#Just fucking Eggplant Wizard

[maburito]

I hate these things, keeps turning me into an eggplant. Why an eggplant!? What even is that ennemy-

.......Okay that's kinda funny

[flowersforvax]

Update: I'm watching Wizards (1977) and-- it's a fucking trip

I was not prepared for the animated Evil Wizard to show his minions literal real sepia footage of nazi germany as... inspiration??? Also swastikas everywhere. I'm half an hour in. I was just made to have close-up eye contact with an elven child being traumatized by the realities of war, that was then killed off-screen. Also-

lmao eggplant ass looking sword

[transrathma]

oc interview fruits and veggies! 🍅, 🍌, 🍐, 🍆!

:3c thank you so much for asking ! gonna put these a little out of order just so there's context

kaine is my oldest oc (almost 8 years rattling around in my skull) and i love to rotate them at light speed

🍐 [PEAR] What is their current social standing? If they could change it, would they, and to what?

Kaine Silva is the only child of the sovereign House Silva of the Imperium of Valais. Their family retains its right to rule through its magical bloodline - a blue dragon that, historically, had been mutated by a wizard as a part of an attempt to ascend to godhood. Thus, its descendents - House Silva - have historically been wielders of the Imperium's most powerful magic, and they rule with kindness and temperance, which means there has been very little conflict in the ~400 years of their sovereignty. Despite being a prince in their own right, the circumstances of Kaine's birth and subsequent events mean that, in the simplest terms, their magic is unstable, and threatens their life if it's not controlled. Because of this, they were sheltered, so much so that by the time they came of age they were still not named to their people, and anyone outside of the Imperium wouldn't even know of their existence. Kaine's being a single child, a draconic sorcerer, royalty, AND an aries is a recipe for the world's most restless and impatient creature. The only change they desire to their standing is to be named, so that they might one day be able to ascend their throne in their full power.

🍅 [TOMATO] How misunderstood is your OC? In-universe or IRL.

Kaine's a bit of an enigma. They keep a lot close to their chest, and they're also incredibly hypocritical - they have very little practical experience with societies outside of the palace walls, and it makes them act in ways that are contradictory. They're not necessarily a dishonest person - except for when they need to be - but they tend to panic when they think someone might know too much about them, an ingrained feeling from having to hide for the first twenty years of their life. In this sense, any misunderstandings of their character are entirely self inflicted. On the other hand, their personality is strong, and they have strong convictions.

🍌 [BANANA] Have parts of your OC been lost to time (in-universe)? What do they wish they could lose from themselves?

If they've lost anything, they wouldn't be able to tell you. They spent most of their life feeling constricted, that now, they believe they only have room to grow. The only thing they wish they would lose is their shackles - both figuratively AND literally.

🍆 [EGGPLANT] How are they used by others? How easily are they tricked into this?

Kaine "9 Wisdom" "Fuck Around And Find Out" "Will Try Anything Once" Silva is such a case study in manipulation. They pride themself on being self aware, but really, they will do some stupid shit just for the sake of saying they'd done it - or for the promise of power. They're enamored by magic and the possibility of getting stronger, controlling more volatile powers, that if you asked nicely enough and showed them something interesting enough, they'd do it. In the first campaign I ever played, Kaine accidentally joined the Cult of the Dragon. That's the kind of motherfucker they are

oc asks here!

[goffiks]

everytime in my entire life ive ever ordered eggplant parmesan sub, which is a lot, its never what i asked for. i just want an eggplant parmesan with extra cheese! what the fuck! fucking wizard curse!

[light-maiden]

CHARMELEON.Fanfiction =)

the streets are totally blacklit and he's long-legging it down the avenue in full wizard robeage, and all of a sudden he's short-legging it, slowing down real fast, slo-mo tip-toeing toward what he's just seen, something really wet looking, smooth, lit from the rear by a flame spouting from its tail-tip, (it's shocking to see light that's not blacklight. it's wonderful, terrifying, it beckons a primal glee out of the gloom like a gem out of oil) and the "wizard" is long-tip-toeing around it in circles now, eyes bugged out, what in the fuck is this fucking thing "go fuck yourself……." the marveled wizard whispers, not necessarily to anything or anyone in particular, maybe to "them" you know the general they, like whoever's in charge of our wizard's sanity "wowwwWWwwwWWWwwwww BAByyyYY….." he's sort of lurching closer like super close to get his eyes full of that glossy serpentine skin.. "CHARMELEON." the thing asserts before slapping the robed dude's face away with its tail the wizard takes his momentary white-out blindness as a state of transition into another dimension and state of being and when it fades and he's back in the blacklit city and the lizard thing is gone he weeps he falls to his ass and weeps and a few little vials of MIT45 Kratom Extract roll out of his steepled hat and he throws back a couple of them and pulls out his glow-in-the-dark magic wand and fwips it a few times which incites his face and body to blow out into a full-blown cry

a pack of coyotes encircle him because they smell what he's got buried in those robes, like a whole carton of cigarettes he walks around with to feed the local coyotes, like bringing wonderbread to a duck pond you know, so they start tearing away at him to get to the goods, they aren't really fussing about his wellbeing while doing this imprecise ripping and boring so he's basically dead meat

charmeleon hates coyotes, he thinks their way of being is like steeped in disgrace. charmeleon is temperamental and can be violent but has a code of honor and makes a point of being pretty graceful. that wizard from earlier was basically coyote level, but like in a pisces kind of way. he's sort of half-consciously musing that to himself while he waters his eggplants. the only produce you can grow in the city is purple colored stuff, by policy. trying to grow, say, a red thing is just a wasted investment. they've got rats (of varieties both figurative and literal) trained to fuck not-purple shit up no matter how good you think you're hiding it. so he's watering purple shit. his wife, a human girl whose romantic proclivities developed playing a NeoPets analogue in her formative years, and who looks like Nami from harvest moon and who is named Nami, is fumigating her computer screen with cigarette smoke over a relentless explosion of keystrokes. she's utilizing a manic episode to psychologically profile a user she's been playing the MMORPG 'Hound Garden Online' with. she hasn't slept in 3 days and won't be able to sleep until she's totally gotten to the bottom of this user. the last time she spoke to USERNAME, USERNAME was doing some really plain-to-see deflection moves around the topic of one of the hounds, having related someone to RANDALL then retracting from any insinuations around the relating. calling someone RANDALL is pretty fucked up. that's all it took, they gave it up, they're hiding something about their personality, something bad, something even really obvious, but something that, as Nami is certain, depicts the tiniest tip of a massive and unholy shit iceberg, a shitberg in the water in which she and other people (Nami cares about people) sail their ships. most people would let it go and just "eh whatever" but Nami isn't one to stand for accepting the partial or fake realities others lazily, or benefit-of-the-doubtedly, would. figuring this user out is now an obsessive compulsive passion.

charmeleon's supportive of it, even admiring. he hates coyotes the most when they wear sheep's clothing.. on top of person clothing. the city's run by coyotes, rife with coyotes, kept purple by coyotes. there's a whole coyote ladder, a boss coyote, and behind and above the boss a shadow cabal of coyotes. the street coyotes get into peoples souls somehow, grow inside them like xenomorphs, just the gruesome bursting-out is less literal. when one sees a small amount of coyote in a person one should get away before it grows big enough to be a problem, or take every effort to eradicate it from the person. in charmeleon's experience you usually can't save people from their coyotes, but you can humilate the coyote, scare it, make it afraid to grow, keep it smaller than what's left of the person. help the person shackle that sucker and keep it chained down. pen it up in a coyote garden nursery and rehabilitate into a hound. charmeleon's not actually thinking about any of this right now, because he's horny. he's thinking how lucky he is to be with a woman who rarely bathes. cleanliness is next to godliness and as graceful as he is he's still a god-forsaken animal. when charmeleon gets horny the flame on his tail kind of liquifies cuz it starts secreting a syruppy flammable fluid. when he was in prison he was bunked up with a guy who had a pretty big kink for heat, for fire, for making it hot. things got a little hot in prison. things are getting a little hot in the eggplant garden

things are getting a little hot in Hound Garden Online. the ERP scene on HGO is fucking nasty.

