says. “Do not act. Think.”

The camera zooms to him to imply that this has not occurred before. 

*** IT’S DAD TIME ***

Jonathan is apparently being prevented from having any occupation by his Mean Old Dad, who tortures the servants and harangues his son for being useless. He sounds like the Mean Old Dad from Moulin Rouge a little.

But it gets worse! “You have proven yourself a failure at everything you have done,” says Mean Old Dad, “and you will have no assistance finding an occupation while I am yet living.”

Yikes! Later. 

Jonathan -- It’s Jonathan Strange, ok, it’s him, the other guy in the show -- is getting a drink with Arabella’s brother and probably venting about his Mean Old Dad. And, yep, there it is: “My father delights in torturing me, as he tortures his servants ... as he tortured my mother.” Wow, that’s the same word I used like two paragraphs up!

“All I’ve ever truly wished for was your sister,” says Strange, clearly thinking that is a sweet thing to say instead of a gross one. Arabrother leaves, and Strange empties a flask into his cup. wellllllllp.

Morning. Hangover. Someone is rapping at the chamber door. Strange’s servants are here to get him because his Mean Old Dad is locked in his office. Turns out he’s mean old dead!

Funeral. Strange triumphant. He wonders how long he should wait before asking Arabella to marry him. 

London! Norrell and Childermass in a carriage, reading Norrell’s press clips. He is causing Quite a Stir, which apparently is his intention, or Childermass’s. Norrell is pissed off that London is loud and expensive and that his WSJ crosshatch portrait isn’t flattering. OK, guy. They pass by a street magician who is talking about “the Raven King” and then gives Norrell the world’s weirdest stare. Norrell bitches that street magicians give the practice of magic an “such an appalling name” and Childermass does a stage mom thing where he tells Norrell that he is the only one who has any real talent and the future of his art depends on him: “This is what you have worked for. This is your great opportunity. If all goes well here, when folk think of a magician...”

“...They will think of myself,” says Norrell, with chilling self-reverence. Childermass gives him a little more pep talk and sends him out of the carriage. What -- what kind of dynamic did I just watch? 

New scene. Parliament. Somebody’s yelling, and -- is that Samuel West?! -- and Samuel West (!) is looking bored. Nobody told me Samuel West was in this show! Wow! Samuel West. 

Norrell is wandering boringly through the halls. 

Turns out Samuel West is the target of the parliamentary harangue (which is, from what I understand of Actual Parliament, just punching the clock for these guys) and has the decency to look a little ashamed of it. His name in the show is Sir Walter Pole, not Samuel West. He stands to rebut, and does so with all the sneering, grandstanding, and rhetorical posturing that constitute the parliamentary equivalent of “slow Monday.”

He tosses a zinger to the opposition leader on his way out, and Norrell tries to lobby him in the, uh, lobby. But Sir Walter just scoots into his office, and one of his servants shuts the door in Norrell’s face. The servant says, he knows Norrell has an appointment, but can they move the meeting to Chez Sir Walter instead of the office? 

Scene change. Chez Sir Walter. There’s a lady there who tries to snob Norrell, and it works until she hits on an academic subject. They discuss “fairy servants” and Norrell explains that fairies are trouble-with-a-capital-t-and-that-rhymes-with-p-and-that-stands-for-pool. 

The servant/scheduler from earlier is handing out tea, and we learn that his name is Stephen. 

Norrell states his intention: to use magic to help in the war. Sir Walter is totally snowed by this, and thinks maybe magic could be used to clean up uniforms or like, entertain people maybe? He Doesn’t Get It. Norrell, clearly the IT guy of his day, heaves a sigh.

There’s a young woman coughing pathetically and curled up on a chaise longue in the background, and Sir Walter introduces her as his fiancée Emma, like it’s totally normal to be this sick in somebody’s living room. Norrell is very surprisingly sweet to her, and she says she’s pretty into magic. Norrell suggests hot tea with lemon and nutmeg for her cough. Sir Walter kicks him out with a lecture: “Magic is not respectable. The government cannot meddle in such things.” OK.

