#Cackling Hag Beer

[alexa-fika]

Hello there may I respect this for your entertainment

Whitebeard pirates x female readers!

She's Ace grandma ( not married to Garp) but Ace sees her as a grandma figure to him

She's a tall woman around Whitebeard height, same strength level as him as well, captain of the Poison Flower, a crew filled with women, who were admired for their beauty and strength

I can literally imagined the Whitebeard pirates flirting with the Poison Flowers, with Whitebeard flirting with the captain the most

If you don't get enough sleep, drink, or eat enough this one piece shirt get bleach!!

Tale as old as time ( Whitebeard x wife!reader x whitebeard pirates)

A/N Okay I know this is not exactly as requested but I tried to get it as close as possible. I am not sure what you said at the end there but I read as if you don’t get enough sleep, drink or eat enough on this piece get bleached and let me tell you I cackled. Also back to back babyyyyy im on a roll

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which stands for Reader in japanese

Dividers by @/drinkthesky and @/firefly-graphics

"Come on, Honey, won't you teach me a few things?" The woman purs glancing at the chef

"Who am I to say no to a lady? Ya have to hold it this way Darlin'," Thatch explains with a smile, positioning himself behind the woman and guiding her hand to cut the ingredients before her properly.

"Would you look at that?" she grins, marveling at her job.

"Normally, we would now add sugar, but that ain't necessary with ya here."

"Oh?" She grins, looking up at him at his remark

"Well, I would say they are getting along quite well, no?" Dokucha grins, looking at the cooking couple

"It seems they aren't the only ones," Ace says, gesturing to Vista, who is in a similar situation with another opposing crew member.

"Well. I am glad everyone is enjoying their time, but that's enough about it. What about you, Ace? I have not seen you in a while; have you kept contact with your brothers?" she asked, looking down at him.

"I have; Luffy is currently training off with Silvers Rayleigh."

"Rayleigh? Now, that is a name I haven't heard in a while; how come you didn't tell me about that, Darling?" She said, turning to the man behind her

"Never came up," he grumbled

as he downed another chug of the sake in his hand, glaring at her as she swiped it off his hands

"Never came up my ass, and What have I told you about drinking so much, you idiot?!" she growls.

"Shut up, you damn hag"

"Is that how you treat your wife? Not to mention the one who is currently treating you?! Marco, has he kept this up when I am not around?"

"Every minute Gran, pops won't listen to what the nurses and I tell him."

"Is that so?" She said, turning to the man who looked away from her, mumbling curses both towards her and his oldest son

"What was that, you old man?" She sneered, a dark aura surrounding her as she glared at him

"You're going to teach my girls the wrong thing; they are still young and impressionable."

"Uh, Should we do something about it?" One of the newer recruits asked as he glanced at the two giants bickering

"Leave them be. This is normal for them-yoi."

"Besides, Pops deserves a hard time after all the hard times he has given me and the nurses." Marco shrugged as he sipped more of his beer

"Why are you so stubborn?" She says, shaking her head

"I swear you are getting too old to be this stubborn."

"I didn't even know Pops was married," he mutters, getting the older woman's attention.

"Hmm? Edward, when did you get new recruits?" she questioned

"A few weeks ago."

"Ah, look at you, deary, you are all but covered in scratches and sand. You are thinner than a twig!" She fussed, looking down at the young man

"Ah, I-uh, I was left stranded for a few months; Pops rescued me."

"That does sound like him, Edward. When you adopt more sons, you have to tend to them," she sighed, handing the young man a bowl of food.

"Make sure you eat well, yeah? Can't fight if you have no energy."

The man grabs the bowls slowly, slightly confused.

"T-thank you, ma'am."

"No need for that, you can call me Gran, though if it makes you uncomtable, you can continue calling me that" she told him sending him a hearwarming smile as she turned towards her husband again.

"She's an angel," he muttered, turning around at the snickers of Ace.

"Quite the contrast, right? She and Pops"

"How come they aren't on the same crew?" he questioned, looking at the two.

"Hmm? Ah, Gran and Gramps both formed their crews long ago; when they got together, they didn't want to disturb the dynamic they had already built-yoi," he explained.

"Was that it?" Ace questioned, shoveling down food

"That and he said he didn't trust us to keep it in our pants-yoi," he added, much to the latter's shock, causing him to spit out the food.

"What?!"

Guys im struggling with romance 😂, im also not sure I got Whitebeards personality anywhere near; this one is weakkk guys I aint cooking

[jungle-angel]

That's My Kinda Night (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Summary: Your 4th Of July celebration on the Abbott land turns out to be the best you've ever had

Warnings: Parenthood, drinking, holiday shenanigans etc.

Tagging: @floydsmuse @bradleybeachbabe

The barbecue was in full swing with John, Royal and a few of their friends manning the grills and smokers, everyone enjoying themselves to the fullest extent. Billy had been deejaying all afternoon while you and Rhett brought out the rest of the food from the house. Amy had been running wild all day with Rose and her friends while Perry had come for his monthly visit.

Kayce and Rip rolled up in the truck just a few minutes later, the snap cover of the truck looking rather lumpy. "The hell you guys got in here?" Rhett asked.

"Take a look," Kayce said with a huge, shit eating grin.

Rhett pulled back the cover, his jaw hanging wide open and his eyes bugging from his skull. "Ya'll didn't!" he exclaimed.

"The fuck we did," Rip chuckled.

"And he gave'em all too you guys?"

"Got it half off for the Fourth," Kayce answered. "Even the big bangers."

Rhett gasped when he saw them, those glorious, huge fireworks that Gale Burch, the neighborhood church hag, destested with every fiber of her being. There was no way in hell they were going to pass up that opportunity.

Royal, John and Wayne all came down a minute later, beer cans in hand and Wayne puffing away on a cigar. "Looks like ya'll have a good haul," John remarked.

"Got it all half off, Dad," Kayce told him.

The three grown men were wide eyed and laughing with surprise. "Holy Jeebus, Mary and Joseph!" Royal laughed. "Now that's what I call a load."

"Wide load, heavy toad," Wayne laughed.

"Wanna help set'em off, Dad?" Rhett asked.

"Does a bear shit in the woods?" Royal retorted.

Rhett laughed as you made your way down the path to the truck. A squawk escaped your throat when you saw the load in the truck bed. "Oh my God, Gale's gonna have a shit fit when she hears these," you chuckled.

"Good, maybe it'll get the stick outta her ass," Rhett laughed.

You and Rhett went back to the barbecue, enjoying the rest of the night as it came, dancing under the pavilion with your friends and family and enjoying all the tasty food. You, Rhett, Kayce, Monica, Rip and Beth all laughed your asses off as you tried to do the Cupid Shuffle, screwing up and laughing along the way. Unbeknownst to you, your mother-in-law, Patricia and the other mothers had all snuck down to the truck to get a look at the load of fireworks.

"Oh my God, ya'll are never gonna believe this," Cecelia said, pulling back the snap cover.

Patricia gasped and so didn't Tanya Rainwater. Winona Redwood cackled like a witch when she laid eyes on it too, all of them excited to see what kind of chaos this would cause the very next day.

"If Wayne burns his eyebrows again I'm done," Patricia chuckled, throwing her hands up.

"That ain't the only thing he's gonna burn off," Cecelia told her. "Remember back in college when these idiots drove all the way down here and came back up to Bozeman with a load of'em?"

The women all groaned, the memories of their husbands' stupidity still fresh as it had been forty years previously.

"Yeah and Chief Running-Of-The-Mouth and his partner, Afraid-Of-Crotch-Hair, didn't realize that ya'll don't light that shit near your pants," Patricia laughed. "Remember, eyes open, knees shut!"

"If Wayne's knees are open, shut your eyes," Tanya laughed.

They all laughed, returning back to the pavilion, their husbands all leading them in for a dance as "Copperhead Road" began to play from the speakers.

At last the sun went down and the gang began prepping for the fireworks. The older kids, some of whom were your students at the Amelia County Steiner School, were being shown how to properly light everything, while you and Rhett began unloading the haul.

"You ready for the show?" Rhett purred in a low voice as he pressed you against the trunk of the tree.

"More than ready cowboy," you giggled, tipping the brim of his hat up.

He leaned in and kissed you, his lips soft and warm as they moved in sync with yours. Your arms wrapped around his waist, Rhett's hands gently cupping your face.

"Hey you two wanna quit suckin face and come help?!" Royal called from across the field.

"Comin Dad!" Rhett answered.

You and Rhett hurried along to go and help them set up. The kids were all eager to get started now that it was pitch black out, the anticipation in the air so thick, it could've been cut with a knife.

"Daddy! Daddy! I wanna light it!" Amy chirped.

"Yeah I wanna light it too!" Rosie Hawk piped in.

"Rosie, ya'll need to ask your mommas if you can light it. Amy you and Rosie are still too little," Rhett told her.

The two girls scrunched their faces up in their usual pouty, disappointed looks, running off to go and raid the dessert table instead.

"Alright kiddos," Rhett said to the group of fifth, sixth, seventh and eighth graders who gathered around him. "Ya'll remember what to do?"

"Eyes open," Jaime Campbell answered.

"Knees shut," said Katie Stone.

"And don't burn yourself," Clay Hauser replied.

"Excellent!" Rhett exclaimed. "Now get to work my evil little goons."

"YES SIR!" they all replied.

As soon as the music started to play, you, Rhett and the others went all across the field, lighting off the fireworks. They hissed as they flew into the air, bursting apart in colorful sparks of red, white, blue, gold, green and purple. The screamers and the pinwheels had been the favorite of the kids, flying about in a spiral before disappearing into thin air.

Rhett set off a set that he and the others had called "dragon tails", fireworks that screamed into the air and coiled about like their namesake before exploding with a chest rattling *BOOM!*. Finally, it was time for the big ones.

"Ya'll wanna do the honors darlin?" he asked.

"With pleasure!" you exclaimed happily.

You lit the wick with Rhett's lighter, rushing to get out of the way as it screamed and flew into the air, higher, higher and higher still. High above the treeline it burst apart, everyone covering their ears as golden sparks rained down from above. All at once the colorful rockets flew into the air and exploded to the awe of the onlookers. You and Rhett however, stood back near the trees and shared a kiss, unbeknownst to everyone else.

[the-faramir]

Extinction Curse Session 2023/09/20: The Hag's Heart

Warning: graphic violence!

Midori, Vavo, and Zookdar entered Opper Vandy's embalming room.

"This chamber has a strong odor of chemicals and decay. A long, brass table stands by the south wall, and at the foot of it, a stained iron grate is fixed in the floor near a pair of barrels and a bucket. The north wall holds a work table with a variety of unusual implements, including a large syringe with tubing attached to a glass tank filled with a cloudy fluid, and a large number of surgical instruments, some still showing bloodstains. The back wall of the chamber is covered in shelving that holds hundreds of urns of clay, stone, and metal as well blank nameplates in brass, and even a few gravestones that have yet to be inscribed with names of the deceased.

"This laboratory is where Vandy drains bodies and embalms them with a chemical mixture of alcohol, camphor, and myrrh. It is an imperfect process, but it preserves a body reasonably well for a few days if the weather isn’t too warm. Drained fluids are poured through the grate in the floor, which descends 6 feet to a gravel sump. Vandy regularly dumps chemicals down this drain, but it does little to forestall the stench of death that arises from within. The shelving at the rear of the lab holds unused urns and gravemarkers that he sells to clients. Cremations are performed off-site."

Vavo pointed toward the urns and gravely stated, "There. The night hag Skarja hid her heartstone in one of those urns."

"Why waste time searching? Let's smash them all!" Zookdar hefted his gnome flickmace and started bashing the urns to pieces. One urn made of lead simply toppled to its side, its lid still intact. "So far, nothing. It must be in that lead one!"

"You know, we could have just looked through them," Midori interjected, "There weren't that many, and those urns looked expensive!"

Zookdar shook off Midori's concerns. "This is too important. We have to stop the hag before she can claim any more victims!"

Vavo approached the lead urn and opened it with no small effort, causing a puff of ashes to billow out. "Let me see…aha!" Vavo pulled out and held aloft a silvery necklace with a heart-shaped pendant made from a clear gemstone. "The Hag's Heart! Midori, hold onto this. Put this in a safe place and tell nobody." He tossed the necklace to Midori, who tucked it away into one of her belt pouches.

Suddenly, the skies outside of the embalming room rumbled angrily. The party rushed outside to investigate.

"The air is split by a cloud of brimstone-laden steam, which parts to reveal a hideous hag with elephantine feet and a body covered in razor-sharp horns."

Midori smacked herself on the forehead. "Ah, shit! We touched her stuff an' pissed her off! Well, it's three on one. Let's get her!" She drew her rapier in preparation to fight.

Then, through the billowing steam, another figure emerged: an enormous black horse with flaming hooves. With every breath, it exhaled black smoke. It strode to Skarja's side and nuzzled her.

"Foolish mortals! That item belongs to me! Give to me my heartstone this moment, and I shall release the mortician to you." She extended her hand expectantly.

Vavo stepped forward, chest out, and struck the shaft of his beer-stein flail defiantly onto the ground. "Foul creature, we shall do no such thing! Your reign of terror ends tonight, for we are true and righteous heroes, and we shall defeat you and your hellish minion!"

Midori's eyes shifted from side to side. "Well, maybe some of us are righteous," she muttered.

"No deal?" Skarja was taken aback momentarily. "Oh, uh, that is only a minor setback. Yes! I shall slay you all and take my heartstone back from your cold, dead hands!" She swiftly mounted her pet nightmare and cackled intimidatingly.

Zookdar bellowed, "Then we fight!" He let out a war cry and dashed at the night hag. A swing of his flickmace connected with her, but did not appear to damage her much. A sweep of his flickmace at the nightmare missed the target.

Midori's attention was drawn to the nightmare as she desperately tried to recall any knowledge she could about the hellish beast. "Uhhh, fiery, smoky horse. Right. Well, EAT ROCKS!" She waved her left hand to telekinetically pull up some blunt stones from the ground, then fired the projectiles at the nightmare. They bounced off of the nightmare's nose, causing it to flinch, earning Midori a menacing glance. "Huh. Guess I better try somethin' else."

Skarja pointed a clawed finger at Zookdar. "Impudent fool! I summon the plagues of the abyss to vex thee!" The color ran out of Zookdar's face and he slumped somewhat, weakened. She slashed out twice at the gnome with her claws for good measure, bloodying his face.

The nightmare bit Zookdar and pounded him with its flaming hooves, knocking Zookdar to the ground.

Vavo shouted, "Zookdar!" He quickly called upon Cayden Cailean for the divine power to heal his injured companion, but Zookdar was still bloody.

Zookdar pulled himself to his feet with some effort and swung at the hag and the nightmare.

Midori lamented, "We never shoulda started this with only three of us! Hey, what if we start up a circus performance, and then send in the clowns! Yeah! Then the clowns can help us fight!"

"Midori!" Zookdar yelled, exasperated, "You're not helping! And it doesn't work that way!"

"Ugh, fine!" She raised her hand upward and her eyes glowed green. "Behold, the grand finale of your wickedness, Skarja! My words, sharp as daggers and swift as arrows, shall pierce the veil of your dark arts. Let the truth bite deeper than lies with my biting words!"

Skarja just looked at Midori and cackled. "Oh, child! Your powers are weak! Perhaps some more weakness would suit you…." She pointed at Midori, shooting a ray of cold light into her forehead. Midori felt her body grow feeble. "Now sleep, little one!" Skarja flicked her wrist and Midori felt a wave of exhaustion hit her, but she shook it off and remained alert.

"Hyaaah!" Skarja encouraged her nightmare to run over Zookdar in a straight line headed toward Vavo, who was unable to evade the trample. Zookdar grunted and collapsed into a heap on the ground. Vavo shrieked in pain from the hooves and caught on fire from the flames.

Vavo stumbled away from his foes and moved toward Zookdar, casting another healing spell his way. "What?" Vavo exclaimed as Zookdar remained still. "Midori, we're in over our heads, here! Zookdar's down!"

Not about to back down, Midori sustained her spell. "Skarja, you may lurk in shadows and deal in nightmares, but your malice is no match for my spirit. With these biting words, I strike at you, let my voice carry the weight of my resolve!" Skarja squawked from the power of the attack. Midori followed up with another telekinetic projectile attack on Skarja, eliciting a hiss of pain.

"You vex me, little one, but first I shall attend to the one with real power!" She turned the nightmare around toward Vavo and readied a strike with her claws. As rider and steed bore down on the halfling cleric, hooves and claws struck true with sickening squelches. Skarja turned toward Midori. "Now it's your turn to die!"