[drarrily-we-row-along]

February 2: First Date

Well, this was a colossal waste of time Draco thought as he swallowed down the second glass of wine he'd drunk waiting for a date that didn't seem like he was going to show. And the pitying glances he was getting from the waitress and hostess made his skin crawl.

So much for dating muggles being better than dating in the wizarding world. No matter where Draco was, it seemed no one was interested in him. He should have known better than to expect Jonathan from the coffee shop to want to actually get to know him before fucking him.

He blew out a breath and was just about to make eye contact with the waitress to get her to bring him the check, when a hand brushed over his shoulder. "You would not believe what happened," a lovely baritone voice said laughingly.

And Draco knew that voice, but there was no way that it was actually the person it sounded- "Potter?" he asked incredulously as the other man sat down across from him.

He smiled charmingly at Draco, "I got seated on the other side of the restaurant!" he exclaimed. "I was just getting ready to leave, I thought you'd stood me up-"

"What?" he asked, "Are you-" he started before the waitress came over and interrupted them.

"I'm so glad the two of you found each other!" she tittered, "I'm so sorry, I thought you said he was a ginger," she added, nodding at Potter.

Potter laughed, "Definitely not a ginger," he replied giving her that delightfully charming smile.

"You've both had plenty of time to look at the menu, do you know what you'd like?"

(Read more below the cut)

"I would love the spaghetti bolognese," Potter said easily.

Draco, so taken aback by everything that was happening, just said the first thing that came to mind. "The eggplant parmigiana for me, please,"

"I'll be right back with some bread sticks."

Potter looked over at him, "Do you like semi-sweet wines?"

"Sure," he said, still a bit dazed.

"A bottle of your Chianti, too?" he asked the waitress.

She nodded and headed back toward the kitchen and Draco cast a quick wandless Muffliato. "Potter what in Merlin's name-"

"I got stood up," he blurted. "The person I was supposed to be meeting never showed and when I noticed you sitting here alone 20 minutes ago, I thought maybe you had been too."

"What if I was just eating dinner alone?" he asked defensively.

Potter raised an unimpressed eyebrow, "Who sits and drinks two glasses of wine without ordering any food if they're eating alone? Besides, you kept glancing at the door, you're obviously waiting for someone."

"Be that as it may, do you really think I needed your saving?"

The other man visibly deflated, "No. I," he swallowed, "I needed yours. It sounds stupid, but I just hate the feeling of being stood up. Even if I'm never going to see these people again, I just," he shrugged miserably. "I don't want them to think badly of me."

Draco blinked, opened his mouth, then closed it again because he didn’t know what to say to that.

“Never mind,” Potter said, “this was stupid. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m just going to go. I’ll leave money for what I-”

“Wait,” Draco said. “Just," he sighed. "It’s fine,” he said, shaking his head and trying to reorient himself. “Stay. We can catch up?” he said, not entirely sure why he was phrasing it as a question.

“Yeah?” Potter asked, perking up like a golden retriever puppy.

He nodded, a reluctant smile tugging at the corner of his lips in response.

“Okay,” he replied, shoulders easing in relief.

“So,” he said, toying with the stem of his wine glass and wishing it was full to give him something to do. “What are you up to these days, Potter?”

Potter smiled, “Call me Harry.”

—————————

“You know,” Harry said a couple of hours later, after they’d finished dinner and gotten coffee from the shop a few blocks down, while they were walking together, “this was honestly probably one of the best first dates I’ve ever had.”

“That’s because it wasn’t a date,” Draco replied, even as his foolish heart argued otherwise.

Harry hummed and slipped his arm through the crook of Draco’s, “What if I wanted it to be a date? Would you count it then?”

“What are we counting toward?” Draco asked.

The other man huffed a laugh, “do you always have to be so difficult?”

“Yes,” he replied. “It’s part of the charm,” he deadpanned.

Harry squeezed his arm a little, "You are surprisingly charming, you know."

Draco felt himself blush, heat rising to his cheeks and the tips of his ears. "You're barmy."

"Come on," Harry said, swinging around so that he was standing in front of Draco, "Admit it. You had a good time tonight."

He rolled his eyes, "Fine. I had a good time tonight."

Harry beamed at him, "Let me take you on another date," he said.

"Where?"

"Wherever you like," he said. "Want to go to the movies? Want to go to one of those muggle amusement parks?" he asked, then with a frown he added, "I've never been to one of those. Want to go eat crepes in Paris?" he continued, "I'll get us a port key. Want to-"

"Yes," Draco said, huffing a laugh.

"Yes to Paris?"

He shrugged, "Yes to anything. On one condition."

"Name it," Harry said eagerly.

He squeezed Harry's hand, "You keep looking at me like I'm an adventure that you want to have."

Harry laughed, "Easy," he promised. Then, after a moment of the two of them standing and staring at each other like absolute idiots, Harry said, "Can I walk you home?"

He nodded, "I actually only live a few blocks away."

They continued chatting as they walked and Draco couldn't help but feel a little amazed that talking to Harry was this easy. When they arrived at Draco's flat, Harry stopped at the bottom step.

"When will I see you again?" Draco asked, biting his lower lip.

Shoving his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, he asked, "Is tomorrow too soon?"

"Tomorrow's perfect," he said, relief and excitement washing over him.

Harry grinned, "Can I pick you up at 6:00?"

"I'd like that," Draco replied.

"Tomorrow, then," Harry said, stepping back from the steps. "Sleep well, Draco," he added before starting off in the opposite direction.

"See you tomorrow," he murmured, feeling more excited than he had in ages for the day ahead of him.

-----------

For the @hdcandyheartsfest February 2 Prompt: First Date

February 1: Sweetheart | February 3: Blanket Fort

[m0srael]

[E | 9k | cw: light, consensual dom/sub] Summary: Up in the air, Draco can become anyone he wants to be, or cease to be anyone at all. When he puts on his flight attendant's uniform he's just one more smiling face in the crowd, a forgettable interlude in his passengers' day. Not a petrified boy, not a criminal, not a Wizard just trying to keep it together as best he can. That is until a certain someone interrupts his flight patterns.

DEN to ORD -- Flight 5693 August 13th, ↑4:55pm -- ↓8:32pm Flight Duration: 2hrs37

Draco doesn’t know how he got himself into this position.

Well, actually he does. He sort of splayed himself out flat—his left knee is hiked up onto the narrow shelf behind the toilet, his right hand is gripping the rim of the tiny metal washbasin, and his left hand is twisted behind him and clutched into the thick, curly hair of the man currently shagging him senseless in the airplane lavatory.

No, what he doesn’t understand is how he’s found himself in this position with Harry Fucking Potter.

An hour ago, he hadn't so much as thought that name in almost five years. All he was concerned about was making his connection in Chicago and whether or not the place that does the cinnamon pretzels in terminal 3 would still be open when he landed.

This is the second-to-last leg of a fourteen-day stretch. As much as he loves his job, he’s completely exhausted and ready for a week off. He’s been looking forward to Pansy’s birthday party for weeks—he can’t remember the last time he saw his roommate and best friend for longer than a few hours at a time.

This isn’t his first mid-flight hookup, not by a long shot. Flight attendants spend so much time together in confined spaces on the job; it’s bound to happen on occasion. That isn’t even accounting for the communal crash pads the airline provides for them between shifts. They’re often just glorified hotel rooms lined with bunk beds. Draco always feels like he’s back in the Slytherin common room, surrounded by horny teenagers with little regard for their roommates’ need for sleep.