“How’d it go?” says Childermass, back in the carriage.

“Very well,” says Norrell, on the verge of tears. I’m not letting go of the stage mom analogy because it seems to get more and more on the nose. Norrell notices they’re not going home, and Childermass says nope, they’re going Lady Godstone’s house: “It’s a soiree.”

“A party?” says Norrell, looking devastated. “I wish to go home and read a book.”

Norrell at a party. It’s like those MBTI specialized hells, and this is INTJ hell. It’s crowded, people are laughing, and Norrell doesn’t know anyone, but they’re all gossiping about him. Norrell escapes INTJ Hell and shuts himself in the host’s library, or INTJ Heaven. Ah, dichotomy. 

After a minute of Alone Time with Books, Norrell is interrupted by two Party People. Party Guy 1 is harassing the Party Guy 2, apparently the host, about how Norrell was promised, but no magic seems to have been did. “That gentleman is reading a book!” he says, of Norrell, to demonstrate how boring and amagical the party is. 

Norrell interrupts them and kind of says hi I’m the guy you’re talking about. They both recover awkwardly. Party Guy 2 introduces himself as Drawlight, and Party Guy 1 as Lascelles. Drawlight tries to drag Norrell out to introduce him to people and Norrell slips out the back. 

He’s met at outside by like the street magician from earlier, who says some creepy stuff to him: “You think yourself a very fine fellow, hoarding books like a miser hoards gold. But I have a book you won’t find in your library, or any other.”

Norrell tries to get back inside, but the doors have locked behind him. 

“It’s written by the Raven King,” says the creepy guy. Norrell makes the face I make when someone tells me they saw a spider in their shower five years ago, which is to say absolute living nightmare horror. “And it tells me all about you.”

Creepy Guy introduces himself as Vinculus, magician of Threadneedle Street, so abruptly that Norrell almost pees. He goes on that Norrell’s coming was foretold, and while he’s doing this he’s leaning in and menacing him in like, kind of an overboard way? 

Norrell scoots away and, feeling safer, snottily shouts that magic can’t tell the future and only total hacks make prophecies. He undermines this by continually yelling for Childermass. 

Vinculus keeps going: Two magicians will appear in England, one will be Fearfulness and one will be Arrogance. Some stuff will happen, both will fail, some other stuff. Norrell is stuck on the two magicians thing. Vinculus wanders off, and Norrell shouts for Childermass again. He looks really scared! 

Back Chez Norrell, Childermass is trying to calm Norrell down, and asks what Vinculus wanted. Norrell hysterics that he mentioned a book, “and if he does have a book, I want it, and then I want to go home to Yorkshire.” 

Childermass plays hardball: “Do you wish to make a success of this, or do you not?”

New Day. Childermass watches Vinculus sell spells on the street. Norrell meets Drawlight and Lascelles in his house and, surprise surprise, they want a favor, to be the guys who get credit for discovering him. Norrell is refusing, he doesn’t want to attend parties or do dumb stuff, he wants to go home.

Meanwhile, Vinculus and Childermass are talking brass tacks about whether Norrell will get Vinculus’s book. Childermass chooses an odd method of intimidation by like, threateningly whipping out some tarot cards to tell Vinculus’s fortune. I mean, if that’s worked before... Vinculus tries to one-up him by telling Norrell’s fortune. Is this like, a tarot duel? Vinculus has turned all the cards to kings, and says it means that “the Raven King is coming.” Childermass is pissed that his cards are all messed up now. I know!

Chez Norrell. On their way out, Drawlight and Lascelles gleefully mention that Sir Walter’s fiancée is dead. Well, she was pretty sick. Norrell starts to mutter about how hard it is to bring someone back from the dead. Drawlight transparently eggs him on. 

“I will need to send for more books,” says Norrell. He’s so into this plan! 

New scene. Jonathan Strange finds some peasants doing something poor, and rides up to interfere. They explain that they’ve found a magician sleeping under the hedge. What? Sure. It’s Vinculus. 