With the last bit of her spell's power, Midori spat out, "Skarja, you may think you're a night terror, but I am the dream you fear! Your malevolence is no match for my melody. With a voice that cuts deeper than the sharpest blade, I unleash upon you the power of my biting words!" Skarja reeled from the hit. Midori let loose more projectiles but completely missed her target.

Skarja wiped her face with her hand. "Little fox. I just realized something. YOU are the one holding my heartstone." She twisted her hands up into the air. "Heart of hearts, bring forth a shadow blast!"

From Midori's pouch where she was hiding the heartstone, a glowing, sickly red light emanated followed by a destructive blast of shadows, lightning, and ice slamming into her body. She screeched with pain as every muscle in her body contracted at once. She almost fell to the ground, but was able to catch herself by using her rapier like a cane, barely holding on to her consciousness. Midori looked up at Skarja in combined fury and defiance. "Still standing, bitch!"

"Not for long." Skarja's face twisted into a cruel, vicious grin. "Crush her!" The nightmare strode forward to trample Midori.

Midori's vision blurred and her eyes flickered shut briefly, opening to see the nightmare drawing closer as if in slow motion. The red light from her pouch illuminated the nighttime scene with surreal highlights and shadows. Once the nightmare's hooves landed upon her, pounding her into the ground with jarring crunches, Midori felt the most intense pain that she had ever felt in her life. She felt the urge to scream but found her throat too full of liquid to make a sound. Before she could process what was happening, the pain stopped, much to her surprise.

Midori thought to roll to the left and jump to her feet, but she quickly realized that she was completely immobilized. Her feet would not respond. Nor her legs. Nor her arms. She could not even turn her head to look for Skarja. Her urge to gasp for air yielded to the inability to move her lungs.

Midori's eyes flickered shut once more. Fractions of seconds became minutes to her.

In her mind's eye, she saw a vision of her parents. "Okaeri nasai, Mido-chan <Welcome back, Mido-chan>," they replied together.

"Tadaima <I'm home>," Midori replied, reflexively. She saw visions of Toby and Myron appear as well. "I'm…dead." They all looked at her with sorrow.

"Wait, where are my siblings? Are they not with you?"

The visions reached out to embrace Midori. She reciprocated, but a wall of force prevented them from touching.

Midori felt something tug at her soul, pulling her farther and farther from her loved ones. "No, wait!"

Midori's eyes opened once more to see Skarja's hideous face grinning down at her, illuminated more brightly by the increasing glow of the heartstone that Skarja had just liberated from its hiding place. "Ah, young fox, how your light fades. Gaze upon me and despair. Your life force ebbs like the tide. Your dawn will never come. This is the fate of all who dare stand against the night."

Midori's eyes closed.

[adowbaldwin]

Baldwins Secret part 32

Marthe had never been so tired, Ysabeau was very excited and the wine guy had nothing left. Nothing.

Baldwin did not cry, he absolutely would not break. But his lip was wabbling.

"You look so much like your mother" he croaked out "Beautiful"

Augusta smiled watery tears and swirled her dress "thankyou daddy" she kissed him on the cheek "for everything. For always being there" a small tear worked its way down her cheek and he quickly dabbed it with his hanky

"Dont you dare you will set me off" he hissed, hooking his arm through hers "i cannot believe you chose a Christian church wedding" he grumbled

"It was important to Jack" she patted his hand "are you ready to give me away or are we just going to stand behind these doors all day?"

He smiled at her as he pushed the doors open. Waves of people rose watching the blushing bride walk down the aisle. It felt too long until they reached the other side where her Jack was waiting. She had felt nervous, but as soon as she saw him it all went away. She turned to Baldwin who had his arms opened wide. She crashed into him, and his arms closed around her. He bent his head and whispered "call me Rick Astley, cos ill never give you up"

She snorted, cackling like a hag "you twat"

He chuckled, kissing her on the head and nodding at Jack as he stepped away from her.

"She looks like Antonia, so beautiful. I so wish she was here to see it" Diana quietly spoke, leaning her head on Matthew "look how happy our son is" she blubbered

"Dont start Diana you will set me off" Matthew whispered back

Well, the men cracked as soon as they exchanged vows. Hearing Jack make peace with his past, to promise to be better for his wife is something that made all the men choke up.

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

"You did good with all of them, hopefully i do too with Pen" Sienna sat next to Baldwin who had just had his father daugther dance. He was happily watching Jack and Augusta make a pigs ear of their dance, though neither of them cared

"Where is Penelope?" This was the most she had spoken to him since Rome, only conversations they did have surrounded Penelope, the wedding or the Christening.

"She said something about Horses, Fernando took her and Rebecca out to the stables" she fiddled with her bracelet, not sure how they got here.

Well, she knew why. She had been ignoring him, but still.

"If those two make friends my life is over" he shook his head "over"

"Well you coped with all of your girls and they turned out wonderful so you did something right" she concluded

He turned to her "Sienna if all you have to talk about is my parenting skills, then just leave. I cant sit here with you and it be like this. Its my daughters wedding day, just go"

She stood up, extending her hand "dance with me?"

He shook his head "nope" he folded his arms looking away

"Come on, ill let you squeeze my bum" she poked his arm "cant let Diana and Matthew get out there first, come on their first dance is almost over"

"Women i understand, you i do not" he grumbled, lacing their hands together and pulling her to the dance floor

She pressed her head to his chest and smiled "how did you feel about Diana and Matthew namimg their boys after yours?"

"Honoured" his head rested on hers, delicately twirling around as more couples filled the floor "i hope i do them justice, as a Godparent"

"We can trudge through it together" Di and Matt had a twisted sick sense of humour making them two Godparents eventhough they weren't talking "if you want to be together" she lifted her chin so she could see him "sorry for being a cold hearted Witch"

"You are going to have to woo me first young lady" he narrowed his eyes "head scratches, back tickles. I mean it, wooing"

She stepped up on her tippy toes and pressed a small kiss on his lips "you are such a baby"

"I bet hes putty in your hands by the end of the next song" Diana jibed, having forced Matthew to move in their direction

"Do i have to remind you Diana that you owe me for a 2000 year old unpaid debt. 100 sestertius and a beer"

She scrunched up her face, tapped her cheek and ummed "I dont remember shaking on such a bet"

He blinked at her blankly "i hope your son has more honour then you"

She shrugged "i hope your daughter is more forgiving then you"

They spent the rest of the evening facing eachother from opposite ends of the room, eyes squinted and secretly texting eachother in sibling banter.

It almost kicked off when Diana texted 'you dont burn im the sun because your a vampire, its becauae your a ginger ninja'

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Witcher of the Night (Chapter 23.1)

I KNOW MY EDIT SUCKED. HEH. That’s my book cover in Wattpad. Couldn’t post CHAPTER 23.2 there because the application is glitching and I’m annoyed af. Anyway, enjoy this chapter for WOTN. 

CHAPTER 23

WOTN MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: Maybe a witch isn't the key for your getaway because it could be deeper than that.

Warnings: The summary sucked. I couldn't write anything to avoid spoilers. LMAO. Curses. Tybalt and Geralt banter/hate for each other? 😂 Rohesia is my OC, not connected to any of the games or books. The witcher character named Gerd (AHA. I'VE INTENTIONALLY DID THIS. Surprised to see a stomach sickness used as a name lmao jk 😂) from the Bear school has been used. Bethleheigm is also a made up kingdom from moi. 😂 (Pronounced as Beth-le-haym)

Words: 4.3k

A/N: I know Kaer Morhen is located in Kaedwen. Damn it. I lately knew it when I was already half way through this fic and I can't change it anymore. Let's just say...oof. They'll eventually go there. Don't worry. Oop. Is it a spoiler? 😭

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE! Sorry for the grammatical errors and such because English isn’t my mother tongue! PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK AFTER READING, BB! I apologize for errors!

Disclaimer: PNG's and pictures used in edits are not mine even the GIF's too. (Credits to the rightful owners of the gifs, it’s written in the lower part of their gifs. Though, some don’t. Still, credits to them. If you want it to be removed, just kindly message me) The edits and this fanfic is definitely from moi. Character development and personalities are based from my understanding and how I want them to be. This has no connection towards the books or games.

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

DAY THREE CAME QUICKLY THAN WHAT WAS EXPECTED. Taking the shorter route to keep the proximity of hours easier for traveling back faster to Kaedwen. Geralt and Tybalt had an allayed journey towards the outskirts of Bethleheigm.

If a narrator was utterly dramatic, he or she could say that the witcher was beyond exhausted over being with the higher vampire because he only knew how to gall him over and over---a deathless cycle through out their travel, side by side with their own horses and vexation over each other. Yet, Geralt rarely has given him his energy for a battle that was pathetic as it ends.

They've both shared a night somehow. Their backs meters away from each other. With Geralt and his sarcasm never shutting one's eye until Tybalt was cursing him out under the moon light because the white wolf warned him not to think about hunting people to quench his thirst for blood. The higher vampire was left throwing him a pebble on his back and muttering how the full moon won't be until the day of the feast in the castle where he would technically celebrate over being a vampire but this choice could also be eradicated since blood was not in the highest scale in his pyramid law of needs.

Nights weren't the only thing shared between the two. Unbeknownst to them till Geralt was humming in displeasure, they've actually shared a drink of your home made ale. Tybalt commented how it was as good as Kaedwenian stout---perhaps, even better. Mentioning that the beer was probably made of your love for him which made the witcher scrunch his nose for how cheesy it sounded. Tybalt even declared numerical reasons as to why he kept you with him until today because you knew how to make his drunkard self swoon over your culinary skills.

Your cookery abilities were still different and utmost impressive than Geralt's regardless of how he has been used to embellishing his own food alone before. His midget's skills were technically amazing, add up the peculiar recipes that only you know---but, actually existed in earth---your earth. Those recipes that could get his family and him included, humming in deliciousness because it was new for their taste buds.

They were ought to arrive at the abandoned house today. Side by side, Tybalt and Geralt silently rode on their horses. Both of them fed up at the opposite of every presence that galled them to the brim. The witcher blurting out his opinions very frankly at the scowling vampire who was acting like he wasn't there along the hunt.

"You should've just stayed in the castle and played with your army stocks," Geralt grumbled as he held onto Roach's reigns. Tybalt's advancements for what he has done to you never leaving his memories when he clearly remembered the causes about why he was hating him more than to drown in a monster's stinking guts.

"I should've stabbed yer' horse while we were travelling---or feed off to er' horse blood," Tybalt clapped back, sending the remark in the nonchalant way as possible with a sarcastic raise of his brows.

"Leave Roach out of this,"

"Gods, yer' such a strange one, Witcha'!"

The witcher's scowl was as nasty as an Alghoul's bum. Tybalt seemed to be thoroughly embittered for even tagging along with a cold heart that was grudging to even join his hunt. If it weren't for the queen's request, he would never even be within Geralt's area of personal space. Howbeit, people have been trying to frustrate him even more with their sudden decisions erupting from either sides, like a dormant volcano that no one expects to explode.

Grey undertoned house. Ramshackled from the roof till the decaying roots of stones stuck in between their spaces. Close enough to be dilapidated if a wolf would've tried blowing the house down---though, the three little pigs weren't inside for it to hunt. They were closing in towards their destination, Geralt was anticipating this point of their journey; to immediately seek for the witch and to come back sooner than expected.

Yet, his anticipation burned in disappointment by the familiar look of the house rooted in front of them.

He'd heard stories about this abandoned home in Bethleheigm through drunk men in the Inns. They were having a tete-a-tete that it was a boobey trap made by homeless pirates who hadn't gotten back to shore, concealing the home as a place for them to steal one's belongings until they were ripped off their coins. Some tattled that the house was a dragon's nest where a woman lived in and disguised as one that Geralt knew entirely as a bullshit rumor because no dragons would dare pick to stay in the middle of a forest where the house was the only home built through out the map.

The witcher jumped off his horse, hushing Roach down with a soft caress to her mane because she'd begun to neigh.

Tybalt couldn't help but cackle from how he was affectionately eyeing the horse as if she was his other half, "---I wouldn't be surprised if ye' bring yer' horse with ye' while you bed yer' little woman!" he outlaughed and had a hand on his clothed stomach, shaking his head from the witcher's strange gestures with everything.

"Hmm."

Geralt gave him the side eye, endlessly shooting daggers since the moment they bonded together. His comment receiving a lour from the brooding white wolf because of the baldy judgement said.

"Yer' grumpier than usual---like ye' have been in a fight with yer' current flame---is it the tiny lass, anotha' one of your sorceresses or princess?" the Upir quipped with a smirk, hopping off his own horse before giving the house a look. He seemed to waver with a clear of his throat.

Geralt disregarded his ridicule and question with a blessed silence, his mood turning sour from even mentioning you. The weccan's golden eyes scanned all over the tumbledown house, his amber narrowing as he examined what was expected to be a necromage's hideout that he has heard from one of the drunk men's gossips in the inns.

"This abandoned house," he gruffly started beneath his baritone, harsh breathing as Geralt huffed for his disappointment over the founded location. The bind he had with you turning heavier as days go by like he knew you were turning into a melancholic person due to his faults. Hence, it was keeping him more insane than he can ever be because he always seem to offer only mistakes towards his people---where they end up getting hurt because of him.

Which wasn't new in his life.

"---There is no hag in here. Only a Necromage I presume."

Tybalt walked several steps to stop beside Geralt, shrugging his fur-coated shoulders with a curl of his upper lip, "I told ye' to take the longer route. Right path, Witcha'."

"And I told that you are bringing us both in an early demise because Golems and Downers are bound to get in our way,"

The higher vampire kept his mouth shut after that, his foot tapping on the ground before he received a subtle warning of Geralt's glare. The witcher was right about it. Basically, Tybalt was trying to stall over their journey because he knew what exactly was the stratagem kept for a clandestine truth bound never to be known.

Geralt pushed his peculiar fidgets away as it was still sounding so loud with his heightened hearing. He narrowed his eyes upon the engraved words carved inside the four corners of a mettalic flattened surface stuck on the grimy, stoned walls.

"Thou who shall take a step, requires a fee for entrance and something valuable to heart in order to talk with death,"

He silently read the words inside his head. Considering the requests before slightly pursing his lips, the ends looking like a frown but was actually just irrespective of what he was currently thinking. The ramshackle home being surrounded by an invisible strong force field shielded for not any normal man could trespass in without the rules asked. Another form of magic that he knew---though, this wasn't just any simple sign. It was created by sorceresses or wizards to safeguard the whole home for decades end, not risking anyone to touch whoever was inside, like it was keeping something from entering the place.

Geralt gave Tybalt a look while the vampire continued to whistle along the winds, his arms crossed in front of his chest whilst checking his awfully long nails, intentionally ignoring his companion until the witcher tried to grab onto a rock, strongly throwing the stone towards his head until Tybalt used his abnormal abilities, instantly dodging the stone coming forth and sprinting beside Geralt in just a second to see him nodding his head for his crackerjack skills that he seldomly uses.

"Coins." the white haired weccan roughly stated before he heard Tybalt huff and grumble from his demands, giving his palm to him and expecting for a bag of coins to be placed on his hands.

"You have your own, Witcher."

Geralt cocked his head to the side with a feigned smile, shaking his head, "My coins will remain untouched. I'm not risking mine for favors asked."

"Fuck you and yer' coins. I hope you feckin' go slow and die as soon as you're done with us,"

In the end, Tybalt eventually had to fish out a bag of crowns inside his coat, begrudgingly dropping them off on the witcher's awaiting palm who has shrugged his broad shoulders for his easy submission. The words to the engraved poster switching to dust, swirling through the air, changing into an arrow pointing at a brick where Geralt had to slightly touch for it to be pushed back.

Thorny, earthy tone colored vines snaked their way out of the hole. The brick of the old house never being seen as the roots formed a symbol of two palms sticking together like it was asking for alms. Geralt placed the coins on the makeshift hand, slowly slithering its way back to its home.

The house was alive. He was sure of that when he felt the aegis slowly fading away. Its stone doors cracking to slide open for them to enter.

Tybalt hasn't moved a step from his side. He returned to crossing his fairly muscled arms, hearing hasty pads of footsteps shuffling from behind as Geralt halfly turned to see a Hirrika panting on his side, yelping as a way of his bark towards the witcher who had his eyebrows furrowed in curiosity and stupefaction; stunned to see the familiar beast who has impressively found him despite of his long travel.

"Kolby."

"Your whore's feral pet," The Upir deadpanned, chuckling nasally like a sarcasm.

Tybalt heard a low growl coming the monster, his fangs shown to the vampire who he could sense and remember, his scent awfully making him remember how he'd hurt his master.