This is, however, the first time he’s gotten off with a former childhood rival—in the air or otherwise.

Read the rest on Ao3

so, so many thanks to @softlystarstruck for the encouragement, @corvuscrowned for the beta, and @nv-md for the eggplant emoji 😂

[dcbbw]

Sixish Sunday and Update

Hello, Tumblr! Miss me? I know it’s been a (hot mess) minute since I have been around these parts and a lot has happened. (it’s all under the cut)

I quit my job in DC (and worked three full days AFTER my end date because apparently the 11 page spreadsheet, calendar of everything I was responsible for complete with internal deadlines and vendor deadlines and notes, as well as examples of all the things was not clear enough) and packed up my life and made the move to NC.

My cousins moved me because no way was I paying someone $3800 to haul my stuff 300 miles and renting a car. I ended up paying $1300 + meals for the move and got a ride to boot. All I’m gonna say is I got what I paid for; it was a two-seater panel truck and we put a metal folding chair between the seats. We looked like Bonnie, Clyde, and Curly coming down the road, and the passenger door didn’t close properly, so it randomly swung open at inopportune times.

But I made it one piece; my laptop was not as fortunate. It looks like a rusted out Chevy sitting on bricks at the moment but it saved my stuff and I can type, so YAY!

While I am excited about a fresh start here in the Tarheel State (new job starts Tuesday), I am sad to be away from my studio; I lived there for 17 years and swear it’s the home I (emotionally) grew up in. It’s where I rediscovered my love of writing and became family with a building full of strangers. But I am certain I will find that again here.

While I try to maneuver a huge chunk of my life into what used to be my brother’s bedroom, I have found time to jot down thoughts and ideas that will eventually become full-blown stories. I plan to work on Burnsy’s incredibly late birthday fic, answer some asks for SGL, Dramien, JGL, and a writer’s choice ask. I want to follow-up on so many of WIPs and to post my follower appreciation poll.

And on that note, I do have a little somethings to share for Six Sentence Sunday!

From Remixed: The Social Season, Chapter 3:

“I got a text message from Drake,” Bliam said as he tucked his crisp white shirt into silk black trousers. “He says House Beaumont has a sponsee.”

“Did he say which one?” Asiam asked eagerly as Whiam tried unsuccessfully to knot his necktie.

Bliam shook his head negatively. “When I asked, he said he needed a “what the fuck” emoji.”

Asiam looked at Whiam impatiently. “I could have tied this thing three times by now!”

“You had it wrapped around your waist saying it was your belt!” Whiam retorted, his eyes squinted in concentration. “I can get it, it’s just this is harder than it looks.”

“That’s what she said,” Asiam smirked.

“WHY are you like this?” Bliam complained.

“I’ll be happy to get some real food in me,” Whiam commented as he finally looped the cravat.

“I took the liberty of requesting prime rib and yearling potatoes.” Bliam pulled his arms through the sleeves of his tuxedo jacket.

Asiam frowned. “I ordered curried lamb with rice.”

Whiam sat on the edge of his bed, clumsily buttoning his shirt. “I asked for seafood pasta!”

Bliam rolled his eyes. “Can we EVER agree on anything?”

Whiam pulled on his socks. “Madeleine!”

Bliam nodded in agreement. “Amen to that, brother!”

Asiam said nothing, choosing to stare at the ceiling instead. Feeling two pairs of blue eyes staring at him, he gave a loud exhale. “WHAT?”

Whiam shook his head in disapproval. “You didn’t! Did you? I mean, she was engaged to … Leo!”

Asiam ran a comb through his raven locks. “All I’m going to say is the drapes and carpet match.”

 Original song lyrics for Love Grind from the next chapter of my Platinum/TRR crossover fic:

You workin’ so hard to bring home the bacon

Hustlin’ a grind, no time for lovemakin’

Giving your keyboard all your strokes

All your strokes

All your strokes

You ain’t kissing these lips

You ain’t grabbing these hips

Baby come home, let me clear your mind

Put this peach in your lap

And take you for a love grind

Bounce, roll, thrust, hold

Kiss, moan, scream, groan

Give me that eggplant, make me eat vegetarian

Then lay back so I can ride like an equestrian

Lemme give you that love grind

That love grind

Slap this ass, fill all my holes, make me say your name

Gimme that love grind

Bounce

That love grind

Moan

That love grind

Roll

Gimme all your strokes

Groan

All your strokes

Thrust

All your strokes

Fill all the holes

 Mr. Sonny’s Children, Original Work:

“Hello, Ma.”

There is silence for a few moments; my mother is caught unawares because I rarely answer her calls during the day. There is baggage between us, and demons who play messenger with us. I can’t deal with that when I am trying to heal and cure people.

I gave up on trying to save anyone a long time ago.

“Mabel?” Her voice is hesitant and laced with a warble.

I wonder if she is holding back tears or curses. My mother doesn’t hate me, but she is scared to love me.

I am a child of rape. To love me is to admit she is okay with the violent assault that conceived me. To acknowledge that I survived the rusty hanger and jagged forceps that tried to kill us both is to accept I was meant to be here, destined to be hers throughout all eternity.

Nothing good comes from an evil act.

“Hi, Ma.” I don’t bother to remind her I go by Ann now. She knows.

More silence, thick with tension and unspoken emotions.

I set the spoon back in the bowl and use my chopsticks to toy with a sushi roll instead. I idly roll one side in wasabi that is more pasty than creamy and dunk the other side in soy sauce. I speak into the phone pressed to my ear.

“Ma, I’m at work. Is everything okay?”

“Mr. Sonny died,” she exhales.

I set the chopsticks down carefully before blinking my eyes and staring out at the rain again. “When?”

“Last night. Lung cancer.”

I nod slowly. Mr. Sonny was notorious for consuming all types of tobacco products: he smoked cigarettes, cigars, and pipes. When he wasn’t smoking tobacco, he was chewing it. When he was younger, he was quite handsome: tall with dark, wavy hair and deep green eyes. He was a persuasive speaker with a raw confidence unheard of rural Mississippi, even for whites. That is how he became the Imperial Wizard of our county’s chapter of the KKK.

The last time I saw him was three years ago. He had shrunk, walking with a hunch in his back. His face was wizened and wrinkled; the pate of his head speckled with brown liver spots where hair no longer grew. The backs of his hands were wrinkled and knotted with bright blue veins, his fingers gnarled.

He looked at me as if I were shit on his shoe.

“Why are you telling me this?” I ask slowly. But I knew why.

Mr. Sonny was my father.

[hollymartinswrites]

Chapters: 5/? Fandom: IT - Stephen King, IT (Movies - Muschietti) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh Characters: Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier, Ben Hanscom, Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough, Mike Hanlon, Original Child Character(s) Additional Tags: Fix-It, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), Domestic, Light Angst, Family Feels, Childhood Trauma, Adoption, Kid Fic, Adopted Children, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Marriage, Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier Are Parents, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Minor Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Beverly Marsh & Richie Tozier Are Best Friends Summary:

Eddie and Richie embark on the most terrifying experience of all—parenthood.

Or, the author desperately needed a domestic, family fix-it for Richie and Eddie.

Chapter V: Richie and Eddie’s youngest daughter suffers from separation anxiety. Or is it something else?

“No, please, don’t do this to me, baby,” Eddie begged.

He tried to straighten and gently remove the arms that were locked around his neck but toddlers in the midst of hysteria apparently have the strength of twenty men.

“Tess, it’s okay,” Richie insisted over the loud sobs of their youngest daughter as he, too, tried to pry her death grip off of Eddie. “Daddy’s just going to work. He’ll be back later to play with us, I promise.”