Vinculus wakes up, stares right at Jonathan, and gives him the two magicians, Fear and Arrogance, speech while stumbling around. Jonathan Strange looks very confused. He’s also holding a large stick for reasons that are obscure to me. Vinculus tells Strange that he is destined to become a great magician. Strange pokes him with his stick and tells him to choose someone else, because it sounds like being a magician sucks. Still, he buys two spells from Vinculus, probably because a nice patrician power move is to condescendingly buy someone’s wares. 

That night at dinner, Strange is telling Arabella about his big plan for the farm he’s inherited, and she laughs at him because the plan is bad.

“Very well, I’m going to study magic,” he says. Arabella and her brother are shocked. They all look at the spells and Strange decides to like, do one, right there at the table. It’s a spell to discover what your enemy is doing presently. It works, and Strange sees a stranger, apparently his enemy, in a mirror. 

“Good magicians conjure up fairy spirits and long-dead kings,” says Strange. “I appear to have summoned the spirit of a banker.” It’s Mr Norrell. Ha!

London, Norrell. He arrives at Sir Walter’s house with a huge book. Sir Walter gives him access to the room where Poor Dead Emma is like, dead. Norrell shuts them out, alone with the corpse, and opens his book, looking terrified. 

There’s silence, and something rattles, and a man with Ziggy Stardust hair and huge eyebrows appears. He’s also got a synthed voice and a weird jacket that I can’t pause on to figure out. He is clearly a fairy, and Norrell clearly summoned him, and he acknowledges that Norrell is destined to return magic to England. He does some back and forth about “what do I get if I resurrect this woman.” He wants to help Norrell and get credit, Norrell wants him to do this one quick necromancy and never be summoned again. The fairy does the old “maybe I will take my business to your competitor” and Norrell freaks out: “There is no other magician.”

“Of course there is another magician,” says the fairy. “He is your dearest friend in all the world.”

“I have no friends,” says Norrell. I laugh. He asks the fairy again if he can do the necromancy. 

The fairy says, if he gets half of Emma’s life, it’s on. Norrell looks sad, but then he asks if they should sign something. The fairy is like no, I’ll just take something of Emma’s. The shadow of his hand stretches over her. Yikes!

Cut to Drawlight and Lascelles hanging out downstairs. They hear a woman scream. Double yikes! Everybody runs upstairs and Emma is fighting her way out of her funeral shroud. Triple yikes! Her mother points out that half of her little finger on her left hand is missing. Quadruple yikes! She brushes it off, looking out of it, and asks Sir Walter to dance with her. 

Norrell zombie-walks out to his carriage. Quintuple yikes!

Until next time, Favorite Show!

[thelastspeecher]

105, college fiddauthor

105. “You can’t make up for it by giving me a Tic-Tac.”

Okay, so, I got these prompts in September.  I’m...officially calling them done.  Sorry, folks, I took on more prompts than I should have, and then life kicked me in the ass.  It’s been too long, I’m not doing the rest of them.  I’m posting this one because I had it mostly written when I took my hiatus from prompts.

I’ll find a shorter prompt list, and reblog that one while I’m still on break.  Because I like doing these prompts, and I wanna thank y’all for putting up with my increasingly depressing posts.

Send me a number and characters and I’ll write a drabble! 

               Fiddleford stormed into the dormroom he shared with Ford.

               “Oh, uh, h-hey Fiddleford,” Fordstammered.  Fiddleford slammed the doorclosed and glared at his roommate.  “Howdid your exam go?”

               “How did my exam go?  How didmy exam go?!” Fiddleford rumbled. Ford flinched.  “How do ya thinkit went?  I barely got out of bed in timeto run to the class.  Didn’t get a chanceto brush my teeth, comb my hair, put on my lucky underwear, nothin’!”  Fiddleford sat down heavily on his bed.  “I completely bombed it.  Hiroshima, Nagasaki.”

               “I feel like you’re being a bitoverdramatic,” Ford said timidly. Fiddleford laughed, but the sound had no humor to it.

               “And this comin’ from the kingof drama himself!  Stanford Pines, thatwas the worst exam I’ve ever taken in my entire life.  And it’s all yer fault.”