"Watch it." Geralt gruffly mumbled, giving Tybalt the side-eye as he tried monotonely hushing the rare beast like how he'd seen you soothe his annoyance or anger whenever Jaskier irritates Kolby.

"Down, Kolby. No teeth." he gruffly scolded with a raise of his palm.

The Hirikka chattered like a cat as he glared at Geralt's temporary companion, spinning on his own place before howling, his snout tilted at the sky as he yowled, the sound making him wince from how loud it was---too sensitive for his heightened hearing. Though, that didn't stop him from judging his gestures, noticing how he was jumping in his own spot whilst doe eyes stared back.

"He's saying something," the white wolf frankly stated, exhaling a languid breath through his nose because he couldn't understand what he wanted, "---Stay here and don't touch Roach or my Hirikka." he mentioned for Tybalt who appeared to be mentally finding their whole interaction as comedic. Geralt took a step forth, subtly leaving a pat on Kolby's head that eventually calmed him down, making him skip his paws to the side.

The Hirikka jumped to sit on his short tail, his knees bent and close to his chest as he silently watched Tybalt and Geralt conversing together with snarls and insensitive jests until the witcher finally moved away from him, bravefully entering the threshold.

"Where ye' going?" Tybalt called out and made him cease his steps, promptly giving the growling Hirikka his heed to see Geralt judging with his slightly entertained peepers, fighting off the curl of his lips because of how his Hirikka was making the higher vampire uneasy. He was agile but lacked knowledge over the beastiality of the continent. Probably, because of how he has been confined in the castle in an early age and known more politics and schemes more than the lore of monsters.

"To ask the Necromage about that witch,"

"Just like that?"

"She might know her whereabouts. Stay here if you don't want to get your vampire nails grimy,"

Tybalt cocked his head to the side, effusive of cursing out the witcher who had a smirk as he turned his back away from him, continuing his path around and ignoring his cavils.

"Why am I even following ye' around, Mutant?"

Geralt of Rivia entered the perimeters. His newly sharpened swords latched on his wide, broad back. Every step had his chest heavier than usual; bred-in-the-bone like he knew there was something happening to you back in the castle that he couldn't decipher and it made him scowl. The energy in the house even adding more of that deep-seated feeling---the home being cursed as well like some sort of magic was ceasing his advancements from talking to this person living inside.

The place wasn't ruined after all. It was all charmed and just a mere visionary trap or distraction that won't let people fall for even staying close to whoever was inside. Clean and utterly fixed, furnitures sat on their proper rooms which held up a second floor that Geralt didn't plan on exploring for as a presence could be felt while he stood in the middle of the kitchen.

"Hmm. Necromage,"

This person was a woman, Geralt silently stated the obvious inside his head. Her voice was tremulous and surprised to see a gigantuan man standing in the middle of her kitchen which she has never seen before in all her life.

"I am no Necromage," Rohesia calmly informed him, her heed turning distant from the mention, "She...has already died. Cristabell, My lady of the rarest in Bethleheigm---the only necromancer in this kingdom. May her soul rest in peace,"

"---You're the witcher." she paused, taking a gander and examining the white wolf before her. White hair falling on the tips of his shoulder blades. Gold eyes. A scowl prominent on his face. This was the witcher she has been warned about from both parties.

Geralt attempted a cynical smile, seeing that she held more lies and have been doing so for a lifetime, "There's no use of lying."

She was feeble. As old as Eanraig in terms of physical appearance but not his actual age since he was a scholar of the forest. The witcher held onto his medallion, seeming to feel no vibrations over his necklace that he strongly felt before the doors have been opened. His white and black spotted eyebrows furrowed for what singularity was happening.

This was supposed to be the Necromage. Yet, why does she felt human who had no magic to offer?

The hoary, old woman was not lying after all.

Rohesia forced to give him a small smile, walking past him to sit on one of the wooden, dining chairs. Gesturing her palm outwards for Geralt to take a seat that he simply answered with silence as he stood rooted on his spot, assessing what she truly was.

"I offer you no lies of secrecy. My mouth speaks nothing but the truth for I am just a mortal who thrives to live peacefully in the continent," she honestly answered his curiosity and judgements which made him nod at her uprightness---making his job easier for him.

The woman really was no necromage at all.

"A mortal who stands for her virtues. Hmm."

"Why are you here, Witcher?"

His glower was permanent even as he sauntered to where she was, standing upright and leaning a hand on the top portion of her dining chairs whilst he patiently explained.

"To find the hag who has cursed prince Althalos of Kaedwen."

Rohesia only offered a small, genuine smile. Her shaky laugh erupting through her chest because she knew this was the man who her former witcher and lover give fair warning to when the Kaedweni started their murdering plots upon fellow weccans who fall for their crimes. Vesemir never wanted to be involved with their delinquencies, explains his periodic leave in the kingdom---his constant visits for the woman seldomly occurring since Nilfgaard has attacked and conquered another domain after Cintra.

"Are you doing this because Vesemir has told you so?"

Geralt went on with his speechless talk, low humming followed suit for the flabbergast he felt over hearing his senior mentor in the art of their kind. The end of his lips subtly turning the opposite of a lour, relieved to suddenly hear his name through another person's mouth---a woman he probably had a relationship with; a former flame and mortal that Geralt least expect for Vesemir to entertain because of the conducts he had told him prior into becoming one skilled witcher.

It is that being involved with mortals and even having a soft spot in the job won't make them any better.

"Does he visit often?"

She ignored his question with a simple, wholehearted feeble laugh. Her circumvent obvious that Rohesia wanted not to talk about Vesemir after he has chosen to leave her for coins and another woman---another mortal years ago, thinking that because she aged badly was one of the reasons why he chose something better than to be with her. Hence, they were even known to be monsters of their own kind. Monsters who slay other beasts in exchange for coins. It was what she believed them to be---yet, she knew to herself that if Vesemir would come back to her, she would still accept him with all her mortal heart.

She dryly coughed, avoiding his eyes and covering her mouth with a tightened fist that Geralt quickly knew she was physically sick just by the looks of it.

"If you...still want to live and take your coin, turn back around and forget that you have stumbled upon this place forever."

The latter shook his head. Determined to find answers from this elderly human who knew his mentor and a fatherly figure he had been to his life. He believed Rohesia knew more than just Vesemir based on how she was trying to push him away.

"Where's the hag?"

"You cannot find the witch anywhere even out in Kaedwen, Geralt."

He was impressed. Geralt raised both of his eyebrows, pursing his lips with a tilt of his head that she knew his name regardless of not introducing himself yet.

"Vesemir has obviously told you more about me,"

She ignored his statement again, grabbing onto the ends of her dirty Tunic as she stood, saying her words firmly and with finality. Never knowing if her decision over dropping out hints would be good for her isolation from everyone---isolation and somehow imprisoned inside a house. The necromage being her sentinel, a guard given orders that she wouldn't escape and try to spill secrets that will ruin such plans. Howbeit, she still had high respects for Cristabell who had been too kind for her that she has brought Rohesia with her whenever she was out for some business.

"The witch you have been finding has been around the castle for decades."

Perhaps, it was time for the truth to set out free because Rohesia knew she had only weeks to live in the continent. Revenge pushing her through the decision she wanted for trying to keep her contained, watching her every move; ruining more of her wrecked life.

"I have been the queen's loyal servant. After she has given birth to Prince Althalos, he has already been cursed when he was a bairn." Pause. "---Sorceress Ingrith has managed to sneak into their quarters and cast the curse by whispering such spell and gaining a tiny drop of his blood. I've all seen her cantrips and heard them as I came back to guard the prince in his sleep. The wail of an offspring shall bring despair for the royal family,"

The sorceress' name felt like a crime to be told. Heaviness in her chest finally unleashing after decades of being caught up with the lies she was telling people who asked or went to gather information as to who has cursed the prince; finding the witch and ending up dying from the hands of her womanly guard. Cristabell recently died from the hands of the last witcher who she knew as Gerd, the necromage dying after their battle whilst she tried to fight for her cousin's trangression---continuing doing so for the sake of her selfish reasons.

"---She...she was also the king's mistress before the queen has given birth to Prince Althalos while she also gained her position. I may never know if it was made from jealousy over the queen's position. Though, it is their life that I promised to stay away from. Only sorceress Ingrith may reverse the curse or happen to know how,"

A beat of silence wrapped them both after Rohesia's candor. Geralt's mouth forming a deeper scowl than ever as he loudly sighed, languidly blinking in weary for being tricked by the sorceress and her right hand, Tybalt of Touissant. His jaw began to clench for who stood outside of the house, the higher vampire making him mad for leading him on circles---the cycle wouldn't have ended if he chose to go forth with his suggested path. It was why he was trying to lead him towards a swamp filled with monsters than the shorter route because the truth was with this rumored woman.

"Should've known."

He deeply grumbled begrudgingly, blaming himself for not thinking it through. His time wasted for you to be saved and taken out of the palace. If only he wasn't as pale as Ivory, his face would've been empurpled with fury for what they've made him appear to be---an idiot or for whatever bullshit they can call him.

"You're coming with me..." Geralt deeply said before he was cut off to her introduction of name.

"The name's Rohesia, Witcher."

He nodded back to the lady, going on with his ceased sentence with solicit, "---Back to the castle,"

Rohesia saw him walk closer to her, face to face with the infamous butcher she has heard tales about. The butcher of Blaviken who has managed to slaughter goons of Princess Renfri's hooligans and also earning another moniker of being a butcher of Ard Carraigh. Kaedwen's capital. The name would eventually spread throughout his kind because of how Kaer Morhen was close by. Her eyes catching onto the badge latched on the rain-guard of his sword.

"I have been told to never step foot again or I shall be put into death,"

"Do I need to beg for your compliance and offer protection?"

"What's in it for you and me?"

The witcher deeply sighed, shifting his amber away from her as Geralt looked withdrawn, his next words sounding like a mumble, dubious of his own bluntness. Disbelieving that he could hear his own voice say the words like an echo of his consciousness.

"You get to save the castle from anguish," pause. "---and you get to save the life of someone dear to me,"

"A woman I assume---your woman," Rohesia sounded so surprised, staring him down in incredulity, "---Is she royal? another sorceress too? a mutant?"

"A mere...mortal," he hesitated to honestly say, his eyes filled with a memory he truly can't forget. Your skeptical voice stuck inside his head when he remembered the first time he met you till the moment you told him how you suited to be a queen.

Geralt clearly remembered his reaction and teasing reply. Telling you how you suited more to be called a midget. His midget. Yet, now you were being treated like his queen where he would kiss the ground you walk on no matter how in denial he gets.

"---Perhaps...a queen to her kingdom in her rightful dimension," he was caught in his train of thoughts, never seeing the stupefaction in Rohesia's eyes over what dimension he meant---having no clue for his words. She could see what Vesemir once was like until life has ruined everything for her, including the sorceress corrupting and controlling the people and castle of Kaedwen.

"Learning to love doesn't suit your kind, Witcher."

"It's because it isn't what you think it is."

Rohesia shook her head for his lies, he was thoroughly unaware of the feelings sipping through his words once he mentioned you. This witcher believed that he wasn't capable to love nor emit feelings just like how her previous lover have been. A typical characteristic of his own kind. Denial and the feeling of being unworthy of recognizing such emotion was making him sound insensitive. But, people who could read others can see through him regardless of how he tries not to, "Deny it all you want. To us humans, it is. Love as many people assume."

"---you're still human after all. As far as I believe for your kind, Geralt of Rivia. Sorceress Ingrith might be glad to see me again soon---I hope."

Don’t hesitate to message me if you don’t want to be included in the taglist anymore, bb’s. I won’t be mad. Thank you. 

Taglist for WOTN: (Strikethrough means your blog can’t be tagged. Please check your settings) @alyxkbrl​​ @himarisolace​​ @barkingbullfrog​​ @ayamenimthiriel​​ @hellodevilslittlesister @turkish276​ @spookypeachx @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us​​ @nympeth​ @amirahiddleston​​ @gabethelobster​​ @dreaming-about-fanfictions​​ @uncoolcloudyhead​​ @melaninstylezz​​ @psychosupernaturalhero​​ @missjenniferb @dance-dreamer​​​​ @marvelousell​​​​​ @kingniazx​​​​​ @angelias134​​​​​ @tapismyforte​​​​​ @chook007​​​​​ @butterpumpkinscotch​​​​ @deadlydemon​​​​ @cheesecakeisapie​​​​ @angelofthor​​​​​ @carrieannewaywardson, @plantingmum, @stuckupstucky​​​​, @shesthelastjedi​​​​, @a–1–1–3​​, @gutfucks​​​​, @raynosaurus-rex​​​​, @britty443​​​​, @suhke3​​​​, @shadowclawstudio88​​​​, @ruthoakenshield​​​​, @just-a-sad-donut​​​​, @gxrdenr0se, @singeramg​​​​  @friendlyneighbourhoodweirdo​​​, @alexwinchester23​​​, @naturalthrone22​​ @supernaturallover2002​, @tellmesomethinggud​

Overall witcher taglist: @pizza-eater-i-ate-the-pizza​​​, @crazybutconfidentaf​​​​

General taglist for any Henry Cavill fics: @agniavateira​, @iloveyouyen​, @rahdaleigh​, @silverkitten547​, @henrythickcavill​, @kaatelyyynn​, @marvelousell​, @madelinelina​, @summersong69​, @raynosaurus-rex​, @fckdeusername​, @evansislife​  @nothinggoesunpunished

[godswalkwithher]

If there is a free reading left: from what can I draw / where can I find the energy to get work-related things done? Have a lovely day ✨

You got the last one! :D

My immediate joking response would normally be SPITE.

Then I drew the card, was drawn to the cackling knitting hag in the center, and my immediate more serious response is now SPITE.

The six of cups in this deck is an interesting take. It’s all about the long-term rewards of the work you are doing. There is the nun in the top right corner who has ignored her work of keeping the plant alive, so it died. The drunkard in the top right who gives attention to drink, so beer is foaming out the top of his giant stein. The wizard in the center left who has filled his owl container with scientific equipment, so has become... wise. The person in the lower left who has put time and effort into the lotus garden so that it’s become beautiful, but has forgotten self care so has starved themself into an unhealthy state. There is the old man on the bottom right who has filled his container with books, focusing on his mind until the container itself has started to crack and crumble.

And there’s the knitting hag in the right center, who is minding her knitting, with her back turned to all else, making use of a crumbled statue in order to make things obviously for other people. (Too-big socks, toys, etc.) This is the one that caught my eye.

Draw strength in knowing that your work is being noticed. Let the rest of it just pass on by without notice, as much as you can. Refuse to acknowledge where everybody else is going wrong and let them hang themselves by their own shortsightedness (especially that really smug dude who always has to be right, and likes to take credit for other people’s work). They’ll get their own. Just also be sure to make sure your needs are taken care of, too... If you’re busy constantly doing for others, you can’t do for yourself. Make sure you’re taking breaks and lunches, and not working through them. Do something small for yourself on a daily basis. It will help.

[erintoknow]

“Fine, woman, have your secrets”

more fallen hero:rebirth fanfic, set pre-Heartbreak. so, chargestep... fluff??

Julia’s pulling at your arm, dragging you after her through the apartment complex. She has this huge shit-eating grin on her face and despite your best efforts it’s hard not to feel it too. “I can’t believe you did that!” You hiss at her.

“I can’t believe I did that!” Julia comes to a stop in front of what you assume is her apartment door and pulls you into a hug.

You squirm in her arms, pushing her off you. “You’re the Marshal! You can’t punch out your boyfriend!”

“I think this technically makes him an ex-boyfriend now.” She sorts through her pockets, looking for keys.

“This isn’t a joke!”You press a hand to your temple, willing yourself to stay mad.

Ortega at last finds her keyring, slipping a finger through the metal loop and flipping the keys through the air with an entirely unneeded flourish before unlocking the door and pushing it open. “Ladies first,” she says, ushering you inside. You hesitate, glancing at her. Julia’s been trying to invite you over for ages now and you’ve always managed to wriggle your way out of it. Was this whole thing really her way of pressing the issue? No, no. Julia can be craftier then you give her credit for sometimes but well… it’s not like she’s you. You return Ortega’s grin with a nervous smile of your own and step inside. Julia follows behind you, pulling the door shut.

Julia’s apartment isn’t terribly extravagant, there’s a living space with a couch, coffee table, and TV, a kitchenette to your immediate left as you walk in. Behind the TV the massive glass window gives a view of the skyscrapers that make up the heart of the city. “Welcome home,” she says, “there’s the fridge over there,” she gestures with her free hand as she locks the door, “help yourself to whatever.”

“Um… sure, thanks.” You answer, feeling a little small. Everything looks so clean, and new, and the difference between the lives of Julia Ortega and Ariadne Becker have never felt quite so stark before.