He managed to free one hand from Eddie’s neck and, in her brief confusion as to why she was suddenly no longer in control of her hand, gathered Tess up in his arms. Her screams only increased in pitch. She launched a bodily attack this time, kicking and flailing with all her might. She managed to land one solid kick to his stomach, and he nearly doubled over.

“Just go,” he grunted at Eddie. “I’ll distract her.”

“Rich, I—”

“You gotta go to work, just leave, you’re makin’ it worse standing here.”

Eddie frowned as Richie turned, Tess still hysterical in his arms even though he kept telling her all the fun games they could play now. Eddie hated leaving the house like this but he didn’t have any other choice. He turned towards the door and quickly slipped out, locking it behind him before heading towards his car.

He collapsed in the front seat, and winced. He could still hear Tess’s hysterical cries from inside the house. Everything in his heart told him to ignore work and return to his daughter but he knew the parenting books he had obsessively read before adopting their first child were against that. He also knew that if he walked back into that house, he would quite possibly never return to work again.

He started the car, took a deep breath, and drove away.

“This can’t just be a phase.”

Eddie rubbed his forehead, incredibly exhausted. He looked up and watched as Richie haphazardly threw their clean laundry into their dresser. He couldn’t bring himself to care.

“I mean, separation anxiety is a thing, I get it, but shouldn’t it be for both parents?” Richie continued.

Eddie shrugged.

“Maybe not,” he said quietly. “Maybe it’s just because I’m the one who leaves every morning.”

Richie shook his head and ran a hand through his hair.

“It should be getting better though,” he sighed. “I mean, you going to work isn’t new for her anymore.”

Eddie rubbed his face.

“We need to find her a therapist,” he said.

“They have therapists for toddlers?”

Eddie nodded. Richie sighed again and sat beside him on the bed, his shoulders slumped. Eddie took his hand into his and ran his thumb along his knuckles.

“I hate this,” Richie mumbled. “I hate seeing her so upset.”

“Me too.”

“She made herself sick once.”

Eddie’s heart fell and he stared at his husband in shock.

“What?” he gasped.

“Like a month ago,” Richie admitted softly. “I thought it was because I gave her French toast for the first time but she kept crying so hard after you left and the next thing I knew, she lost her lunch all over the floor.”

Horror and pain and guilt whirled around inside Eddie.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked breathlessly.

“I told you, I thought it was just regular toddler throw up, but now I think she...I thought she was gonna get sick again today. Fuck!” Richie dropped his head into his hands and yanked at his hair. “I’m such a fucking shit dad.”

“Rich—”

“Our baby’s suffering and all I could think to do is put on Cinderella and rope Lydia into playing dress up to distract her.” Richie sniffed and shook his head. “I’m just like my parents.”

“What are you talking about?”

“My parents didn’t know what to do with me as a kid,” he murmured. “They loved me but they had no idea how to handle a kid with ADHD and anxiety. I mean, it was the 80s, they didn’t have the resources but we fucking do and I’m still fucking up.”

Eddie took Richie into his arms and held him silently for several long minutes until his breathing got under control. He rubbed his back and tried desperately to think of the proper thing to say but he had never had a way with words, not like Bill.

Richie exhaled shakily and straightened. He wiped at his eyes and sniffed again.

“Thank God it’s Friday, right?” he muttered, huffing a laugh. “At least we got a weekend to recoup.”

Eddie brushed Richie’s hair from his forehead and smoothed it gently.

“And we’ll look into a therapist for her,” he said. “We’ll figure it out. I promise, Rich.”

Richie nodded and sighed before resting his head on Eddie’s shoulder. Warmth spread throughout Eddie and for once, he felt like the stronger of the two.

“It’s been getting better,” Richie admitted. “She still cries more often than not but not like before. This week we got two days in a row without a freakout.”

Eddie’s eyelids fluttered. Tess was in his arms, fast asleep, on the living room couch, The Wizard of Oz playing softly on the TV. Though he was speaking quietly, Eddie could still hear Richie as he spoke on the phone in the kitchen. From the relieved happiness in his voice when he answered, Eddie assumed he was speaking to Bev.

“I don’t know,” Richie continued. “It’s clear she has some anxiety issues but hopefully we can nip it in the bud before it gets worse as she gets older. The therapy seems to be helping.”

Eddie glanced down as his daughter peacefully slept, curled up on his chest. He ran his thumb along her arm and smiled gently. She always looked younger and somehow smaller when she slept. Eddie wished, not for the first time, that she could look this calm and serene when she was awake.

“No, it’s still just when Eddie leaves,” Richie said, his voice dropping even lower. Eddie had the distinct feeling that Richie had assumed he had also fallen asleep in front of the TV. “And it’s not just that. Sometimes she gets these looks...like, far-off looks. I can’t explain it.”

Eddie swallowed. He, too, had noticed that particular quirk of their daughter’s, only he called them ‘long-gone looks’ because, for brief moments, it seemed as if Tess had disappeared somewhere deep inside herself. Her eyes would go out of focus, her entire little body would still, and for a moment, she was gone. It had frightened him the first time he had seen it but she would always blink and smile up at him and Eddie would nearly collapse under the overwhelming relief.

“I know, I know, you think I’m crazy,” Richie sighed, “but I worry. It’s more than just being sensitive or anxious, Bev. It’s something else.”

Eddie tightened his grip around his daughter. He had never said it aloud to his husband, but he had been plagued by the same worry.

“I don’t know what to do,” Richie said. “I remember when we first started looking into adoption, I was so fucking...I thought I would be able to handle anything because of the shit we went through as kids but it turns out, I feel really fucking helpless.”

Well, Eddie thought sadly, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve overlooked Richie’s feelings.

“No, they passed out on the couch watching a movie,” Richie continued, huffing a laugh. “Yeah, I’ll tell him. I will, I promise. Thanks. Give Ben a big kiss on the mouth for me, okay? With lots of tongue. Love you.”

Eddie froze. He briefly considered shutting his eyes and pretending to be asleep but to his immense relief, Richie merely pushed back his chair at the kitchen table and slowly walked down the hall to their bedroom. Eddie exhaled a breath and turned back to the TV. Dorothy was crying about not being allowed in to the Emerald City. He sighed and closed his eyes, gently rubbing his daughter’s back.

Rainy days had never been his favorite when he was a child. They meant loneliness, isolation, and long days with his mother fretting over him. He always had his worst asthma attacks on rainy days. Those had been dark and dreary days that never seemed to end.

Eddie glanced into the living room. Lydia was sprawled on the couch, munching on apple slices, while Tess played with Barbie dolls on the floor. The Lion King was playing on the TV. Through the windows, he could see the rain falling even harder. He turned back to the cutting board. Rainy days weren’t so bad now.

His phone buzzed. He picked it up.

Just got to the venue. Gonna grab dinner with my agent and the promoter before the show. I’ll call you before I go on.

Eddie swiped his phone open and began typing his reply.

Have a good time and break a leg. All’s quiet here. Lydia asked if she could stay up until you get home tonight but I squashed that.

Richie responded immediately.

Yeah, when I told her I had a show this morning, she told me you already did a show last month. She’s very persuasive.

Eddie smiled and shook his head.

Well, she’s fine now so go live it up down there in AC. But don’t go too crazy.

I’m gonna eat a burger and maybe since I’m feeling wild even drink a soda. Really let loose. I’ll call you later. Love you, babe.

Eddie smirked as he texted that he loved Richie back and put his phone away. He returned to the task of chopping eggplant and making sure it didn’t get too quiet in the living room. He and Richie had quickly learned that there was no sound more terrifying for a parent than silence.

Lydia was still loudly snacking on her apple slices and explaining the movie to her sister. Tess, meanwhile, simply hummed in response. From the music, Eddie could tell they were at the infamous stampede scene. He still didn’t understand how kids could enjoy that movie so much. It seemed so fucking dark. Richie said that because Simba gets adopted by two gay dads, they should let it slide (Eddie hadn’t bothered to ask if they were supposed to be Timon and Pumbaa).