               “I think that’s a bit rude,”Ford protested.  “You shouldn’t havestayed up all night studying.”

               “I only stayed up all nightbecause you were makin’ noise the entire time! I can’t fall asleep when there’s lights on in the room and my dangroommate mutterin’ under his breath ‘bout the latest Hardy Boy’s novel.”

               “It wasn’t the Hardy Boys.”

               “Then who was- nope.  Never mind. I don’t care.”  Fiddleford grabbedthe largest pillow off his bed and flung it at the window.  

               “Don’t do that.  I’m not completely sure the windows are madeof glass.  They could very well breakunder minor levels of stress,” Ford said, picking up the pillow.  He held it out to Fiddleford, who turned awayfrom him.  “Seriously, Fiddleford, I- I’msorry if I kept you up, but one poor grade won’t sink your academic career.”

               “Hello kettle, this is the pot,”Fiddleford muttered.  Ford frowned.

               “What?”

               “That’s the pot callin’ thekettle black,” Fiddleford snapped.  “Whowas it what had to talk ya down when ya got yer first C, eh?”

               “That’s how I know you’ll befine,” Ford said cheerfully.  “Becauseyou told me before.”

               “That was a C on a ten pointassignment,” Fiddleford ground out. “This is bombin’ a midterm.  Theclass only has grades in exams, and there are only two exams.”

               “…Oh.  That’s, um, unfortunate,” Ford mumbled,rubbing the back of his neck.  “But, it,ah, it’s just a grade, right?”

               “I can’t lose my scholarship,Stanford!  Even though this is thecruddiest university ever, I still can’t afford it on my own.”  Fiddleford huffed.  “I refuse to go back home to the farm with mytail between my legs.”

               “You won’t.”

               “Hmph.”

               “For one thing, humans don’thave tails.  Well, most humans don’t,”Ford said, trying to lighten the mood. Fiddleford groaned and laid face down on his bed.  “Human vestigial tails, while fascinating intheory, aren’t very impressive in person.”

               “I know that!  I have spent some time with my cousins,” Fiddleford mumbled into his comforter.

               “You- wait, does one of yourcousins have a vestigial tail?”

               “Quit tryin’ to change thesubject!”

               “So we’re still angry?”

               “Yes!”

               “Oh.  Okay.” Ford sat silently at his desk, listening to Fiddleford mutterdarkly.  He scanned the surface of hisdesk for anything that might smooth his roommate’s hurt feelings.

               It was easy to win Mom’s favor back; a cup of coffee from the place sheliked but Pops said was too expensive. His eyes landed on a small mint tin that he kept his Tic-Tacs in.  Fiddlefordsneaks these from me all the time.  Andthen acts like he didn’t do it.  No,Stanford.  Now is not the time.  Ford scooted his desk chair closer toFiddleford’s bed and cautiously handed him the mint tin.  Fiddleford sighed.

               “Ya can’t make up fer it bygivin’ me a Tic-Tac,” Fiddleford grumbled, but his voice had lost its bitterbite.  He sat up and rubbed hisface.  “Look, Stanford, it’s- my pa didn’tgo to college.  My ma did, but she gotdisowned when she married Pa, and- that’s not relevant.”  Fiddleford clasped his hands together.  “I’m the first person in my fam’ly seekin’ anengineerin’ degree.  I’ve got somecousins that show potential, and they- they look up to me.  So do my younger siblin’s, even if they ain’tinteresting in bein’ engineers.  Thepoint is, I’m breakin’ the mold an awful lot by goin’ here, fer thisdegree.  It’s- it’s almost a test, to seeif McGuckets can branch out into more lucrative fields ‘n farmin’ ‘n teachin’.  If I fail, I’m lettin’ myself down,sure.  But more importantly, I’m lettin’down my relatives, the ones lookin’ up to me. My- my lil sister told me that if I could be an engineer, she could be ascientist, too.”  Fiddleford looked downat his feet.  “Did I get accepted toother schools?  Sure, but even with scholarshipsat those places, this was the only one I could afford.  My fam’ly ain’t wealthy.  If I wash out here, that’s- that’s it fer me.”