If Julia notices your cowed reaction, she doesn’t let on. That’s either uncharacteristically polite of her or she legitimately doesn’t notice. You’re not sure which you’d prefer.

“What on earth possessed you to punch that poor man?” You stick to a safe question.

Julia avoids you gaze, walking past the kitchen counter to what you assume is her bedroom. “Don’t you worry about it,” she pauses, then adds “he had it coming anyway.”

“Doesn’t he have like…” you falter for a moment, “many dollars?”

She looks back at you, amused, then gestures at the Ranger uniform she’s wearing. “I’m going to put some normal clothes on, no peeking okay?” She laughs as if this is the funniest thing in the world and shuts the bedroom door.

You roll your eyes and bury your head in her fridge. “Wouldn’t dream of it, you old hag.”

Through the door you hear a muffled “I heard that!”

“Good! I’d hate to think an old woman like you already needs hearing aides!”

You pull a can of cheap bear out of the fridge, and then on second thought, grab another for Ortega, leaving them both out on the counter. Hanging on the wall across from you is a collection of framed photographs. Most of the faces you don’t recognize. Friends? Family? Is this what real– what normal people decorate their homes with? You can’t help but feel a little pang of jealousy. Odd, you don’t find any pictures of her boyfriend, or maybe, that’s not so strange? You don’t really know how this kind of thing works.

Her newest boyfriend is this blue-eyed blond-hair corporate sponsored hero, and like all corp heroes he looks like he came straight off the rack of central casting. The two of them met on the job, because of course, and corp-man had ideas about ways the Rangers could shore up their finances.

You’ve made a pointed effort not to learn or remember the man’s name.

Julia steps out of her bedroom, looking much more at home in a pair of slacks and a tank top. To your surprise her braid is undone, hair looking wild and free as it trails down her back. You toss her one of the beers, “Thanks,” she catches it and cracks it open.

You grab the other can and join her on the couch. “Are you going to tell me why you socked your boyfriend in the face?”

“Damian is a pendejo.”

You give Julia a look. “I’ve been telling you that for weeks. Hell, Steel of all people told you that.”

Julia groans and stares at the ceiling, “Yeah, but… I thought I could put up with it at least until the sponsorship deal was signed. But then tonight right after you left he…”

“He what, Ortega?” You press.

“Oh, you’ll just get mad if I tell you.”

You huff. “Well gee, Ortega, now I’m just mad without knowing why I’m–”

She waves a hand to cut you off. “It doesn’t matter what he said, I’m done with him.”

You sigh, the static hum of Julia’s mind betraying nothing of what went on in the entire minute between you leaving Ranger HQ and Julia bursting out after you, grabbing your arm, and yelling for you to run for it. “Fine, woman, have your secrets.”

“Thank you. I don’t want to think about that jerk right now,” She drains the rest of her beer, dropping the empty can on the coffee table. Julia makes a face like she just drank something foul. “I’m already going to have be kissing asses all week to make up for this.”

“How inconsiderate of him, really.”

“I know!”

With that line of inquiry out of the running, you let the awkward silence fill the air between the two of you. You shift in your seat to stand up, only to find Julia’s hand on your sleeve, trying to pull you back down.

“Hey, don’t go. Not yet.”

Something in her voice makes you stop, frozen in mid-rise. “Are you-“

“Pizza!” Julia pumps a fist in the air, “we should order a pizza and watch a movie!”

You sit back down.

It’s one in the morning when the credits for James Cameron’s Apollo 13 finally roll. Two empty pizza boxes lay open on the floor, and enough empty cans of beer (most of it Julia’s doing) that you don’t want to count them. The Coffee table has been pushed out of the way, against the wall so you can Julia can sit on the floor, backs against the couch like the pair of delinquent teenagers you must definitely are not.

Julia stretches her arms, arcing her back as she raises her fists into the air. “Wow, that was pretty good with the special effects and all.”

You look away from her, suddenly, painfully aware of how you don’t have any right to be here. “I can’t believe they got actual footage.”

From the corner of your eye you can see Julia giving you a strange look. “What do you mean?”

You can feel the heat in your face, instantly aware you’ve said something wrong but helpless to do anything but see it through. “The-the one scene on the moon?”

Julia stares at you for a moment longer than bursts out laughing. “It’s science-fiction you dummy!” She lightly jabs you in the arm as you sink down to the floor, face burning. “No one’s ever actually gone to the moon!” She cackles.

You can feel a knot in your gut, you’ve fucked up. You’ve fucked up and now they’ll all know. They’ll know your fraud and a liar and they’ll turn you back over and you’re going to lose everything and she’ll hate you forever and–

“Hey, hey, Ari? You okay?” Julia’s hand is on your shoulder, shaking you gently. The laughter is gone, replaced with a look of concern, and that almost scares you more.

You rub your eyes, “it’s fine, I’m fine,” you lie. You shrug off Ortega and push yourself back up right. You take the chance to get up and stretch your legs, gather up the garbage, pull your face back into a neutral expression. 

Julia stifles a yawn and runs her hands through her hair, trying to gather it into strands, but not quite getting it. “Damn,” Julia giggles, “I’m drunk as hell.”

You put on a concerned frown, eager to let things move to a new topic. “What are you trying to do?”

Julia tries to cross two handfuls of hair, “Gotta - mierda! - gotta braid my hair before I go to bed or it’ll be a mess; tomorrow’s going to be bad enough. Bunch of whiny punk-ass–” Julia descends into a stream of slurred curses in Spanish.

You take a seat on the couch as Julia tries to loop two strands of hair around a third, one slips out of her hands and she has to start over. She hisses.

You watch her struggle. “Do you need to do this right now? This is painful to watch. And maybe a little sad.”

Julia stops fussing with her hair to turn and look at you. She looks like she’s about to say something, but doesn’t. Then a sly smirk spreads across her face and Julia silently scoots on the floor over to you. “Oh yeah? You think you can do better?” She turns her back to you, resting her head on her hands. “Put that master mind of yours to work girl.” He voice is light, slightly slurred. 

You stare at the back of her head. 

A moment passes.

Then another.

Finally, Julia asks, “Uh… Ari, you still there?”

“I’m working on it!” You snap. Part of you feels like you’ll be struck by lightning if you touch her, a fear that, with the hero Charge is perhaps not entirely unjustified. “I’m just… trying to figure it out–“

“What, didn’t your mom teach you?” Her tone is light, joking, but you can’t read her mind and now with her back to you, you can’t even read your face. You feel like you’ve be stranded in a minefield. You can’t tell her this is the longest your own hair has ever been, and you absolutely can’t tell her you’ve never had a mother. You never learned this at the Farm, why would you? You weren’t playing any women roles.

Julia has this aggravating habit of pushing at the edges of your Ariadne persona without even realizing it. Now Ariadne has a favorite color, hates the rain, has a preferred taco truck, even a sense of style, if barely. All these little details you never imagined being important. You like Anathema, she gets it. Neither of you need to pry about the other in order to enjoy the other’s company.

But unlike the rest of the Rangers, Julia can never take no for answer. Never leave well enough alone. Hell, your morning routine has tripled in length now that you actually care what you face looks like, now that you have a face even. So how does Ariadne handle this? Ariadne wouldn’t be scared of touching someone else’s hair right? She fights monsters on a daily basis. 

You must have taken too long to respond because Julia’s right hand reaches back and catches your own. “Look, it’s dead easy, I’ll walk you through it.” 

And she does, letting go of your hand as she walks you through it, step by step. She is right, it is dead easy, once you have the hang of it.

You cross the lefthand strand over the middle, then the righthand over both of them.

This is just some… perfectly normal bonding thing, that perfectly normal human women do.

Left over middle, right over middle.

And you’re not some imposter, you’re just… a friend taking care of a friend.

When you finish, Julia grabs an elastic band off the coffee table and slips it on to keep the end of her braid in place. She leads back and you have to quickly shift your legs so her head doesn’t end up between your thighs. “Hey Ari?”

“Yeah?”

“Damian really sucked.”

“You don’t say,” your tone carefully diplomatic.

“And then what he called you-” You go stock still. Oblivious, Julia clenches her hand into a fist. Little blue sparks crawl out of her palm and down her arm. “I just got so mad and,” She punches the air in front of the two of you, electricity discharges from her fist to the metal rim of the coffee table with a faint zap! sound.

Julia tilts her head back up at you, her face more than a little flush. It’s too much, you have to look away. “But you know what I think?” She winks at you.

“You’re drunk, Ortega.” You caution her. Maybe if you were a real woman you would know how to handle this? How does Julia always manage to get you into the most awkward situations? Why you do you keep letting this woman keep do this to you?

Julia reaches a hand up to your face but you bat it away. “I think you’re very pretty,” she says. Something impossible snaps inside your chest.

“You’re drunk, Ortega.” You insist, suddenly feeling very tired.

[hitchell-mope]

(Third film. After “who we are”. Part two)

(Jay’s about to leave with Matty but Carlos pulls him aside)

Carlos: good morning

Jay (smirking): good morning

(They almost kiss but Matty distracts them)

Matty (disgusted): BLEAURGH

Ben (sensing trouble): do we have a problem here?

Matty: they’re both so old

Carlos (offended): I’m only eight years older then you, you little twerp

Matty: Still

Mal: you know what! Doug. Doug can take you to your room. Could you please take him to his room Doug ol buddy ol pal of mine. Please?

Doug (thoroughly enjoying the verbal sparring match): sure. I have experience dealing with monetarily obsessed children. C’mon kid

(They leave. Ben turns to Mal)

Ben: that. was

Mal: exhausting

Ben: but worth it

Mal: ahem if you say so.

Ben: hey bud. The elderly need to have a talk. Do you mind taking an early lunch?

Carlos (knowing full well what Ben is planning on doing): So jay, is the brunch table still open

Jay: why yes. Yes it is

(The disappear in a puff of gold smoke)

Ben (offering Mal his hand): c’mon. I wanna show you something

Mal (taking his hand, intrigued): oh really

(Elsewhere)

Celia: So this is gonna be our room?

Dizzy: for tonight. Tomorrow we’ll be at mom and dads starter castle.

Celia: for how long?

Evie: the entire summer. But, but, if you prefer. Tiana and Naveen or mama Odie have rooms ready at their homes.

Celia: hmmmmm. How long is this summer?

Evie: ...twelve weeks. Three months

Celia: you’ll do. For now

(She smiles mischievously. Dizzy crows with delight and immediately starts showing her the amenities Auradon has to offer)

Celia: Dizz, Dizzy, Dizzy. It’s ok. I think I’m gonna like it here.

(This is when “I think I’m gonna like it here” happens. At the end of which Celia bumps into a pink clad figure)

Celia: hey watch it

Audrey: I am so sorry I heard you guys

Evie: eavesdropping? I thought you’d learned your lesson by now

Audrey (face set in a kind smile but scared stiff): the halls are echoey

Evie: sure(.) Celia, this is the kings ex girlfriend

Celia: you’re that bitch that insulted Evie when she first came here

Audrey (looking terrified): mhmm

Celia: So what do you do now you’re not gonna be queen anymore

Audrey: I am in summer school because I took an impromptu spa vacation last semester during term time

Celia: why?

Dizzy: Maleficent tried to kill her at the coronation

Celia: oh yeah. I watched that. So sad you lived

(Audrey looks at Evie silently asking for a defence. Evie smiles evily)

Evie: it was oh so very sad.

Audrey: m-moving ahem on. I am princess Audrey of Auroria. And I will be your dorm advisor next school year.

Celia: is that supposed to mean anything to me

Evie: basically she’s just your glorified unpaid babysitter. Who can’t control anything you do. But you are at liberty to annoy her. There’s nothing to petty to go to her with

Audrey: well I need to sleep but

Evie: Abigail Sweet never slept when we needed her for something

(Audrey looks like she’s trying to swallow a brick)

Celia: puce is a good colour on you

Audrey (running her fingers through her hair): it’s a really dark magenta actually

Celia: wavy talking about the hair

(In the distance two voices shriek then laugh)

Evie: So the twins have seen the statue then

Audrey: here is the menu for today’s dinner

Celia: ah man. No rabbit pie.

Evie: the bolognese is just tonight’s recommendation. There’s a full buffet. And if you can’t find what you want. You can always use magic to create it.

Celia: I really like it here

(At the brunch table)

Carlos: morning gran

Jay: you have two more grandsons

Belle: hello dears. And yes Gil told me about the twins. Where are they?

Jaylos: fencing arena

Belle: aw that’s nice. Gil and Lonnie spend so much time there. It’s good to keep healthy. Unlike me.

Carlos: uh gran? It’s 11 o’clock in the morning. And you don’t smoke

Belle: I am, how do say it? Oh yes. Psyching myself up.

Jay: it’s finally happening then?

Belle: yes

Carlos: bout time if you ask me.

Belle: where is Ben. I’d like to say goodbye before I leave

Carlos: where they first met

Belle (smiling knowingly): do please tell him where I’ve gone.

Jay: of course. Want me to teleport you to the court house?

Belle: no thank you dear. I’m taking a car. Gives me time to think.

Jay: I can drive.

Belle: thank you for offering. But they’ll want to see you after if it works.

Carlos: and if it doesn’t work. She might not be ready remember

Belle: then they’ll both need you.

Elsa: queen mother. The cars here.

Belle: thank you Elsa. Are you?

Elsa: no. My daughter is expecting me

Belle: word of advice. Never marry a man who lies about resurrecting a man who attacked the both of you back from the dead.

Elsa: wasn’t planning to.

(Belle leaves)

Elsa: now boys. I see chocolate croissants and salmon bagels that are yet to be eaten. I declare a competition. Who ever finishes this food first will get the royal Arendelle chocolate fountain for the summer. I’ll referee. Sound good?

Jay: Hell yeah.

(Back in the courtyard. Ben’s used his magic to create a eatery area with a full buffet table. And a projector and film reel)

Ben: So this is a

Mal: butter bar

Ben: a butter bar? Um

Mal: context?

Ben: yes please

Mal: I was bored. And hungry. You were in a budget meeting. And Evie was annoying me. So I got a stick of butter, dipped it in cinnamon, dipped it in chocolate, deep fried in churro batter, and put peanut sprinkles on top. Magic keeps everything from melting.

Ben: that sounds absolutely disgusting. And I must try it

Mal: go ahead

Ben: I might be a decent cook, but you’re a confectionery genius

Mal: why thank you. How did our niece get on with her first transfer session?

Ben: she was great. Everyone was so great. Except

Mal: yeah?

Ben: Celia asked why you weren’t there.

Mal: ah. What did you guys say?

Ben: Carlos took care of it.

Mal: he didn’t mention my therapy did he?

Ben: no. No he didn’t

Mal: oh thank goodness. Don’t worry. I’m not, ashamed, of getting help. But it’s just that

Ben: when people you’ve not seen for a while are prone to judgement it can be a little difficult to admit your foibles

Mal: yeah. So anyway all this is very very nice. But why. Oh boy. It’s not your birthday is it?

Ben: that was two months ago. You took me to dinner at Tony’s?

Mal: right. A Thursday. It’s not my birthday is it?

Ben: you’re a month older then me

Mal: I might need to change Friday night drinks from beer to orange juice

Ben: ahhh you’re fine.

Mal: well I am half human. Not exactly pure

Ben: neither of us are.

Mal: yeah. Yeah we aren’t. So anyway. What is all this for. You can’t have missed me that much. You were only gone for twelve hours

Ben: I always miss you. But no. This is the exact same spot where we first met. A year and a half ago today.

Mal: this isn’t an anniversary. Is it?

Ben: no

Mal: oh thank god for that. I’m so sorry. That sounded cruel

Ben: that’s ok. I kinda like it when you’re a little cruel.

Mal (cackling): yeah I know. So what is that for

(She points to the film projector)

Ben: ah yes! I learned a new spell

Mal: oh yeah?

Ben: memory and dream extraction.

Mal (intrigued): continue

Ben: my dreams. And memories. About us

Mal: is that why..? The whole eatery enclosure thing

Ben: mostly because I needed food. But yeah. The occasion provides privacy. Shall I press play.

Mal: go for it. Jesus. Is that what my hair looks like from the back? And who’s speaking?

Ben: you’re hair always looks nice. And that’s me. My inner monologue

Mal: ah. And do you still have that suit?

Ben: not anymore no. I don’t think it would fit.

Mal (chuckling fondly): do you ever miss your old hair?

Ben: I’ve got purple roots because of my magic. It makes me closer to you. Why would I miss my old hair.

Mal: you’re sweet. Ah fuck.