He dropped the chopped eggplant into the pot and began working on the bell peppers when he heard Lydia insist with all the wisdom that comes with being an older sibling, “No, he’s not sleeping, he’s dead.”

“I know,” Tess replied. “But he’ll get up.”

“No, Tess, when someone dies, they stay dead. Mufasa’s not coming back.”

“Yes, he is.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Sometimes they come back.”

“Tess, that’s not—”

“Daddy came back.”

The knife slipped and Eddie felt his stomach clench as he watched the blade miss his finger by millimeters. He was suddenly aware that he wasn’t breathing.

“What are you talking about?” Lydia continued. “Daddy’s not dead.”

“I know that,” Tess replied impatiently. “But he did die and he came back.”

“No, he didn’t.”

“Yes, he did.”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“No, no!”

“Yes, yes!”

“DADDY.”

“Girls, settle down,” he heard himself saying as he walked into the living room.

“Tess says you died,” Lydia said quickly, pointing at her sister, who merely looked puzzled at the fact that this was even an argument.

Eddie turned towards his youngest daughter and swallowed.

“Tess, sweetheart, what makes you say that?” he asked hollowly. “I’m right here. Quite alive.”

“I know but—”

“You shouldn’t lie,” Lydia observed importantly.

“Lydia, please,” Eddie sighed. He crouched down in front of Tess and took one of her hands in his own. “I’m right here. See? Everything’s fine.”

“I know that, Daddy, you’re okay now,” Tess continued.

“You can’t die and come back,” Lydia insisted again.

“Jesus did,” Tess shot back. “Grandma told us.”

Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. Great, now he and Richie had to have another conversation about setting boundaries with Richie’s family. He was not looking forward to that.

“Tess, sweetheart, what exactly are you talking about? I’m obviously alive and okay.”

“But I saw it, Daddy,” she insisted, a trembling whine in her voice.

“Saw what?”

“You and the monster and Papa. I saw it and I cried lots and lots but then you got better so I wasn’t scared no more.”

The blood rang in Eddie’s ears and he almost missed hearing his eldest daughter haughtily reply, “There’s no such thing as monsters.”

“And it hurt you but Papa made sure you got better and the monster disappeared forever. That’s why you have that boo boo.” Tess tapped him gently on the chest.

Later, Eddie would be amazed at his ability to compartmentalize. All he could think in that breathless moment was, I’m burning the eggplant.

He stood up on shaky legs, smiled (or at least attempted to) at his daughters, and told them to apologize to one another for arguing and finish the movie. He walked, as if in a dream, back into the kitchen, turned off the stove, and suddenly realized that tears were streaming down his face.

You thought you knew fear once, laughed a voice that sounded like a macabre combination of his mother and the clown, but you’re in for quite a ride, Eddie Bear.

“It’s back,” Richie exclaimed as he feverishly paced around their bedroom. “It has to be back. We didn’t kill It.”

“You don’t know that,” Eddie sighed.

“Then why did she say that?” Richie asked, his eyes wild. “It’s back and It followed us here.”

“That’s impossible.”

“No, what’s impossible is that a fucking space alien takes the form of a clown and a leper and fucking Paul Bunyan to fuck with us and kill people we love,” Richie insisted, breathless. “That’s fucking impossible but it fucking happened so why would it not happen again?”

“Rich, our scars are gone,” Eddie said, holding out his hand. “It’s gone.”

Richie shook his head. Eddie could tell by the look on his face and his frantic movements that he was on the verge of a panic attack. He took both of Richie’s hands in his and begged him to breathe with him. Richie snatched his hands away.

“We gotta call Mike,” he gasped.

“It’s two in the morning,” Eddie reminded him.

“So what? This is an emergency.” Richie stopped moving and pointed at Eddie. “And you should’ve called me as soon as it happened.”

“And what would you have done?” Eddie snapped. “Tell your manager, sorry, I can’t do the show, you gotta refund all the tickets because my four-year-old said something weird. Come the fuck on.”

“How are you so calm about this?” Richie asked wildly.

“Because it was probably just a dream she had.”

“Bullshit.”

“Think about it logically,” Eddie continued, “dreams are just our brains trying to make sense of the shit we see and experience, right?” Richie stared at him doubtfully. “Tess has seen the scar on my chest. Her little kid brain came up with an explanation for it.”

“An explanation that includes me and a monster and you dying?”

“We’re her parents, of course she’d dream about us,” Eddie replied. “And all kids are afraid of monsters.”

“She said you died and came back.” A tormented look crossed Richie’s face and his eyes were suddenly wet. “You did.”

“Parents die in all Disney movies. So her brain used that to explain the scar.”

Richie hesitated and ran a hand through his wild hair. Eddie noticed more strands of gray.

“I don’t know,” Richie murmured.

“I do,” Eddie said. “It was a dream. Tess had a bad dream. It’s nothing to worry about. I just wanted to tell you so you didn’t have a freak out like this in front of her if she ever brought it up again.”

Richie’s shoulders slumped. Eddie bit his tongue. He hadn’t meant to make him feel guilty. Richie raised his eyes to meet Eddie’s.

“Are you sure?” he asked hoarsely. “Are you sure she was just talking about a dream?”

Eddie took Richie’s hand again and squeezed it reassuringly.

“I’m sure,” he lied.

Weeks went by, then months. Tess’s separation anxiety seemed to be improving and though she still got that long-gone looks occasionally, she never mentioned anything about death or monsters or people coming back when they shouldn’t have. She still threw tantrums, still favored being held and read to by Eddie, still was an exhausting four-year-old but both Richie and Eddie were more than happy with that.

Perhaps it all had been a phase. Kids could be weird, Eddie figured. He and Richie both knew that to be true. And she was the younger sister. She needed her moments to act out for attention, right? Nothing to fret over. Just typical, run-of-the-mill childhood. Eddie and Richie began to relax and enjoy the ride. Besides, with two clever and rambunctious children under ten, they were far too busy to constantly worry. Like today.

Eddie was packing the cooler with juice, water bottles, and snacks. Richie was searching for his sneakers and Lydia was in the midst of her now daily monologue about the merits of owning a puppy.

“Not now, kiddo, we gotta get going,” Richie said, emptying a duffel bag of old gym clothes onto the floor. No sneakers.

Eddie grimaced from the kitchen.

“You’re cleaning that up later and washing those clothes,” he called. “They stink.”

“We could get a tiny puppy,” Lydia continued. “One that doesn’t get big and slobbery.”

“Lydia, go get your sister and make sure she’s got a jacket on,” Eddie said as he was silently debating which brand of organic fruit snacks to pack.

“And I’d clean up after it, like how I always clean my room.”

“Your room is still a mess from Tuesday,” Richie replied, now on his knees in front of the hall closet. “Go get your sister. Your cousins are all waiting for us at the park.”

“But—”

“Ah-ha! Found them,” Richie exclaimed, waving a pair of old Converses in his hand. “Lyds, Tess, now.”

Lydia sighed dramatically before stomping off down the hall to her sister’s room. Eddie zipped up the cooler and watched Richie tie up his laces.

“You’re wearing those?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“What? They’re cool.”

“You know you’re not in high school anymore, right?”

“Forgive me for not wanting to dress like a grandpa.”

Eddie glanced down at his outfit.

“Grandpas don’t dress like this,” he insisted.

“Babe, no one dresses like that.”

Eddie was prevented from flipping Richie off by the arrival of their eldest daughter.

“Tess is being weird,” she stated, an odd look on her face.

“Did you tell her we’re leaving?” Eddie asked before he realized he nearly forgot the allergy pills and went back to the cabinet.