               “But you’re brilliant!” Fordprotested.

               “Yeah, well, brilliance don’tpay the bills,” Fiddleford snapped.  “Notin a backwater one-cow town like the one I grew up near.  Near.  My folks don’t technically live inside citylimits, ‘cause of the farm.  I don’t knowwhy yer here, when ya could’ve gotten any school ya wanted.  But- but this is the only school I can go to,without makin’ my parents broke.  Youhave a fallback, Stanford Pines.  I don’t.”

               “I- I’m sorry,” Ford saidquietly.  “I’ll try to be moreaccommodating.”  Fiddleford noddedsilently.

               “Thank you.  And I’ll actually keep banjo practicerestricted to non-quiet hours, like I’m s’pposed to.”

               “Thank you.”  A moment of silence passed.  Ford cleared his throat.  “The dining hall closes in an hour.  We should get food soon if we’re eating fromthere.”

               “Pfft, like I’d eat that after a rough exam.  Callin’ it hog swill is too complementary.”  Fiddleford grabbed his truck keys off hisbedside table.  “Come on.  Let’s go to that chili place on FourthStreet.  I’ll drive.”

[rycien]

YGOTAS FanDub PL - Episode 6 - Everybody Loves Mako

Yami: Meanwhile, in an alternate universe.

Joey: Boy am I hungry!

Yugi: You’d think that Pegasus should at least be responsible for making sure we have food. I mean, what kind of a tournament is this even?

Tèa: It’s just like he’s trying to starve us to death.

Pegasus: Gorgonzola cheese and the finest wine in the world!

Croquet: Um, Sir, another participant died of hunger. Maybe… we should… I don’t know, provide everyone some kind of sustenance?

Pegasus: Ooooo, yes. Let them eat cake! I’ve always wanted to make a reference to that.

Croquet: Um, Sir, we don’t have any cake. We only have plenty of gorgonzola cheese and-

Pegasus: Gorgonzola cheese and the finest wine in the world!

Croquet: Right, that.

Pegasus: Well then give them that!

Croquet: Um, but, uh Mr. Pegasus. You already ate all of the gorgonzola cheese a-

Pegasus: Gorgonzola cheese and the finest wine in the worrrrrrrrrrrrr-

[Cut to Intro]

Mako: You there! You’re stealing my fish!

Tristan: We thought they were wild fish!

Mako: You found them on the land!

Tristan: We thought they were caught and abandoned!

Mako: They were cooking over a fire!

Tristan: We thought it was witchcraft!

Tèa: Tee hee hee hee hee hee, hee. You’ve got an octopus on your head.

Mako: Oh, this is my friend, Otto, the gay octopus.

Otto: He-ey!

Tèa: Ugh, it’s only slightly more repulsive than regular octopuses.

Mako: Get out of here Otto! I’m trying to meet new people!

Joey and Tristan: NOOOOO!!!

Tristan: Homophobia!

Joey: We wanted to eat that gay octopus.

Tristan: You’re a goonie!

Mako: I’m a duelist.

Yugi: Wow, he’s a duelist! Remember in the first season when meeting another duelist was something extraordinary? That’s exactly what’s happening right now!

Mako: Hey, you’re Yugi Muto! The guy who beat Seto Kaiba.

Yugi: Right!

Mako: In that case, I’d like to eat together with you and your friends, to show my respect.

Yugi: Gosh, thanks Mako!

Tristan: You’re a goonie!

Mako: And it was right then that the guy from the subs asked for my help in translation, and I told him ‘yes’.

Yugi: Wow, really? I also helped in translation. What a coincidence!

Mako: Exactly! Everyone should only watch the subbed version!

Yugi: Remember when we were the worthless fallbacks for the people who do the subs? That’s exactly what’s happening right now!

Tristan: You’re a goonie!

Yugi: It was nice of you to share your fish with us Mako.

Mako: Ha, ha. Don’t worry friends. There was plenty more where that came from!

Yugi: I think we should go.

Mako: Leaving so soon, are you?

Tristan: What a nice guy.