Ben: yeah my technique is rather crude. But we got together in the end

Mal: yes. Yes we did. I tried to avoid you for so long. Because I believed you deserved better then a villain

Ben: well I’ve always been somewhat attracted to the darkness and badassery

Mal: oh the badassery is all jay. The darkness is all me. But I’m working on it. Still remember our little conversations back then

Ben: of course

(He uses magic to activate a nearby stereo. Mal shrieks in delight. This is when “as lovers go” starts. After the song)

Mal: oh my god. Omigod omigod omigod

Ben: I love you. Would you like to be my queen

(Mal tackles him in a bear, or dragon, hug)

Mal: yes. Yes yes yes. To be honest I kinda knew you had this planned

Ben: oh really?

Mal: yeah. Evie’s not been able to look at me for a month without crying. Speaking of

(She gets off of and dissolves the faux eatery revealing their friends who’ve been waiting)

Mal: C. You’ve got an official father

Carlos: YEEEEEEEEES

(He bounds up and hugs them both)

Jay (jokingly): you know if you do anything to hurt

Ben: I’m sure my magic will get to me first Jay.

Doug (more warningly but still with a smile): same goes for you Mal

Mal: Roger

(She disentangles herself from the boys)

Mal: hey. Are we filming?

Evie: I think the approved press are still here. Or at least their cameras are.

Mal: Doug buddy. Could you start rolling

Doug: sure

Mal (turning to the camera, takes a deep breath): IM ENGAGED!!!! HAHAHAHA

Evie (aside to Doug): I dunno why but I kinda thought that’d be more regal

Jay and Lonnie: it’s Mal. What did you expect

(Once Doug shuts the camera off)

Audrey: ooh ooh ooh. You can borrow my shoes.

Mal: I have bigger feet then you pal. But thank you for offering.

Chad (running up and pushing between the two friends): NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! Don’t touch her! You’re not the queen. You’re a fugly hag of a witch. Audrey’s the rightful queen. Soon everyone will see and

(Mal gives Audrey a look, Audrey nods her head, Mal wafts chad away mid sentence in a puff of smoke)

Mal: drunk, stoned or just plain tired?

Audrey: probably all three

(Elsewhere)

Gil: where mama? She should be here

Squeaky: uncle Florrie does this make Mal our auntie now?

Ben: sure does buddy. Moms at the courthouse. It’s the first of June. Dad finally stopped dragging his feet

Gil: ohhh

(End of part two)

[blackswallowtailbutterfly]

The plan is to make enough money to own a large plot of forested land, which I will plant native trees and other plants on and will otherwise allow to remain wild. The only house on said land will be my creepy, moss-covered cottage deep in the woods wherein I will make jams, jellies, tisanes, wines, beers, soups, sauces, medicines, etc.. And every time a woman or child happens upon me in my cottage or on my forays I will help them on their way with some plant or fungus that will benefit them. But not men. My very appearance will strike fear into the heart of any man who happens upon my property, accidentally or otherwise. So women and children will come to know of a helpful and friendly, if odd, old woman of the woods, and men will come to know of a cackling hag who probably eats souls.

[stormvanari]

Drunk for Revenge

Jim drank too much beer bottles. A visitor sparks an interesting conversation between the two.

__________________________________________

A lone bar in Duckburg

‘Not another drink from the sewer waters ever again. It almost poisoned me.’, Jim thought. He lend his hand, “Another bottle please.”.

“Uh-“

Jim glared daggers at the bartender, as the latter quickly gave a beer bottle for the deranged mallard on a shelf. He shakily opened the cap and drank it with hard gulps.

Ever since the McDuck Studio engulfed into flames, his career and hopes to reignite his role as Darkwing Duck, was also completely burned into pieces. On one side of his swirling thoughts in his mind, there’s no coming back. But on the other side, there is a chance to bring back his spotlight.

Though, he will execute it later.

After drinking the beer he requested, Jim’s eyes began to fizz and as his head feels numb, he slammed his chin on the bar’s surface and slept immediately.

The last thing he heard was the sound of a battlefield and the creaking of a door opening behind him.

___

Jim Starling’s Nightmare

Jim was in his movie trailer: the same Darkwing Duck posters and picture frames that hung up in the walls, the merchandise that honor his role as the Terror that Flaps in the Night, everything else that made Jim proud of his hard work. He wandered around his old trailer, admiring all of the rewards he got. Forming a weak smile, he was suddenly interrupted by the door of his trailer opening wide, leading to a dark void. Entering it, he was heavily shocked at what he entered into.

The same room where he watched the gritty DWD movie trailer.

Well, Jim’s not shocked about the trailer, he’s dismayed about his short beat-up with Drake.

Oh how much Jim hated hearing that he will get replaced.

He heard the words that he spat onto Drake, “How dare you?!....Hate being replaced!....My spotlight!”. It ached his heart when the security guards took him away.

It got worse when the scene shifted into static, now showing a fiery showdown against himself and the new Darkwing Duck.

As the sprinklers activated and Jim, now unleashing a chainsaw, flashed hues of bright green and blue on his eyes. The idiot oaf that seemed to side with that replacement gave out a speech that made Jim form a sign of remorse. Looking at the reflection of the chainsaw, he can’t believe that he took his plan too far. When the explosion happened, his aching grew worse. News of his death flashed on digital screens everywhere, as Jim winced at the sight of this. As the scene turns pitch-black, he began to squirm around, hoping to wake himself up.

___

The Real World

“Enjoyed your nightmare?”

Jim shot out from the bar’s surface, with heavy breathing, as he located the voice to a sorceress on his left. He wiped a strange-colored liquid that drooled on his lip and snapped, “Did you create that nightmare for me on purpose?!”. The sorceress snickered and fiddled with an empty beer bottle, which was dripping with an oozing and sage color, “I want to test out a new potion I developed. I’m trying to find a way to exact revenge on my sworn and accursed enemies, the McDuck family! So, I opened your mouth and poured the liquid in, while you slept. You’re the first victim.”.

“Hold up: are you Magica de Spell? The one who once caused shadowy mayhem on this city? Your name popped up in the news, after your attack.”

The sorceress, who was the infamous Magica de Spell, cackled, “HAHA! You are correct! I am indeed, the mystifying Magica de Spell! Sworn enemy of the McDuck-“

“Ok, get to the point old hag. I know that already.”

“Shut up, you fool!”

Explosions and the sounds of laser guns erupted behind them, as the duo felt oblivious by the sounds of a battlefield. Magica drummed her fingers on the bar, “So...who are you?”. Jim snapped his fingers for the bartender to arrive with another beer bottle(since the former knows that Jim needs another drink), “Jim Starling! How in the world can you not recognize a ducking popular celebrity-“.

“Interesting. You seemed worn-out as an actor.”

Jim opened the lid of the bottle, “Do not make me start.”. Magica switched topics as she observed the celebrity gulping down the drink, “How many beer bottles have you drunk? You can get easily drunk, from what I heard.”. Jim slammed the bottle on the bar table, “Tons to make me forget that burning sensation I had.”.

“Burning sensation?”

Jim immediately fell silent at the phrase he said, as he took another gulp. Magica looked outside the window of the bar as lasers thundered down onto the city of Duckburg, “Say....you know that the planet is currently under attack by lunatics, right?”, she inquired.

“Nope. I’ve been busy.”

“Busy with what?”

Jim formed a smirk as hypnotic blue and green colors flashed on his eyes, “A plan to take revenge on my replacement.”. Magica’s eyes gleamed a bright yellow, “Revenge? Oh, I can start that. Do tell about this....plan.”. As Jim explained his master plan to take out his replacement, Drake Mallard, Magica has also told her story of how she and her ancestors have a bloody grudge against the McDuck Clan. With the saying of their most hatred, they began to spill out smacks to each other, much to the dismay of the beer’s drunk effects.

In fact, Jim enjoyed cursing about Drake. Those swear words that blurt out from his mouth made him feel better, despite the anger that boils in him.

A loud explosion interrupted the two, as they both looked outside to see a golden ship crashing into a stout building far from them. More lasers thundered down onto the city, as more civilians fought back strange-looking aliens. Jim swiped the bottle aside and clasped his hands together, “Say, have you ever teamed up with someone?”. The sorceress huffed at the idea of team-up, “Once. It failed.”. Jim let out a loud burp, “Let me guess, your leader was an idiot. Or was it the other members of your so-called group?”.

“Both.”

Jim nodded in approval as Magica raised a final question, “And why’s that?”. The former actor raised a brow, “Perhaps you’re looking for a better teammate to handle? Maybe...a group leader?”. Magica hesitated for a moment.

I’m not sure if I can trust this guy. The way how he interrupted my introduction and how he loses eye contact when I talk to him? This duck thinks he’s better than me. He looks like the independent type. But...maybe this plan could involve me. If that’s what he’s aiming for first. If only if he can respect me more, than I could immediately accept his request.

Magica wipes off the liquid that was on her fingerless gloves, “...Hmmm. If you can handle me more, then I would accept your request. I hope you’re a better leader than that fat oaf, Glomgold.”. Jim leapt off from his seat and entered the door. Before opening the door for Magica, he looked around to see if there are anymore more chaos zooming around in the city.

Apparently, the sounds of explosions and lasers faded away from their area. Not a single and strange alien either.

Jim opened the door wide for Magica, “After you, de Spell.”. Magica felt odd by the former actor’s sudden sweetness.

“By the way Magica.”

“Yes?”

“Never. Pour that unindentified liquid in my mouth. Ever. I drank too much sewer water lately, and I came here to drink something better.”

[animebw]

Binge-Watching: Gintama, Episodes 296-299

In which I appreciate the finer details, everybody loves Kagura as much as I do, and we find ourselves on the cusp of history.

Antici.....pation

You can tell a lot about a show from how it handles the details. Pretty much every piece of entertainment will put their best foot forward when the big moments roll around. The climactic fights, the big confessions, the sweeping wide shots, the moments that stick most firmly in your mind once you’ve finished watching; everyone knows how important those are to nail, because flubbing your most critical moments means damaging the emotional stakes your audience has invested in you. But it takes real talent to give equal attention to the quiet moments, the incidental ramblings, the assorted bricabrac that few people will remember as strongly, but form the foundation upon which the big moments can really shine. Stories are built from the entire experience of watching them unfold, and the moments that suck you into the action before the fireworks are just as critical, if not more so, than the fireworks themselves. And it’s the attention paid to those details that separate a good story from a great one.

I bring this all up because while Gintama has always had an utterly fantastic handle over the minutia of its own sprawling universe and craft, the level of comedic precision on display in this batch of episodes is really something to behold. Timing is one of the most frustrating parts of writing for comedy, because it’s so hard to tell if you spaced the setup and punchline well enough until the joke is actually told, and by then it’s too late to go back and fix it if you were off by a couple centimeters. But when it’s there, it’s there, and the jokes in this stretch of episodes are about as perfectly punchy as Gintama has ever been. There’s just so much goddamn panache to how briskly it tosses out absurdities and quips, each one following so quickly on the heels of the setup that you barely have time to catch your breath before getting sucker-punched all over again. Literally five goddamn seconds into the first episode, and Kagura’s done-with-this-shit heat exhaustion face had me in stitches from the sheer suddenness of its existence. Or how about when Gintoki spills the ink over his manga page, and he spends a half minute of barely repressed silent horror trying to cover his mistake, only making it worse in the process? Or the escalating series of po-faced failures trying to repair a pair of legendary swords ( ”So this is the legendary jackknife...” ”WE’RE BACK TO SQUARE ONE!!!”)? Or Gintoki’s pithy comment ”Does gender even apply to hags?” instantly resulting in a beer bottle to the back of his head like it was spring-loaded in advance? This show is so goddamn in tune with the beat of its own drum that it can barrel breakneck through a slew of these gags in a row without breaking a sweat, and they all left me cackling on the floor. Beyond the explosive emotionality of its bigger arcs and the legendary character writing, Gintama is a show that 100% knows what it’s doing and how to do it, and that sentiment is clear in every single masterful stroke of its pen, no matter how small.

Do Androids Dream of Oil Rain?

And yes, that impeccable craft extends to the emotional moments as well as the comedic ones. It’s kind of funny to think about just how awe-inspiring Gintama’s larger arcs get, how much they turn my brain into complete and utter mush through sheer force of will, and yet my favorite individual episode in the whole goddamn show is still that 10-minute, almost wordless story of Kagura and her umbrella almost 200 episodes ago. But that’s the magic of this show: it can make the miniscule feel as titanic as the massive, just through how much it gets you to love these characters and care for the struggles they go through. And while Tama’s brief romance with a vending machine isn’t as instantly iconic as that utter tearjerker, it still comes from that same ethos, and packs just as potent an emotional punch. There’s always been something quietly tragic about Tama, how her machine brain’s logical, process-and-service-based thinking has made her self-sacrificing to a fault. She’s had to start from ground zero in terms of figuring out the terms of her own life, and how much of it she’s truly willing to give to others. Her becoming friends with a seemingly animate vending machine is proof both of just how far she’s come and how far she may have left to go; she’s able to empathize with these beings built to serve humans and approach them on terms that put them on equal footing, yet she still struggles with making connections outside that group. Plenty of stories have tangled with the idea of robotic autonomy before, but I’ve never seen a story consider the electric sheep conundrum with as much empathy as this one, with this much respect and love for what the robots themselves may truly desire.

And watching this wonderful, heartfelt mechanical soul grapple with that question, trying to give this worn out service machine a second chance at life on its own terms, makes for the kind of quietly poignant storytelling that has no right being as touching as it ends up being. I mean, this is a goddamn vending machine that cries cigarette packets out of nonexistent eyes that it shatters into its glass anew every time they start flowing again. That’s so ridiculous on its face, and yet it works. Because we trust Tama, and because she puts her faith in this machine’s right to be seen as a person, we put our faith in it too. We want to believe, like she does, that people, whether made of flesh or otherwise, have worth just by existing and providing company when you take shelter from the rain. We want to believe that life is worth that compassion, even if that life is a goddamn vending machine. I didn’t cry by the end, but my heart definitely felt a little more tender than when it started. Tama, you’re amazing. And I hope you find the peace you’re searching for.

Everybody Loves Kagura

But as much praise as I can heap on Tama and the fantastic perspective she brings to the narrative... yeah, you know the drill at this point. Kagura. Motherfucking Kagura, man. Every. Single. God. Damn. TIME. She’s on screen just rockets her further and further ahead of everyone else in my list of favorite Gintama characters. And my god, the way her character becomes the lynchpin of a two-epsiode mini arc where she fakes sickness to guilt her friends into showing more care to her might be the most ingenious meat use of her character yet. Seriously, think about it for a second; the entire basis of this arc is that Kagura wants everybody to be so distressed by the idea of her potentially dying that they never take her for granted again. The whole point is that this arc is reminding you just how goddamn important Kagura is by showing how the possibility of her absence utterly destroys literally everyone else who so much as shared a word with her in the past. Because Kagura isn’t just far and away the show’s best character, she’s far and away the single most unifying presence among the entire fucking cast. Everybody, myself included, loves this girl to death, so what better way to not-so-subtly remind the audience not to take her for granted than by forcing the characters themselves, however briefly, to confront how much she means to them in turn?

And sweet butterscotch eggnog on a hopscotch, the way it plays out might be the single most evil tonal whiplash this show has ever pulled. Because while the knowledge that she’s gonna be okay takes the potentially sour sting off watching her “suffer” with the knowledge that it’s all according to keikaku, her family and friends honest-to-god believe they’re watching the light of their lives die before their eyes. It forces you to see Gintoki, Shinpachi, Otose, and all the rest react as if they truly believe they’re about to lose her. And it. Pulls. No. Goddamn. Punches. Even once you find out she’s faking it, these episodes hurt. For the entire time Kagura was in the hospital, I was stuck in a constant gulf between wanting to laugh and wanting to cry. I have never seen the Odd Jobs crew this horrified, this hopeless, this desperate to deny the reality they see in front of them. Let’s not mince words: we are watching Gintoki as he is grappling with the fact that his daughter might be mere hours from death and it’s all his fault. And the show fully commits to that darkness. Even as insane as his attempts to keep her happy get (”You were so fast you went to a store in the future?!”), it all so clearly comes from being terrified for her well-being and caring so fucking much about her and wanting to do right by her and have faith that she’ll carry through because ”Kagura’s not the type to lose to mere sunlight!” even though he’s scared as hell and trying to run from every voice screaming in his head that there’s nothing he can do and JESUS MARY AND JOSEPH MY HEART IS BREAKING IN A MILLION PIECES FOR HIM

*ahem*

Because that’s the beautiful, achingly sincere truth behind Kagura’s ill-considered attempt to trick her friends into caring about her: they already did. They all care about her so. Fucking. Much. They care about her so much that Otae easily puts her distrust of Kondo aside to try and save her at a critical moment (”They usually mix like oil and water, why are they cooperating now of all times?!”). They care about her so much that Katsura and Hijikata let their feud settle for another day if it means doing right by her in death. Even motherfucking Okita, the sadist to end all sadists who drags her into funeral hell in the first place, who has sparred with her and fought with her since they first met, shows the kind of heartwrenching faith in her that can’t be written off as mere acting (”She ain’t gonna die until we settle things between us”). As cliche as it may sound, Kagura is the glue that brings every single goddamn person in Edo together with her unflinching, uncompromising, unapologetic sincerity, forging connections with everyone from Okita to Katsura long before those disparate factions ever considered fighting on the same side. She didn’t need to scare them into fearing for her life; everyone would happily die for her already. They’ll all stand by her side any day of the week, ready to face whatever challenge awaits with this blisteringly beautiful light by their side. And I’m so fucking happy she recognizes that truth now, because she deserves nothing but the best this world can offer her.