“Yeah, but she’s being weird,” Lydia repeated.

“I’ll get her,” Richie sighed. “Put your jacket on, Lyds.” He went off down the hall to retrieve their daughter.

Eddie rifled through the medicine cabinet, searching for the children’s non-drowsy allergy medicine and wondering if it was overkill to bring ibuprofen, too. He opened the bottle and peered in to see how many pills were left. He never got a chance to really look, however, because he dropped the opened bottle on the floor when he heard his husband scream their youngest daughter’s name in horror.

[killscreencinema]

Wrecking Crew (NES)

I’ve probably told this story before, and I’ll probably tell it again, but when I was a child there was a brief period of time where we had to live with my aunt and uncle, who had four girls of various ages ranging from my age at the time to teenagers in high school.  Any given day in that house was crazy, like something from out of Roseanne or some other sitcom featuring a benignly dysfunctional family.  As if being in that kind of atmosphere wasn’t stimulating enough, my cousins had a Nintendo with a fucking treasure trove of games.  I’ll never forget how amazing I was when they first showed a large plastic Tupperware container full of NES games, the most I had ever seen in one place up to that point.  It was like that scene in The Wizard, when the protagonists are challenged by some douchy kid named Lucas to an NES match and he shows them his collection of games, claiming, “I have them all.”  

My aunt and uncle weren’t wealthy and had four kids to support.  So I have no idea how they were able to afford those games, while my parents, who probably made about the same with fewer kids to support, could scarcely afford to buy me one game a year for Christmas.  While the amount of games they owned was staggering, the quality of them.... not so much.  Off the top of my head, the games they owned was Rambo, Mighty Bomb Jack, Skate or Die 2, The Legend of Kage, Micky Mousecapade, Bases Loaded III, Ghosts n’ Goblins, among others I’m probably forgetting.  As you can see, while there are some gems in there like Ghosts n’ Goblins and Mighty Bomb Jack (which I was obsessed with playing whenever I was visiting), the rest of the games were... questionable at best. 

One of them I hadn’t named was Wrecking Crew, released in the first wave of games with the NES in 1985.  I remember my first reaction to playing the game was utter confusion that this was a Mario game.  First of all, you can’t jump in Wrecking Crew, and jumping... is kinda Mario’s thing.  It’s his only thing.  HIS ORIGINAL NAME WAS “JUMP MAN” FOR CHRISSAKES!  So how could I believe this imposter in the construction hat was Mario? 

Well, the game itself confirms as much, so I had to accept it, but even then the gameplay was so different than any Mario game I had played up to that point.  Where were the goombas, Koopa Troopas, and Bowser?  Where was Donkey Kong?  Wasn’t terrorizing Mario in a construction setting usually his territory?  Instead Mario is beset by angry ratchets, eggplant men, and an evil version of Mario called Spike (a sorta proto-Wario).  The objective of every level is for Mario to use his trusty hammer to destroy walls, doors, and concrete ladders - anything that he can pulverize. 

I enjoyed the game as a kid to a certain degree, but ultimately got bored with the repetitive nature of it.  As an adult.... same.  Arcade style games like this are fun, but aren’t made to be an immersive experience in the way that many games are nowadays.  While I don’t mind playing a twitchy, fast-paced game, like you’re Galagas, Ms. Pac-Mans, etc, there’s only so much I can play before I let myself get killed or just leave the game entirely. 

Even then, Wrecking Crew is no Namco classic.  It can be pretty unfair in how much time it gives the player to figure out the best strategy for beating a level and the later stages get insanely difficult.  Sure, you can pause the game and plan out what to do next, but that’s no fun.  Either way, Wrecking Crew is a fun curiosity to revisit, but you’ll get bored pretty quickly.

[queenofthyme]

A week of somewhat forced but not completely unpleasant dinner dates with Harry Potter. A story by Draco L Malfoy.

Content Warning: Major character struggling with eating disorder

@ravenna1988

Read previous parts here: Part One l Part Two l Part Three l Part Four l Part Five

Part Six Monday

Monday afternoon. Draco has no idea if Potter is going to show up for dinner. He’s still mad. But only a little. It’s hard to be consumed by rage when you’re also consumed with missing someone. Because he fucking misses Potter. It’s pathetic. And very very stupid. But he does.

And if Potter doesn’t turn up, Draco is going to need to find another dinner partner, and he doesn’t fancy seeing his mother (obviously) or enduring another guilt-ridden dinner with a stranger.

Against all Draco’s better judgement, he calls Potter.

It takes a number of rings for Potter to answer and when he does with a simple “Hello?” his voice is a little breathless like he’s been exercising. Auror Training. Of course.

“Potter, it’s me,” Draco says quickly before he can succumb to temptation and hang up.

“D – Malfoy, hi,” Potter’s voice changes becoming stiff and polite. It’s not like Potter at all.

“Hi,” Draco replies and then stops. He doesn’t know what to say. Are you still coming over? Seems a little desperate, a little pathetic. Engaging in small talk would be awkward and horrible so that’s out. There’s really nothing Draco can say. Draco curses himself for not thinking this through before calling as the silence stretches across the phoneline.

And then finally Potter breaks it. “I’m glad you called actually, I’m not sure what wine to bring over tonight. I’m rubbish with brands. Do you have any suggestions?”

Draco almost gasps at the brilliance of Potter’s words, that intelligent bastard. It’s the perfect way to confirm their d – arrangement for tonight without having to address the other night’s fight. Draco could just kiss him. Or, you know, not because that’s a stupid thought. He just appreciates intelligence is all.

Draco realises he’s let another silence stretch on and the longer he waits, the worse it -  “Don’t be stupid, Potter. I have wine at my apartment. You don’t need to bring any.”

Without waiting for an answer, Draco hangs up, feeling much better.

He pulls out a bottle of red wine, and then as an afterthought, a bottle of white as well. He has no idea what Potter is planning to cook and chances are Potter won’t understand the importance of matching your wine to the meal.

Then comes the waiting game. Draco isn’t usually so eager for dinner. In fact, before his mother’s doctor forced him into this unpleasant schedule, he would do all he could to ignore the clock between the late afternoon and night so as not to be reminded of the impending conventional dinner time. Especially since it was usually the time his mother liked to show up as well. Not anymore. Draco apartment is now magically warded against her. Actually, that’s why she sent over a doctor in her place. And look how that turned out.

But now, all Draco can do is stare at the clock, anticipating Potter’s arrival. He’s both anxious to see Potter, in the light of his outburst the last time they were together, and excited, in the light of Potter being Potter.

When Potter finally does show, Draco sees him first from his bedroom window which looks down onto the street. He’s carrying way too many bags for one person, and certainly way too many for a wizard – any other would’ve shrunk the items and fit them into one bag or even their pocket for Merlin’s sake. But not Potter.

Draco feels sorry for the bastard and hurries down to meet him, with only a fleeting concern of how eager he might look in the process. When he opens the door to Potter juggling his bags, clearly trying to work out a way to knock without any hands, Draco is rewarded with a dazzling smile. Yes, that might explain his excitement.

Potter, again clearly having no understand of pureblood traditions, or ever just manners in general really, barges straight into the house, searching on his own for the kitchen before Draco has time to even offer a tour.

Draco follows him around, not bothering to help direct. Potter seems pretty capable on his own because he finds the kitchen via the entrance way under the stairs almost immediately, dropping all his bags on the bench with a sigh of relief. It’s at this point that he finally speaks and also when Draco realises he’s been clenching his teeth in anticipation.

“How good are you at chopping?”

It’s not what Draco had been expecting. He hesitates. “Ah…”

“Grating, peeling…opening jars?” Potter continues, beginning to unpack the bags.

“Not very,” Draco answers honestly. He wonders how long it will be until they mention the fight.

“At least you have a nice kitchen going for you.”