Tèa: I like that he doesn’t wear a shirt.

Mako: Hngh [throws harpoon]

Yugi: Ahh!

Tristan: Holy bleep on a bleep sandwhich!

Yugi: Hey, buddy! Did you just try killing me with a harpoon?1

Mako: Yes, I- wait, why are saying everything so weird?

Yugi: Remember when lordthevil talked in a Śląski accent with a lisp? That’s exactly what’s happening right now, Gamer Guy!

Mako: I challenge you to a duel, Yugi!

Background Voices: Thunder! Thunder! Thunder! Thunder Cats! Ahhhhh!

Yami: I accept your challenge Mako, even though it was very inappropriate for you to throw a harpoon at me.

Mako: With my deck filled with the creatures of the deep sea, I am completely unbeatable!

Otto: You tell ‘em, Fish Boy.

Mako: Thanks, Otto. He’s gay.

Yami: Wait, is there an actual ocean appearing on the arena?

Mako: Precisely! My monsters, such as ‘Fiend Kraken’ and ‘Gigantic Jellyfish’2, are going to hide under the water’s surface. This way, you won’t be able to predict my attacks!

Yami: How the hell does this strategy even work if you’re not even using the specialized holographic dueling arena? And how can you even prepare for something like this? Most people use regular cards! This doesn’t make any sense!

Mako: Stop criticizing things related to card games in this series, and start making jokes about the characters again.

Yami: But this is absurd! It’s making my eyes fly right off my face! See? Flying eyes!

Mako: Quiet! Once I play the moon, it will cause the tides to rise. As a result, all of your monsters will become stranded on-

Yami: The moon?!

Mako: Yes, the moon.

Yami: You summoned the bloody moon?

Mako: This spell card’s effect activates the moment-

Yami: That’s even more absurd than having the ocean on the arena! What next, am I going to have a duel with Kaiba’s ghost?

MEANWHILE

Kaiba’s Ghost: Boring. Boring, boring, boring, boring, boring. What’s taking them so long?

Hair Guy: Attention Duelists! According to my hair, they should be here any moment.

Kaiba’s Ghost: Good, because I’ve had about enough waiting! … Hey, do you think my outfit looks fine?

Hair Guy: Attention Duelists! You’re the finest looking ghost I’ve ever seen!

Kaiba’s Ghost: Thank God! It took me hours to squeeze into this costume. You know what? When this is all over, I’ll finally be able to spend some time with my kids. My wife will definitely be pleased. Jesus, she’d definitely be heartbroken if something had happened to me! … Where the hell are they?!

Yami: And now, Stone Soldier, I order you to attack the moon!

Mako: But the moon isn’t a monster card! It doesn’t have any attack or defence points!

Yami: Remember when this series didn’t know how card games worked? That’s exactly what’s happening right now!

Mako: Yugi, you’re the most honest duelist I’ve ever met! Even after you stole my fish and openly broke the rules! You’ve earned my respect!

Yami: And you’ve earned my indifference!

Tèa: I ship it!

Mako: And now, without further ado, I’ll say goodbye to you my friends! Ah ha, ha, ha, ha! Oh, God! A shark! Somebody help me!

Otto: Save yourself, Fish Boy.

Joey: Something tells me we’ll run into Mako again someday.

Yami: He was definitely an interesting character.

Tristan: Hey! Remember when episodes came out every week? That’s exactly what’s happening right-

[Twilight Zone music]

[the more something changes, the more it stays the same]

Pegasus: -rrrrrrld!

 1 Since a British accent is not easily replicated in Polish, Yugi was instead given a Śląski accent with a lisp. Śląsk is a Polish dialect.

2 ‘Gigantic Jellyfish’ is not a real card name. Jellyfish is the closest real card I could find to this.

This video is from the YouTube channel  GryKarcianeDlaDzieci, which takes the abridged series and translates it to Polish. It really surprised me how in character this is to the abridged series, this being an original script of theirs. I’m pretty sure there are other fans out there who don’t understand Polish, so I listened through and translated it to English. I myself am not affiliated with the channel.