So thank you again, Kagura. Thank you for being as wonderfully, undeniably you as you are. Thank you for all the warmth you continue to share with me. God knows, I’ll be holding onto that light with all my strength from now on.

Because we’re about to dive headfirst into the darkness like never before.

INTO THE ABYSS MOTHERFUCKERS

Yes indeed, folks, I’ve been paying attention. I’ve been watching this season’s expanded playing field grumble with an increasing tremor all throughout the season. I’ve been watching massive factions and players being set into motion every couple of episodes. I’ve been watching the world of Gintama collectively hold its breath as the epic scale of its current scope beats louder and louder like a tell-tale heart buried beneath the floorboards barely nailed in place after the bloodshed of the Pinky Promise arc. I’ve been watching the demonic Takasugi grow increasingly involved in the increasingly chaotic arcs of this season, the Black Beast of Vengeance’s gleaming eye burning like never before. This entire season has been one long build the likes of which Gintama has never seen before, a massive storm of galactic proportions brewing in the background.

And now, it’s time for that storm to break. Because from the hushed whispers of the Crunchyroll comments section, your own barely contained excitement in the reblogs, and a chilling teaser at the end of episode 297, it’s time for the Shogun Assassination arc. It’s time for what appears to be a level of sheer, utter Ragnarok the likes of which not even Yoshiwara in Flames could possibly prepare me for. To put that in perspective, Yoshiwara in Flames, still my favorite arc of the entire series thus far, has also been its longest at a staggering 8 episodes of utter insanity, heartbreak, catharsis, and tears. And now, we’ve got two straight arcs in a row that match that length. 17 episodes. A full third of this season after the previous two thirds of setting the game board up. I have no idea what awaits me once I finally hit the 300 episode mark. I have no idea if I’ll even survive to the end. I have no idea what happens to this show once the dust has settle on whatever mythic legend is about to unfold in front of me.

All I know is that it looks like Takasugi, after over 200 episodes of skulking in the shadows, is finally going to step into the spotlight once more.

And I am not ready.

I am in no way ready to face what comes next.

But for Gintoki’s sake, for Kagura’s sake, for Shinpachi’s sake, for the sake of everyone I’ve come to care about, for the sake of all the love and faith I’ve placed in this incredible, awe-inspiring story... I must press on.

Because you are all worth fighting for.

Welcome to the abyss, my friends. Let us hope our sun can yet rise again.

Odds and Ends

-”When you run a program for too long, you’re bound to run into one or two inconvenient premises.” Heck, I even forgot that Yato were supposed to be allergic to sunlight. Thanks for clearing that up, show.

-”Was this the maternity ward?” Stone cold, lady.

-”I really did just eat too much, though.” askjdhaskdjhas

-”The pervert is still hanging from that tree, all lively!” “I wouldn’t call that lively.” THIS FUCKING EPISODE

-”Aren’t you gonna come save me?!” Hasegawa can never catch a break, huh?

-”Please open your eyes!” “THEY’RE WIDE OPEN!” Rie Kugumiya is just having a goddamn blast these episodes, and I am HERE for it.

-”I’m getting a state funeral?!” Not the craziest funeral this show’s ever had, let’s be real. Remember the ghost who stole Shinpachi and Kagura’s souls? Good times.

-”The illness you have is already ternimal.” FUCKING RIP

-”I wonder if this pain in my chest is love...” No, just Gin-san’s fist.

-”Apparently, the author, a gorilla, ran into the forest.” ffs Sorachi

-OH GODDAMMIT WHY IS THE PANTY THIEF A RETURNING CHARACTER

-I just realized that the tone he’s working with literally says “Gin-tone” at the top, and that’s such a remarkably lazy pun I have to commend it.

-”Oh, that’s not a strap?” aslkdhasjdasd

-”Smiths don’t take sides.” Excuse me, Gin-san, we literally had an entire arc about the importance of smiths taking sides. Featuring this very smithy, no less.

-”Someone call the police!” “I am the police.” Somehow, this joke never gets old.

Thank you all for everything you’ve given me. On both sides of the screen. And I’ll see you for the big 3-double-oh... next time.

[azwoodbomb]

What’s Your Story, or “The Myriad Merry Mugs of Mollymauk”

“So,” the pale barbarian asks in a voice that betrays no interest whatsoever, “what’s your story?”

“Well,” he says solemnly, eyes focusing on the distance, “that’s a tale as tall as time, but I’ll tell you the tail end.”

SAREN-RYE: 1 ounce apple brandy, 8 ounces pale ale, a dash of simple syrup. Great for those long, dry journeys.

Wide eyes stare from small faces as the cards dance between his hands and his jeweled horns jingle in the breeze. The kids crowd closer as he starts to speak.

“Down deep beneath the waves there’s a kingdom of crustaceans whose people find our flesh as sweet as we do theirs...”

The kids coil back in horror, then scuttle closer.

“...The next night, just as it seemed the war would continue, a great pearl washed up on the beach. And out stepped a sign from the gods, a creature neither crab nor man but a bit of both. And that creature was me.”

The kids stare, then snicker, then keel over.

RAVENS IN THE AFTERNOON: Pour one jigger of absinthe into a champagne glass. Add iced champagne until it attains the proper opalescent milkiness. Drink three to five of these slowly.

The gap-toothed halfling walking beside him on the road grins encouragingly up at him.

“My childhood was a truly blessed time. It was just me and my parents living at their eccentric employer’s mansion. It was always warm and in the streets outside there were always people singing...”

He takes a swig from his flask.

“...And just after summoning me to this dreary plane, without so much as an explanation, the old coot clutches his heart and drops. I’ve been wandering this desolate land ever since, making people sing to remind me of home, hoping against hope I can one day return to my family in the nine hells.”

The halfling has suddenly picked up the pace.

THE DAINTY SLAAD: 1 ½ ounces gin, ½ ounce lime juice, ½ cup ginger beer, 3 drops of jungle frog poison. Sure to liven up any gathering.

He finishes his drink and signals for another.

“Our village was small but peaceful, apart from the dimwits who kept crowing that my mother was a witch...”

Eyelashes flutter sympathetically at him from across the table.

“...As I rushed out of the burning building I could still hear that infernal cackling over the roaring flames eating the village. The pain of horns tearing through my skull brought me to my knees and as just as I was passing out I looked up to see my mother flying off on a broom, a murder of crows following after.”

Arms coil around him comfortingly.

HALF’NLING: Half stout beer, half light.

He flips a coin behind him, hears it bounce off the bar and a glass before settling loudly on the counter amid a stream of profanities from the proprietor. The patrons at his table give a polite smattering of applause.  

“When she was younger, my mother was a real rebel, always getting into trouble. When it finally got too boring she ran away from home to become an adventurer. She saw all sorts of different lands, civilizations foreign and unimaginable. But the last place she visited was the most impressive. It was a magical land where the sky is solid and goldfish can fly....”

The lines of their faces are starting to blur, but it rather suits them.

“...And as I lay there with my love’s still warm body in my hands I asked whatever power would deliver me vengeance to help me hunt down the undead scourge. Something answered, all right. I could feel terrible power coursing through me, but the price I paid is plain to see.”

Their heads turn slowly to one another and it feels like the room turns with them.

KORD’S FOLLY: Five shots of rum followed by a short pause and a confused war bellow, then five shots of gin. True enthusiasts may follow up with a bar brawl.

Some of the liquid seeps out of his lips and he feels like half his face has gone numb, but he whisks a handkerchief from his sleeve with a flourish, muttering something about always being ready to pay an arm and a leg for some ankheg.

“My mentor was the most respected conjurer on the whole continent of Tal’Dorei. One day the richest man in Emon, formerly its most eligible bachelor too, arrives on our doorstep and offers a king’s ransom if my master can procure for him a specific demon, an interesting creature called an incubus. For weeks we tried, to no avail, and one day he turned to me with a frustrated look...”

He magnanimously shares his drink with the hand that reaches for his flask.

“...The stilts were powerful, too powerful. Though I towered high above those who had once pitied me it came at a cost, as I couldn’t really see where I was stepping. The damage to the city was extensive, and I later learned I had trampled a guard who attempted to apprehend me. I ran off to the hills, where I met this weird hag, who offered me facial reconstruction in return for the stilts. I’ve been on the run ever since.”

His eyes focus and the table is empty.

BARD: 1 mug of the bar’s strongest liquor, no mixing involved. Guaranteed to make all music better.

The group at his table looks kind of young to be drinking, but judgement is for civil servants.

“The deserted village had been built on top of an ancient burial ground, everyone we’d met had warned us it was foolish to stop there, but we’d been on the run for so long we just had to stop...”

They lean in as his voice goes low as he struggles with the memories.

“...And finally, after many twisted nights of pleasure, my body began to change. My lady was gone and all there remained was pain. The town cleric said the contagion spreading over my body was because of the way I acted, how I had hurt everyone who loved me. But I think it just spread through bodily fluids, like most things.”

He hesitates a moment, then vigorously throws up on the table, prompting his audience to run full speed out of the bar.

MIND FLAYER: Ingredients depend on the establishment. If you have difficulty remembering your name afterwards, it qualifies.

He flips a coin behind him and is immediately rewarded with a squeak from the waitress, followed by the crashing of glass. He flips another coin at the problem and steadies himself at the table.

“I didn’t always look like this, you see. I was once a simple farm-boy, in love with a simple farm-girl. But then she came to the old abandoned farmstead up the road. My lady, bitter and tender, who came to redeem me from virtue...”

He nods along to the rhythmic beating of the half-orc trio or quintet playing the drums.

“...And shortly after her return my mother gave birth to me. She didn’t say anything to the people who threw pebbles and accused her of laying with demons. But she did tell me one day when I wouldn’t stop asking that my father was probably some sort of mystic goat-man.”

His drinking buddies notice he has stopped talking and guffaw enthusiastically.

DRAGON’S LAST BELCH: Three types of rum, lime juice, falernum, Ank’Harel bitters, Purvan anise-flavoured liquor, grenadine, a mixture of cinnamon syrup and grapefruit juice. To unleash the dragon jump to your feet, head to the dance floor and start spinning.

The bartender takes the coin and slides him another drink, with some hesitation.

“I used to be an adventurer like you. Then I took an arrow in the knee. I insisted to my friends that I could keep going, but it obviously wasn’t working out. They helped me to the nearest town and left me there. Word reached me of a famous visiting blacksmith, and I gave him all my fortune, entreating him to help me walk again. What he crafted for me was like nothing anyone had ever seen...”

He hefts his face up from the table.

“...And as I came to I felt inhuman vigour coursing through my body, and staring at me slack-jawed was the rich aristocrat. It wasn’t until a few days later, when his wife came back from her trip and I had to run into the night with all the jewels I could stuff into the pants around my ankles, that I realized what exactly had happened to me. I’ve been an infernal love machine ever since.”

The old man nods confused, then grows dim and distant as gravity gives up on the world. Molly’s eyes blink slowly, the surroundings changing every time.

“So,” he hears Yasha’s muffled voice above him as he dangles over a muscular shoulder, “your story kinda sucks.”

[thegreatnyehehe]

A Winter Veil Carol: Part 2

What an introduction that was, children! This “The Great Nyehehe” fellow sure is of an odd sort, eh? Speaking in third person, ‘Bah’-ing all the time, and hating Winter Veil! I do hope he gets his comeuppance! But haven’t I heard this story before...?

Anyways, on to the next chapter, then! I’m sure we’re past all the silliness now, and it’ll be a tried and true Winter Veil tale soon enough! Let’s see how he’s doing, then, shall we?

The Great Nyehehe awoke almost immediately after falling back to sleep, it seemed like he had only winked. Opening his eyes, he was prepared only to see the serenity of darkness. He highly doubted the ghastly ghost of a goblin he had just seen was merely an illusion, a trick of the mind or some other mortal fool trying his lousy luck bothering an evil as ancient and powerful as The Great Nyehehe. 

He lied there, stirring to get up, completely wrong. As his eyes adjusted to the bright, shining light before him and his joints ached to get himself off of the ground. Before him was a beautiful Sin’dorei with an ever-burning flit of fire hovering just above her head, dazzling blindingly in the cold December night.

“Do not be afraid. We believe the Trade Prince informed you of our visit. We are the Spirit of Winter Veil past.” gently whispered the spirit.

“Long past?” choked out The Great Nyehehe.

“Your past.”

“Why are you here, you fiery fool!?!” barked The Great Nyehehe, retaining his usual, rebellious attitude.

“Your redemption, our one.”

“The Great Nyehehe cannot be redeemed, you burning buffoon!! He is far too evil and villainous for such a goody-goody thing!! Bah!!”

“Your welfare, then. Come, hold our hand.”

“The Great Nyehehe thinks not, you burning buffoon!! Why should The Great Nyehehe do anything you say!?! Because of your lousy lights and smoke and mirrors!?! Because of your foolish mortal trickery!?!” barked Nyeh as he stepped back, despising physical contact with others.

“Because.” the spirit answered simply.

“Because what!?!”

“Why, because you shall.” whispered the spirit as she swiftly and forcefully took his hand in hers, to The Great Nyehehe’s surprise. In a moment, there was another bright flash, almost blindingly so, and The Great Nyehehe was whisked away. A swirling sensation overtook him, like he was being sucked down a shower drain, and the Great Nyehehe was elsewhere.

The Great Nyehehe stumbled back a foot or two, trying to gain his composure. He found himself hiding behind a Winter Veil tree, an unpleasant array of half-broken machines, a large table covered in stale Pandarian food, a single pie, and a checkered cloth, and two more goblins of pickled green skin.  

The larger of the two was jabbering of something, with a rather tasty-looking cookie in one hand.  “Happy Winter Veil, Jastor! Oh, I got you this cookie from the Sugarpack Bakery! I know we usually can’t afford more than one of these a year, but I sold almost two of my inventions this year! Why not splurge a little?”

“Oh, wow! I can’t believe it, Pops!” gasped the young Gallywix sincerely.

“I can’t either, son! Now, let me just hand this cookie to you and…” 

The cookie was sent flinging through the home and out of the window due to the explosion’s far reach. Miraculously, no goblins were harmed in the making of this story. “Ach! The cookie! The Blastberry Pie must have malfunctioned! Not again!” cried the father, Luzik Gallywix.

“The Great Nyehehe, turning away from the whole spectacle to the spirit, inquired “What is this foolishness!?! He never even wanted to come here!! Or anywhere with you, you fiery fool!! The Great Nyehehe doesn’t even know these mortals!!”

“Oh, right. We forgot that you are not the one known as Jastor Gallywix. We had a whole presentation set up for it, our one. We suppose you won’t be seeing Nessa, then. Just a moment, please” The spirit took a moment to stare off into space, seemingly thinking or even searching, much to The Great Nyehehe’s dismay and grumbling remarks.

“Oh!” giggled the spirit suddenly, cutting the relative silence, “This is a good one.”  

“Nyeh? What related to The Great Nyehehe could ever be ‘good’!?! Bah!!”

“Hmm? Oh, sure, our one. Come, take our hand.” remarked the spirit, who seemed to still be paying only a marginal amount of attention to Nyeh. 

“Again!?! The Great Nyehehe shan’t go through that swirly sensation ever again!! Bah!!”

As the goblins mourned their loss of such a scrumptious baked good as a Sugarpack cookie, the spirit sighed, and swiftly forced her hand upon his. With a resistant “Bah!!” echoing through The Great Nyehehe’s mind as he again was subject to a bright flash and that funny, nauseating feeling once more of swirling down into something. He was, again, elsewhere somewhere slightly more familiar.

Perched on the rim of an Old Town roof, Nyeh fumbled about once again recuperating, nearly tipping off onto the street. “Nyeh? Where are we? Back in that stupendously stupid city of Stormwind?”