It is a nice kitchen. Retro baby blue tile with a floor to ceiling window that looks out onto a shared courtyard. Usually Draco’s blinds remain tightly closed but he has opened them today for Potter’s benefit. He should enjoy the full view even if Draco doesn’t.

“I have far more than that going for me, I can assure you, Potter.” Draco can’t help but be cheeky in his reply. Seeing Potter seems to pull out an embarrassingly flirty side of him. “Don’t you worry your precious little head about what that means.” He looks over to Potter and is pleased to see a hint of colour in his face.

“Worry isn’t how I’d describe my thought process,” Potter says his eyes firmly focused on the final bag he is unpacking.

Draco leans up against the counter across from Potter. He’s feeling a little light headed and he’s attributing it to Potter’s dazzling smile from earlier. “So what do you want me to do?” He asks, happy for Potter to lead the way. Potter looks up at him sharply. “Chop, grate, peel?” Draco prompts.

“Oh right,” Potter says quickly, turning away again, which gives Draco the suspicion he was thinking something else entirely.

Potter puts Draco to work, slicing and dicing a million different vegetables, all the while explaining what ingredients will be used to pull out other flavours and then if that wasn’t already overkill, also explaining each of their dietary benefits. It’s not subtle. And Potter obviously knows that. But Draco lets him continue regardless, trying not to make any snarky comments along the way – which is difficult.

Somehow Draco isn’t mad this time. It could be the gentle smile on Potter’s face, the way he stands close by Draco’s side, almost always near enough to touch, or it could be the fact that he’s actually ready to listen now, really listen. And he’s not altogether unconvinced that Potter has a point.

It’s when Draco is slicing layers of eggplant that he starts to feel the unbearable heaviness in his head, which infuriatingly feels light, or perhaps empty, at the same time. His knife drops to the chopping board with a quiet clatter, but’s enough to draw Potter’s attention. Draco feels Potter’s hands, one at his back, one at his elbow, and he can see the blur of Potters lips moving but there’s no sound coming out.

If I’d known it was just dinner, I still would have come, but –

And then Draco is falling both metaphorically and physically, and in at least one of those instances, but probably both, Potter catches him with gentle hands. It would be romantic if it weren’t for the fact that Draco was far too out of it to appreciate it at all.

When he comes back to, whether minutes or hours later Draco has no idea, he is lying down on a cold hard floor, and there’s a panicked voice at his ear.

“Wake up. Draco, wake up. Please. Draco. Draco.”

Draco opens his eyes. Or at least he thinks he does. But he can’t see anything. He lifts his hands to his face, searching. His eyelids are open. His eyelids are open but he can’t see anything.

Potter’s voice has stopped. Draco hears the unmistakeable sound of a dialtone and then the faint voice: “St Mungo’s Emergency. What is your –“

Draco’s hand springs up automatically. Unable to see Potter or the phone, he blindly flails his hand until he hears the phone drop from Potter’s hand and clatter to the floor. “No hospital.” He manages to say before he loses consciousness again.

Coming to for the second time is much more pleasant. In place of a hard floor is something soft and familiar. His mattress. Which means Potter must have carried him up the stairs. Before he can get too upset about missing that, he remembers his vision. He opens his eyes in a panic. It’s blurry but it’s there. Colours and shapes…and movement. Potter’s pacing at the end of Draco’s bed, phone in hand.

For a second Draco considers lunging out of bed and yanking the phone from Potter’s hand but then the conversation reaches his ear and he relaxes. It’s not the hospital at least.

“-wake up soon, I am taking him to the hospital. I don’t care what he says. Merlin, I thought he was…but I think he just fainted.”

Draco watches Potter as he slowly comes into focus. He is frantic. One hand grasping the hair on his own head in what looks like a painful fashion as he continues to pace back and forth, back and forth, back and –

“Draco!” Potter’s yells suddenly, obviously catching sight of Draco’s open eyes. “Yeah, he’s awake. I’ll call you back,” Potter says into the phone as he comes around to Draco’s side.

“How do you feel?”

“Fine,” Draco answers automatically except his throat is dry so it comes out a little choked up. Not exactly what he was going for.

Potter’s eyebrows have a little party on his face before deciding to drop dangerously close to his eyes. “Why won’t you let me take you to hospital?” He asks, but it’s gentle. Of course it’s gentle. It’s Harry fucking Potter. Saviour of the Wizarding World and now he’s here to save Draco.

“I don’t need – “ Draco starts and then stops himself. He’s not so sure what he needs anymore. And if he’s being honest, this fainting spell has scared him. Petrified him, even. And the hospital isn’t looking as terrible as it once did. But – “I’m not ready.” Draco answers truthfully instead.

Potter nods and reaches out his hand to hold Draco’s, gently, always gently. Draco tries to hold back a shiver. “You need to be ready very soon.”

Draco hears the implication in his words. He is being taken to the hospital whether he likes it or not. There’s something strangely relieving in it, knowing the choice isn’t really in his hands. Not when he’s up against Harry Potter. The defeater of the Dark Lord. People bow down to him on the street – no, really some of them do! Narcissa Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson and Harry Potter. Merlin, if they’d teamed up during the war, Voldemort would have been destroyed much earlier.

“I know,” Draco finally says, his voice shaky. “Just give me a couple of days.”

Potter agrees although he’s clearly not happy about it in the slightest. In compromise, he insists on spending the night. At first Draco is a little confused by the negotiation. Surely Potter knows he is far too exhausted to…

“I’m not going to try anything,” Potter explains, clearly prompted by Draco’s expression, “I just can’t leave you like this.”

It’s not exactly how Draco pictured Potter would first spend the night. Not that he had pictured it of course. But let’s just say if, hypothetically, he had, it certainly didn’t include Potter sleeping on a bundle of pillows on Draco’s bedroom floor, fully clothed. And Draco tucked up alone in his king bed, also fully clothed.

But if he’s being honest, it’s a relief to hear Potter’s quiet snores across the room. Draco can’t bear to be alone right now, not when he’s this scared. So so scared. He doesn’t even realise he’s crying until he feels the wetness puddle at his pillow. He’s not ready for this. Any of this.

New parts will be released daily until the story is finished. Please subscribe on ao3 or follow me at @queenofthyme to stay up to date. <3

[scarletwix]

I COULD NOT PICK JUST ONE CHARACTER TO SEND YOU FOR THE HEADCANON THING SO HERE HAVE MULTIPLE CHARACTERS: Jughead, Dilton, Pietro (Any of them because so many AUs), Digi-Jane, Neville Longbottom and any character from the Wayward Children series

DEAR GOD, DARLING

Dilton:

Realistic headcanon: He beats every chess AI he goes up against and has since he was 7 years old.

Headcanon I think is fucking hilarious: When actively challenged to a fight, he turns it into a dance-off

Soul crushing headcanon: ... I don’t need headcanons to project my insecurities on Dilton, the canon does this for me.

“Would never work with canon but canon is a trash fire/box of scraps/shitshow so I stand by it” headcanon: Dilton is everyone’s first crush. It doesn’t matter who you are, he’s nice to everyone on principle and he has pretty eyes, no one can resist him. (less “wouldn’t work with canon” and more, it’s totally random and idk why I feel this way about it but I do.)

Jughead:

Realistic headcanon: Could be a broadway actor in a heartbeat but broadway doesn’t buy burgers or help him play test video games for free. 

Headcanon I think is fucking hilarious: Jughead runs a dating advice panel for the school newspaper/radio show. His advice is always ridiculous but somehow always works.

Soul crushing headcanon: Even though he knows about aromanticism and he understands that he falls under that spectrum, he still occasionally tries to force crushes/feelings of romantic intent because his friends make it look so stupid and so easy, and his friends don’t mean to make him feel like it, but there’s always going to be a part of him that makes him feel like he’s broken. (... ha.)