“You must mean ‘when are we’, our one, for though we have returned to the city, we aren’t in your time anymore. Neither were we when we in the child Gallywix’s humble abode. Nay, this was one year ago, during Winter Veil.”

“Drat. Now The Great Nyehehe has to experience Winter Veil twice in the same dratted year!! Bah!!”

Non-too-sneakily scampering across came The Great Nyehehe, donned in a Father Winter hat and an empty sack in his heinous hand. But The Great Nyehehe is right there, next to the spirit! 

Similarly befuddled, The Great Nyehehe gazed, his mouth open agape, at his own self forcing his way down the chimney with a cacophonous cackle. “Is The Great Nyehehe...?” 

The spirit giggled lightly, “Confused, our one? Why, yes, that really is you. You from an earlier time.”

“The Great Nyehehe knows that!! He’s had dealings with gnomish timewarpers before, he was merely about to ask if ‘The Great Nyehehe was truly that devilishly handsome?’!! The obvious answer is nyes, but oh!! What a devious delight it was for The Great Nyehehe to truly see himself, he’ll give you that, spirit.”

The spirit shook her head, allowing herself a soft sigh, and she took Nyeh’s hand once more. Another bright flash and another, slightly subdued, nauseating feeling later, and the two were down the chimney and inside the house, looking upon a scene of an elderly gnome repeatedly kicking a battered and bruised Nyeh’s shins and a fallen Winter Veil Tree.

“Oh, Bah!! The Great Nyehehe remembers this night!! How he hates that half-height old hag for thwarting The Great Nyehehe’s evil scheme of stealing Winter Veil to replace it with his own heinous, The Great Nyehehe-celebrating holiday!! And after all his plotting, sneaking, and knitting he had to do!! He even had to dress up as that foolish Father Winter Veil, and all for naught!! Curse her name, whatever it is!! Drat, drat, and double drat!!”

“You remember this night well, our one.”

“If only The Great Nyehehe could forget!! The Great Nyehehe had to waste a whole week on devising a scheme to break out of the Stockades after those gumptious guards came!!”

“Oh, we have not seen that memory before. What happened, our one?”

“The Great Nyehehe ended up walking right out the front door.”

“You were not seen? You were not halted, our one?”

“Of course The Great Nyehehe was seen!! He was even escorted out by two of those guards!! No one had the guts to confront The Great Nyehehe!! What an ingeniusly hatched escape plan it was!! Sure to be the finest prison break of all eternities!! Nyehehe!!” cackled the old fool maliciously.

“Ah, we see. Your sentence must have been up.”

“What do you mean, you hotheaded hooligan?”

“Oh, nevermind. We can see this memory can do you no good. Let us move on, our one.”

“The Great Nyehehe loathes to say it, but he agrees!! This shan’t do any good, nor will The Great Nyehehe ever do any good himself!! Nyehehe!!”

The spirit breathed heavily, her hand placed firmly on her face out of annoyance, in an effort to regain her patience. She took hands with her unwilling companion again, and as the elderly gnome continued her roaring and kicking and The Great Nyehehe’s double failed to cease his hollering in pain, there was another bright flash, another feeling. 

The slight chill of an old crone’s lonely abode morphed into that of a warm hearth’s embrace, with the intoxicating smell of ale and the bold sound of the cheers and chuckles of Dwarves filling the air coming with it. It was the Ironstout Winter Veil party in the Cask ‘N Anvil! Dwarves and gnomes were having a dandy old time in their Ironforge inn, but The Great Nyehehe was only seen peering down disapprovingly from the top of the stairs, sulking.

“Oi, Nyeh!” shouted Modarin, the proprietor of the establishment, to the stand offish Nyeh up the stairs, “Come an’ git yerself a pint b‘fore the keg’s gone drier than Halflan’s sense ‘o humor! Har har!” 

“The Great Nyehehe will drink your dratted dribble only once every darned dwarf in the whole of Khaz Modan is six-weeks sober and clean shaven!! Bah!!” snapped back the Nyeh on the stairs.

“Could’ve jus’ gave us a simple ‘nah,’ lad! No reason teh get so grumpeh ‘bout et, ‘s Winter Veil after all, lad!” shrugged Modarin as he turned back to his fellow celebrators. The Great Nyehehe muttered to himself as he slinked even farther away from the party.

“Oh, drat. That bunch of blasted, burrowing, bearded buffoons bellowing of beer and bourbon!! What are we doing here, spirit!?!” lamented the true Nyeh.

“You don’t care for alcohol, we had forgotten. Perhaps this memory of last year’s December Moot wasn’t the best of options for your welfare. Even still, perhaps you could have had a pleasant chat with one of them, then, our one? Met somebody?”

“The Great Nyehehe has already met all the individuals he ever wished to meet, and an incredible amount more. And ‘a pleasant chat’ with a bunch of these mountain-loving morons!?! Bah!! Impossible!!”

“You do think awful highly of yourself, don’t you?”

“Nyes, The Great Nyehehe does, and why shouldn’t he!?! He’s the most evil and powerful, not to mention fashionable, being in the universe!! Obviously!! All are beneath his vile villainousness!! ” 

“Is that so, our one? Hmmm...” inquired the spirit  stared off into space again, seemingly searching. “Ah, yes. That’s it.... Oh! That memory ought to be especially eye-opening!” 

“Nyeh? What do you me-” started Nyeh, until he was interrupted by the spirit’s lofty giggle and her placing her hand on his. The dwarves continued cavorting and chugging their ales, but The Great Nyehehe and the spirit were again elsewhere, somewhere very, very hot.“Ah, now this memory should do nicely. This was about nine years ago, if our one recalls.” pointed out the spirit, proud of herself. The old fool gasped in shock, his eyes nearly popping out of their sockets, horrified of his surroundings. Spidery, insectoid limbs were stabbing the air, the shifting sands of Silithus blew into his face, a constant, droning buzzing from somewhere not-too-distant was always heard.  He turned his head this way and that frantically, fretfully, until he noticed three hooded figures whacking away at a cluster of sickly teal ores ceaselessly. 

“Me back hurts. Me wanna go home for Winter Veil.” moaned the Orcish peon sorrowfully, rubbing at his strained back.

“Shut your trap, Agtar!!” hoarsely whispered the younger-looking Nyeh adorned in cultist’s robes, “Farthing’ll hear you complaining, and we’ll all suffer for it!!”

“Get back to work, you miserable cretins! Lest you desire the grand honor of being sacrificed to our all-powerful masters!”

“Sorreh, sir!” “P-Please forgive us!!” “Zug zug!”

 “Agtar,   Dithna, that’s your third warning! There won’t be another!! And you, with the stache!! This is your second!”

“B-But I never even got my first warning, sir!”

“Talking back to a superior leader within the Twilight’s Hammer!?! That’s your third warning, stringbean!! Go ahead and I’ll have your head on a Qiraji’s silver platter!”

The Great Nyehehe turned away from the pathetic scene as his younger self cowered and whimpered, mortified, fumbling and tripping over himself to get as far away from the scene as possible. Muttering and wheezing, he was halted when the spirit had appeared right in front of him through another bright flash.

“Why do you run from progress, our one?”

“P-Progress!?! You fiery fool, what could you possibly think this is progressing other than your chances  of The Great Nyehehe obliterating you a nyehehillion times over!?!” roared the madman in between bursts of wheezing harshly.

“Progress to your redemption, our one. You must see the errors of your ways, what has molded you into what you remain as now. It is crucial to your welfare, of course. Is seeing yourself as what you are and what you were not sparking any feelings for you, our one?” explained the spirit.

“At the moment? The Great Nyehehe feels only of a burning hatred for you for bringing him to this accursed place!! Bah!!”

“I see. Progress has been made, then.” giggled the spirit loftily, “Come, only one more memory, our one.”

“Nyet!! No more of these moronic memories!! The Great Nyehehe is going back to his Evil Lair, even if he has to walk all the way back!!”

The spirit grunted, and tried once more to touch Nyeh’s hand, but he was quicker, and recoiled just in time to pull himself far enough away from her. “Begone, you burning buffoon!! Begone!!” he shouted as he swiftly backed away from her. The spirit giggled once more, almost hauntingly, and levitated higher, then swooping down to clutch The Great Nyehehe’s comically large, pointy nose with both of her hands. 

There was a final bright flash, and one last sickly sensation of swirling. Though The Great Nyehehe had just started almost getting used to the feeling, it felt far more nauseating than even the first time. He felt almost like puking, and what he saw when he regained his senses only enhanced its likelihood.

Two relaxed figures sat in sturdy wooden chairs, facing a flickering fire.

“Do you suppose Beatrice will read that book we got her, dear? Do you think she’ll like it?” spoke the bespectacled young man to his wife dreamily. 

“The one on those magics, hon? Are you still expecting her to be conjuring charms and hexing the neighbours by Noblegarden?” chuckled the woman teasingly. 

“I just know she’s got it in her! She’d make a great mage, don’t you know? I’m sure she could at least summon a spark of fire or something, dear, even if I never could." sighed the man.

“Oh, hon, you and your thing with magicks!” giggled the woman.

“Would you prefer her to hunt and trap for a living, like you and your brother?” 

“Why not? Braun’s doing fine with those damned dogs of his, and the Crusade pays well. Speaking of that all, what about the Crusade?”

“What about it?”

“Well, I’m sure we can set something up for her to work as a Squire at the monastery, Har-”

“Oh, enough of that, dear!” he interrupted, “It’s Winter Veil, maybe not the best time to discuss someone else’s future. Let’s go and make some hot cocoa!” 

“A lovely idea, hon!” cheered the woman as the two sat up to leave the room, jabbering and chuckling as he opened the rotting door.

Meanwhile, The Great Nyehehe had huddled himself in the corner farthest away from the two out of great distress. He slinked down, curling himself into a pathetic fetal position, covering his head. “The Great Nyehehe has had enough, spirit!! Blast it all!! Begone from The Great Nyehehe’s sight!! Begone from The Great Nyehehe’s presence!! Haunt The Great Nyehehe no longer!! Begone!!” he cried out to her, the spirit, shutting his eyes tight. He heard a soft sigh, and felt a hand on his own. There was no bright flash, no sickly sensation.

There was only the ringings of a bell, the strike of two in the morning.

[knightfury1895]

Slipping Standards

I am almost knocked completely off of my feet by one of two swaying, cackling women as they shove past Holmes and I, having staggered from a thoroughly disreputable nearby public house. Having given my shoulder a glancing blow, she then shouts a vulgar stream of obscenities and spits in my general direction even as Holmes hastily pulls me out of harm’s way.

“Beastly hag,” says he once we are safely out of earshot. “The filthy, drunken wretch of a washer woman! How dare she speak to you in such a fashion! Had she been a man, I would have flailed the hide from her! I am sure I know not what London is coming to!” His eyes soften and he slowly relaxes, forcing his breathing to slow. He turns to scrutinise me. “You are not hurt are you, Watson? I saw that she have your poor shoulder quite a blow.”

I assure him that only my pride has been hurt as we continue on our way.

We have not gone far when we see a group of men that are shamelessly eating fish and chips and drinking bottled beer in the street. The group begin to roar with laughter when one of the younger fellows belonging to it suddenly bends to the side to vomit onto the flagstone pavement.

“Truly, the moral standards of our fair city are most certainly slipping,” sniffs Holmes. “I have a mind to retire. I recall the days when only the lowest of the low would think to eat in the street like a stray cat. And as for being drunken and disorderly… And women entering a public house… What next, Watson? Argh!”

The shocked and outraged sound is uttered as we both stop and stare in spite of ourselves. There in front of us, and not making any effort to conceal what he is doing, is a rather smartly-dressed young man relieving himself into the gutter.

“What?” he demands of us as if what he is doing is perfectly respectable behaviour.

“Come, Watson,” my friend urges me, shaking the arm that his is linked through as he hastily begins to walk on.

“This is the last time - the very last - that I shall insist upon walking home after an evening out of any kind,” Holmes informs me as his shaking hands unlock our door. “The city is sickening, Watson, and it makes me positively ill in turn! I have met criminals that would not behave with such poor morals as those that we have seen tonight.”

I attempt to comfort the fellow as I pour us each a brandy. I am myself shocked by all that I have seen in the street tonight, but the reaction of my companion shocks me still more. With all that he has seen, I had expected him to take such things in his stride. However, perhaps even his sensibilities are not without their limits.

The fellow takes his glass from me and downs a good measure of it. “I shall retire,” says he with finality. “Even I cannot go on forever and I have seen all the evidence this night that the world has changed in ways that I no longer can or wish to. The higher the buildings, it seems to me, the lower the morality of those within the walls.”

“But what would you do?” What would I do? I have grown accustomed to Holmes and his cases. Surely he could not retire?

The fellow shrugs. “Find something else, I suppose.”

[fallen029]

Another Year

They used to do things. Constantly. When all of them were together. Either Bickslow and Lisanna would be dragging them out to some other town to go get drunk and cause mayhem or Evergreen would take Mira and Lisanna out, just the three of them, under the guise of being friendly, but truly to get info on their brother out of them (they were frequently breaking up and it was necessary, for some reason, for Ever to keep tabs on the man during those times) which, of course, would lead to Bickslow getting annoyed, as Lisanna was only supposed to wanna hang out with him (she felt the same way about him) and he'd just have to go spy on them, nearly every single time, sometimes making Freed tag reluctantly along or tricking Laxus into going without revealing what they were doing.

And then there was Freed's favorite thing, when he'd have them all over to his house, which really never went so well, because they were all messy and violent and just not at all conclusive to a household not getting destroyed, but he seemed to like it for some reason, fretting around the day before to get the place ready and have snacks and beverages all ready for their arrival. He enjoyed most of all the way they'd all get too drunk to leave and then Laxus would spend the night at his place and, even though it was typically in the guest bedroom and always with Mirajane in his arms, Freed could still pretend otherwise, right?

Elfman also typically got his day in the sun where he got to pick what they did, which usually consisted of having a big group training session that usually ended with someone getting mad at someone else because either Freed was too hard on Mira (Laxus' words, not either of their own), Lisanna was goofing off (or causing Bickslow to goof off) which pissed everyone off, Ever was bored, or Laxus was growling at them all about how they all sucked and were horrible mages, except for Mirajane, and then he'd start goading her to transform into a demon and show them. Show them how much more powerful she was than them all.

Oh, and one couldn't forget the elegant dinners that Mirajane tried to make them all go on. She and Laxus would dress to the nines and get them the fanciest of reservations. Then they'd wrangle their rowdy, naughty children (that's what they felt like sometimes, the others did; Mira and Laxus' children) into their own outfits. It was easy with Ever, as she was always thrilled to go out with Laxus (Mira, not so much) and Freed, though quite weary after the frequent problems they ran into, would go along with it and even attempt to help force Bickslow to put on some, at least, clean clothes, but it usually took Laxus yelling about how he'd not be allowed to go if he didn't just find some clean slacks, a decent dress shirt, and just come the hell on! Then Mira was left with her half of things, trying hard to get Elfman to realize that going out on big group dates were fun, not unmanly, and then Lisanna was just annoying and would try to wear things that had not been cleared by Mirajane as mature enough (though, at times, she had a sinking feeling Lisanna was just messing with her and actually knew that a tank top wasn't high class).

And that was just the process to getting there. They still had to all sit down and then fight over whether or not Laxus was buying dinner (he was, he always was; sometimes Mirajane just needed to remind him of this). With that finished, they then had to go through the complaints of Laxus that what they were all ordering was too much, especially Elfboy's ribs, but he'd only gripe that Ever was just getting a salad, so it evened out, but Ever was ordering wine and that was costly, but why couldn't she have wine if Mira was having wine? Because, of course, Bickslow would butt in, Mira fucks Laxus. Right? So she got wine.

Which would lead to Mirajane blushing and Laxus yelling and Lisanna insisting that, yeah, her boyfriend was kinda right, if they thought about it. Kinda like how she got to play with Bickslow's dolls whenever she wanted. Because they had sex together. And Mirajane let Laxus fuck her, so she got fancy foods and wines.

It made perfect sense.

Then Freed would try to calm everyone down by mentioning that Laxus actually slept with tons of women and they didn't get special treatment. Mira herself was special.

Which, obviously, wasn't the best way to go about things because that brought up Laxus' previous sexual endeavors and Mira never enjoyed that while Lisanna and Bickslow were laughing far too loudly and being way rowdier than they should have been, in such a high caliber of restaurant. And Elfman was gagging while Evergreen scoffed and remarked that if Laxus was going to make them all have sex with him to get things then she would be leaving right then because she did not want to be a part of whatever he was doing with Elfman and Bickslow. At all.

Freed though, she could perfectly understand.

Heh.

And, just to be clear, that was the exact situation that happened at least three of the times that Mirajane made them all go on a triple (plus Freed) date. It actually was one of the more rational and calm outings they had. Compared to the time Bickslow tried to start a food fight, Elfman flipped the table in anger over something Laxus said to him, and, of course, that once where Evergreen turned Lisanna to stone and refused to change her back until Mirajane went full Satan Soul on her (it was actually kinda Lisanna's fault; one too many old hag jokes, as it were), just arguing in the restaurant really wasn't that bad.

The thing was though, they hadn't gone to a restaurant all together in months. Literal months. And their last big group training session had been at least six months ago. And at Freed's last get together, Mira didn't show up (work), Laxus left after arriving (read upon finding out that Mirajane wasn't there), Evergreen never made plans to go (why should she), and Elfman wanted to go, but totally got told flat out by Ever that if she wasn't going, he wasn't allowed to either.

Which left Bickslow and Lisanna, who showed up and drank more than their fill of the alcohol and devoured all the food that the man had prepared for the group. Then they ditched out, after leaving a major mess, and Freed was left to clean up the mess they left behind.

And even though on their end, nothing much had changed, Lisanna still felt rather...disappointed.

Somewhere between Mirajane and Laxus getting married a couple months back and Evergreen and Elfman finally moving in with one another had changed the dynamic of all their relationships. Mirajane spent most of her time with Laxus, after their nuptials, talking up just how ready they were to try for children and, in the past month or so, he'd actually conceded. So that was their new goal in life. And Ever had finally fully accepted Elfman as her live-in (just live-in; no boyfriend attached; she wasn't that accepting), which mostly just meant that there was definitely still drama surrounding the two of them, but not nearly the same type as they once had.

Things were just...different. A solid three years had passed since Mirajane and Laxus first went on a date and forever joined the Strauss siblings with the Thunder Legion and, slowly, it appeared as if they'd all finally found their place in the group. Grown comfortable. Lost a bit of their edge.

And a hell of a lot of their fun.

"I dunno," Lisanna told Bickslow one night as they sat over at his house, him smoking and her mostly just watching the babies float around her head. "I just feel like we used to all really enjoy being together."

"We still enjoy being together,' the seith argued, glancing down at where she was seated with him on the floor in front of the couch. "Tons. Just last week, I was over at Laxus' house and Mirajane was there and it was great. It was all great."

Shaking her head slightly, the woman said, "It's just not the same. We never hang out together. All of us together."

"Oy, Lissy," he grumbled, patting her on the head. "You're bein' all weird and shit. Here. You want a beer?"

Not particularly, but it was clear that the conversation was going nowhere and, after some alcohol in her stomach, he pretty much got her off that topic. And, even though she still reflected on it at times, she knew there was nothing that could be done.

If they were all growing apart, so be it. They were still, ultimately, a family. A weird one. Extremely. But Mira and Laxus were still the head of them. And yeah, Ever and Elfman were living on the outskirts of Magnolia then, Mirajane and Laxus were hardly ever around, Freed had recently become S-Class and started taking solo jobs, and Lisanna and Bickslow were still just slumming it the same way they always did, but that was okay. That things were changing.

It just meant that they were growing. That was all. And Lisanna could live with growth. Honest, she could.

A few weeks came and went after that conversation on which Lisanna saw Mira up at the bar, Laxus when he dropped by her and Bickslow's new place (they got kicked out of the old one; apparently they meant it about that smoke free lease thing) to help them unpack, Elfman and her went on a job, Freed and Ever came by to berate the new apartment and it was all great.

Honestly.

And then, finally, the thing that she waited for literally every year (Mira kept telling her that she was starting to get so up there that, soon enough, she'd dread it far more than she enjoyed it) came. Her birthday. And Bickslow didn't even take a job the whole week, just to be sure he'd be home for it, and even baked her a cake.

"Bicks," she mumbled that morning after waking up to find it awaiting her in the kitchen. "This is...um..."

"Oh, no, yeah, I know. I fucked up on it." He was standing there in only his boxers and laughed, tongue dangling from his mouth. "I bought you one from the bakery though." Then he cackled before reaching out to poke at the...blob of something that might have been a cake, might have not been, that was covered in frosting. Lisanna was having a hard time reading the seith and wasn't so sure that what was before her actually wasn't a cake at all, but rather just a bunch of stuff shoved into a kinda square shape and then frosted.

It sounded a lot like him to do that.

Still super sweet though.

"C'mere." Bickslow was going over to the mini-fridge they had then. "Let's eat cake for breakfast!"

"Cake for breakfast!" the babies all cheered, rushing to follow. "Cake for breakfast!"

That kept them occupied for awhile as well as the present presentation in which Bickslow presented her with some new sunglasses (though she could tell that he'd actually swiped them fro Evergreen; he even told her not to wear them around the woman) and the 'babies' gave her a bottle of liquor.

"We can crack that open later, yeah?" Bickslow wagged his frosting breath tongue at her. "Lissy?"

She wasn't so sure if her birthday was so exciting for him because he was happy to share it with her, or he was just pumped he got cake, an excuse to buy expensive liquor, and a chance to steal from Evergreen.

Still though, he was super cute in his ways and she knew that they were kinda low on money, so for him to bake her a cake (or at least pretend to, maybe) and think about her enough to go and (questionably) buy her sunglasses and (him) liquor was very sweet. And when she rewarded him with a rare kiss to the cheek, he only snickered a bit as the babies each demanded one of their own.

They spent most of the morning together, but he did take off for a bit, to train eventually, which was fine. Lisanna spent some time up at the bar, hanging around with Natsu and Happy, until it was finally time to meet up with Bickslow once more that afternoon.

"I'm just a little disappointed, I guess," she sighed to him after they met up outside the hall. He was taking her out to dinner, he said, to celebrate. "Not with you, of course, but Mira and Elfman. I thought I'd at least see them at the hall and they'd tel me happy birthday or something, but… I mean, I guess it is kinda childish-"

"It's not childish." He gently knocked elbows with her. "But I'm sure your sister just had the day off and forgot. And Elfman's always got his brain all scrambled because of Ever, so-"

"I guess you're right."she sighed, gently rubbing at her arm with her other one, as if feeling awkward. "We are kinda old for birthdays anyways. Really."

"You don't gotta feel bad about feeling like someone's ignorin' ya, kid." He grinned at her as the babies circled comfortingly around her. "You don't gotta feel bad about feelin' nothin'. You can't help the way you feel." Then he paused. "Unless you feel like trying that 'Cut down on Bickslow's sugar intake' thing again, because I hated that. It was horrible."

"It was necessary."

"Yeah, a necessary evil."

"Evil," the babies sang. "Evil."

"You," she responded, "like evil."

"Not when it comes to my food, kid. No way when it comes to my food."

They fell into silence for a bit and Lisanna, who was very much so following the man, ignored the fact that they were heading further and further away from the part of town where most the shops and such were located until, finally, she just had to ask.

"Where are we going?"

"Home." He grinned over at her. "Gotta go scrape together some jewels, yeah?"

"Oh, Bicks, we don't have to go out then."

"No. I saved up for this."

"But you just said-"

"And then I bought other stuff with the jewels I saved up. But it's the thought that counts, yeah?"

Softly, Lisanna smiled as the babies flew around her, repeating his final word. To him, she only agreed, "Totally."

The closer that they got to the apartment, the more bouncy Bickslow got. Not that Lisanna took notice; the seith was constantly excitable. He was a lot like Natsu in that way. He was in constant motion. Not an ounce of potential energy existed within him.

At the apartment though, it all became clear as, upon opening the door, there they all were. Ever was staring disdainfully at the couch, refusing to sit on it, Elfman was, what looked like, staring questioningly down at the overflowing ashtray, confused as to how they could possibly have filled it up so much after only being in the place a short while, and Freed was just standing there, grinning at them as they opened the door, a huge cake in his hands that read Happy Birthday or something of the like.

Most interesting, of course, was Mirajane, who seemed to have been trying to wrangle Laxus into getting behind the couch and jumping out, as a surprise, but been caught halfway between it. At the sight of her sister, Mira still jumped pretty far in the air before rushing over to go greet her.

"What are you guys all doing-"

"Surpri- Achoo!" Mira had Laxus' fluffy coat hanging from her shoulders and used the sleeve then to wipe at her runny noise. "Ugh."

"Mirajane's sick," Laxus grumbled as Freed only stepped away from her, as if to keep the cake from being contaminated. "But she still got outta bed to come to your stupid party, so you better thank her, Lisanna."

"Laxus," Mira complained, giving him a look, but he only shrugged, still standing there, behind the couch.

He just wanted them all to know what his demon had done for them. For all of them. Constantly.

"She was gonna make the damn cake too," Laxus went on because when he got started on his demon, he couldn't stop. "But I told her no. Because she- Mira, don't sit on that."

After hugging the life out of the kinda resistant Lisanna (she loved Mira and all, but snot was snot), the woman headed over to the couch to sit down. Laxus, of course, had objections.

"Oh, Lax, you're always so-"

"I'm serious," he told his wife as she only fell back onto it. "They get all their furniture from the dump."

"Hey!" Bickslow frowned. "That's the old me, man. I have a woman now." He rubbed his knuckles against his chest. "I get my furniture from the side of the road like a decent human being."

"Regardless, Mirajane," Ever said as she stared at the woman in slight repulsion, "I would get off that before you catch something."

"It's either I sit down or I pass out," she told them simply. Snuggling the coat closer to her, she added, "And can you get me some water, Lax?"

"Of course." Before heading off to the kitchen, he finally truly addressed Lisanna. Giving her a half wave, he said simply, "Happy birthday."

"This is great!" Lisanna had bounced right over to Elfman, who was still rather concerned about the smoking habits in the apartment, to hug him a bit. "What made you guys think to-"

"Bickslow," Freed said simply, still walking around, for some reason, with the cake in his hands. Lisanna had to wonder if it was because he was fearful that Bickslow might snatch it up if he set it down. "He told us all that you wanted to have a big get together and, well, my apartment is… I rather have liked it, not being completely mangled every time we all gather and then Laxus refused to let us have it at he and Mira's-"

"You twerps already got her sick before with your nasty germs. I don't want them on the house to." The man was back with the glass of water then. "Here you go, Mirajane."

"Mmmm. Thanks."

"And then Evergreen and Elfman-"

"Real men have parties at their houses!" Elfman patted Lisanna on the back as he hugged her. "It would have been great at our place. Except-"

"I have far too many valuables to let you little- Are those my sunglasses?"

"Yes and no," Bickslow said as the woman spied them on the coffee table. "By which I mean yes, definitely, but no you can't have them back."

Ever only growled. "Bickslow-"

"So we had to have the party here," Freed finished as Lisanna only stood facing him, giggling just a bit.

"But you guys all called this place a dump when we moved in," Lisanna pointed out with a smile. "You and Ever quite vehemently said it would be the last time you stepped foot in this-"

"The things we do for family, as it were," the letter mage told her simply. "I mean, Mirajane and Laxus already had a nice, big party planned for you at a fancy dinner hall."

"W-What?"

"I invited all of our friends," Mira sighed around a sniffle. "Laxus made reservations and everything. But then Bickslow insisted-"

"I," the seith cut in, tuning out Ever and her raving then (sheesh, he was gonna give back the sunglasses eventually; Ever was so annoying), "told them that no; Lissy doesn't wanna hang out with anyone but us. The Thunder Legion and you guys. And you too, boss. Because she misses these times together. And then Laxus was like, fine, I'll cancel the reservations for the rest of them and we can still go out. And I was like, no! You were sad, after all, about how no one showed up to Freed's a few weeks ago, so a nice, close, personal house party was the only way to-"

"You dolt." Lisanna's tone and clear displeasure made everyone blink. And Mira sneeze. And then Laxus grinned, because she was just so damn cute, even when she was sick, and hell, the others wished they'd just get out of their honeymoon phase already.

"L-Lissy," Bickslow complained, the babies that were floating around stuttering her name as well. "What are you-"

"We could have hung out with these guys any time," she complained. "If we just forced the issue a bit. But Laxus was going to take us somewhere nice. Real nice, I'm sure. I wouldn't give that up just to sit around the apartment with you guys." Then she blushed, glancing around at the others. "No offense, I mean, guys, but-"

"No, I get it." Ever was still refusing to sit down and only nodded a bit, staring over at the younger woman. "Steak is steak."

"I would much rather have not been in this dank apartment, sure," Freed agreed. "But-"

"And I wish I could have eaten some ribs," Elfman agreed. "I-"

"I wouldn't have been buying you damn ribs," Laxus growled loudly. "Buy your own damn ribs and steaks! What do I look like? Huh? Your father? You ungrateful brats. You know, I plan a ncie time for us, have a cake bought, go through the motions of canceling some dinner reservations, and what do I get for it? Huh? Ungrateful children. I-"

"Lax, you're coming on a wee bit strong there," Mira said, smiling up at him. "You can just admit you'd rather sit around the apartment and hardly spend any jewels at all than take us all out to eat. We understand."

Humphing, he only crossed his arms before grumbling out, "Someone else could just fuckin' split the bill from time to time. All I'm saiyin'."

And not wanting to get stuck on that topic (at all, none of them did; they had a pretty sweet racket going with Laxus, using him to get good meals every time they all went out together; no one else wanted that burden), Bickslow just as quickly was speaking.

"Ah, Lissy, now that you put it that way, yeah, I did kinda fuck up, huh?" He hung his head a bit. "I couldda gotten 'em all over here some other way."

"No," Evergreen told him simply as she examined her recovered sunglasses for any scratches in the lenses. "You couldn't have."

"Perhaps under the threat of death," Freed offered. Then he looked down at the cake. "Oh, or Lisanna's birthday too, of course. That had been a good rouse."

"I'd come here any time!" Elfman tossed his hands up in the air. When Ever gave him a look, he corrected it to, "Only when a manly man is needed around here though."

Glancing around at them all in turn, Lisanna finally just giggled before moving to toss her arms around Bickslow and press a kiss to his lips.

"This is all I wanted," she admitted as he only grinned, tongue wagging from his mouth. "Other than, like, that fancy dinner. But really, haven't we kinda been banned from most places?"

"I use fake names on reservations now," Laxus mumbled softly as Mira giggled at his statement. "And then hope they don't recognize us."

No one wanted to point out that, honestly, they had to be the most recognizable group of all time. So long as Laxus could keep dreaming otherwise, they'd allow him.

"We love you, Lisanna," Mirajane said with a grin over to her. "Even if- Ahcoo!" Sniffle. "Even if we don't, you know, spend as much time together anymore, that doesn't mean anything. We're still a family."

"Yeah, no." Ever made a face. "We're definitely not-"

"Ever," Freed hissed. "It would mean we're related to Laxus."

Oh yeah. He always had to remind her of that fact. Grinning then, she only nodded her head.

One big dysfunctional family.

And for a moment, everything was calm. You know, until Mirajane saw a cockroach, freaked out, made Laxus yell at Bickslow about he quality of the places he was staying who pointed out in return that look at all the cool stuff he could buy though, when he payed hardly anything in rent for shitty apartments. And then Elfman accused him of not being a man and hey, that wasn't cool and Freed was trying to just keep them from knocking him over because that would ruin the cake and Mirajane wanted to help him, but she was still sorta sick and ooh, her headache was getting worse because they were all yelling so much and man, had the room always been spinning?

"Mmmm," Ever sighed as, slowly, she came to stand next to Lisanna. The woman was only watching the guys go at it with a grin as Mirajane finally conked back out to sleep off her sickness and fell onto the couch once more, that time with the intention of getting some sleep. "Here."

"What?" Lisanna frowned as Evergreen only moved to pass her sunglasses off on her. "Oh, no, Bickslow really did steal these. I think as a joke. Or he might be developing a problem. I can never really tell when he's-"

"Just take them.' The woman even let out a long sigh, as if Lisanna was putting her out or something by doing, literally, absolutely nothing. "Saves me from having to pretend like I forgot to get you a present."

Grinning, Lisanna moved to put them on, though just as quickly she was sliding them atop her head. "Thank-"

"Do not," Evergreen complained as she refused to look at the other woman, "mention it. Ever. At all. To anyone. I mean it. Stupid birthday or not."

Oh, it definitely wasn't a stupid birthday. Even though Freed, eventually, did drop the cake, Elfman and Laxus tried to beat the crap out of one another, Bickslow flipped out because, hey, now that he was thinking about it, he could have gone for a good, hot meal, and Mirajane was totally sick, Lisanna would be lying to say that, really, it didn't go exactly how she'd wanted it.

After all, when you're a a part of their family, you wouldn't have it any other way.