“Would never work with canon but canon is a trash fire/box of scraps/shitshow so I stand by it” headcanon: Show!Jughead becomes the sole guardian of his sister and raises her in a loving environment and gets a lucrative book deal and they live happily ever after, fight me RAS.

Pietro:

Realistic headcanon: Runs a knock-off web series like DD&D, but they’re all mutant related businesses that help him recharge after long runs.

Headcanon I think is fucking hilarious: Drinking competitions with Mystique. He’s the only one who knows her location at any given time, and he may not have loyalty for many things, but he knows the value of getting drunk and shit talking everyone in the known mutant world.

Soul crushing headcanon: His speedster abilities are actually a manifestation of temporal manipulation (because Marvel doesn’t have the handy-dandy Speed Force handing out speedster mutations like they’re skittles, so this makes sense) and a side effect of all temporal manipulation mutations means that he will never die. He will eventually hit an age where he stops aging and just continues. This means he will outlive everyone he loves. There is also the canon “everybody low-key hates Pietro Maximoff, nobody wants him around, nobody trusts him” thing that kills my heart, but hey. You asked for headcanons not doctrines.

“Would never work with canon but canon is a trash fire/box of scraps/shitshow so I stand by it” headcanon: I want him to adopt Tempus. or vice versa. We all know that Eva has the Maximoff-level disregard for rules and shit, I want them to meet and talk about how weird time is and how never aging sucks major ass. I just reread Uncanny X-Men and went “oh shit I need this.” 

Digi-Jane (I’m going with the Digi-Jane from FGG, not your Jane):

Realistic headcanon: Genuinely enjoys Fucking Shit Up at the request of any of the girls, but especially Annie, because it’s very rare for her to ask, which means it’s always big news.

Headcanon I think is fucking hilarious: She makes Robot Jokes. All the fucking time. Even before the girls figure out she’s an AI, she makes all the jokes.

Soul crushing headcanon: ... She’s an AI who loves cats and was created as a way for the Real Jane to be everywhere at once, why would i make that anything but awesome?

“Would never work with canon but canon is a trash fire/box of scraps/shitshow so I stand by it” headcanon: she trains attack kittens. they are cuddly until you bring up eggplants. And then home invaders beware.

Neville: 

Realistic headcanon: Is the best teacher Hogwarts has seen, ever. This does not include McGonnagall because she’s headmistress now and is Above Everyone.

Headcanon I think is fucking hilarious: He writes love poems that are published in the Quibbler. There are three people in the world who understand them, because they’re full of Obscure Herbology References

Soul crushing headcanon: When they die, Neville makes sure that his parents have a statue in their honor, much like the Potters do in Godric’s Hollow. 

“Would never work with canon but canon is a trash fire/box of scraps/shitshow so I stand by it” headcanon: Once Harry realizes that being an Auror was a Bad Idea and comes to teach DADA permanently, he and Neville set up a haunted house every year on the hogwarts grounds. It’s a constant smash hit with plenty of escape routes for everyone who realizes they need an exit part-way through. Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes is a sponsor and Major Contributor every year.

And Kade because I love Kade:

Realistic headcanon: He takes over the school and is much kinder and less analytical when it comes to Orientation than Lundy was. 

Headcanon I think is fucking hilarious: He and Christopher have a running half-joke that when Christopher gets to go home, he’ll take Kade with him. It’s not funny but NEITHER IS ANYTHING ABOUT WAYWARD CHILDREN IT ALL MAKES ME SO SAD JUST LET THEM GO HOME

Soul crushing headcanon: He never gets to go home, but he lives just as long as his aunt did and has to spend all of his days pretending he isn’t still looking for his door. That, or, a few years into his tenure, he gets a child who came from his world and has to listen to their stories and has to watch them go home without him. 

Would never work with canon but “canon is a trash fire/box of scraps/shitshow so I stand by it” headcanon: HE GETS TO GO HOME AND BE THE GOBLIN KING AND HE LEADS A FUCKING REVOLUTION, SEANAN PLEASE

[st-jack]

I played the NES one and I will not have all those fucking hours of dodging the goddamn wizards only to get tuRNED INTO A FUCKING EGGPLANT AGAIN AND HAVING TO BACKTRACK ALL THE WAY TO THE STUPID FUCKING FOUNTAIN erased just because you've arbitrarily decided I have a shit-tier fetish (different from my actual shit-tier fetish)

I have not met another living being that has actually played Kid Icarus. I think its existence is the result of a Mandela effect of people that want a “Mommy GF” 

[evajellion]

Part 9, the finale and review overall

Richie doesn’t end it off with a bang, but with a lazy whimper, with a nonsensical partnership and rivalry that I can’t think to improve.

So… Pit and Olimar, of all things.

Pit is bowing down to Palutena as she looks through the Goddess Book.

Ah, the hero, Pit, having somehow defeated Hades and saved the world from peril, is once again called by the Goddess of Light, Palutena.

Mmmm, plagiarizing Sir Dan’s intro yet again, huh Richie?

I’m surprised he at least knows enough about (modern) Kid Icarus to mention Hades at least.

Both of them are in shock to see some pages have been missing.

But what's this? The pages from the Goddess Book has gone missing. Someone must have took them. Without it pages which guided the world, it would be in peril.

Oh, we’re ripping off Sly’s Arcade Mode too?

I dunno shit about Kid Icarus beyond a few key characters and the Eggplant Wizard being in Captain N, but a quick search on the wiki told me there’s no such thing as a “Goddess Book”. There’s a “Book of Divine Prophecy”, but why would the pages of that be taken?

And what's more. Below, 2 dimensions have clashed, all because of a false god which controlled the Hands. Pit decided to go and find the pages before it is too late.

Really, this should have been the big concern, not the shit plagiarizing Sly Cooper’s story. Pit and Palutena being concerned by a deity controlling Master and Crazy Hand was all they needed to set off for adventure!

As Pit about to leave, the door opened and to Pit's and Palutena's surprise, Olimar came in carrying his diary. Following him are the Pikmins.

Suddenly, a surprise guest appeared. Captain Olimar. His pages has been missing too which has notes on his research on Pikmins.

Pit and Olimar agreed to work together and sets off to recover their pages.

To recover the stolen pages and save both the world and Angel Land, Pit joins forces with Olimar. Their adventure is just beginning.

What fucking reason is there to steal pages from Olimar’s diary?

Pretty sure the plural for Pikmin, is also just Pikmin.

"Can you see them yet?" Olimar asked as Pit looked through his telescope on top of the Rival Arena.

"Aha. There they are" Pit said spotting the pages in Nathan Drake's hands, accompanied by Sly Cooper.

Does… Pit even have a telescope? 

I figured Olimar would be the one have some kinda fancy, hi-tech equipment to see things from a distance. But I’m saying this as someone who doesn’t know much about Pikmin either, other than the gameplay and some of the cool enemies.

Of course though, this is only happening because Richie is plagiarizing Sly’s rival scene.

"You decode them yet?" Sly asked getting impatient.

"Man, I'm sure we're getting closer" Drake said looking at the pages. "All we had to do is figure out the last bit."

At that point, Pit and Olimar stood before them making them stop.

"Careful, careful." Pit said pointing his blade at them. "Despicable thieves like you and your pet would know how treasured those pages are."

Really? Pit saying Sly’s line?

Pit is young, and panics over certain situations. I think he would be more like “Hey! W-what are you doing with those!?”, not acting chill on how they should “be careful”.

OOC Counter: 39

Rest of it is copypasted, with the only difference being an out of character Olimar, who I’m gonna slap the counter on for how he’s talking.

OOC Counter: 40

After beating Sly and Drake, Pit and Olimar recovered the pages, but before they can leave...

"Going somewhere, little men?" Polygon Man said with his controlled Hands "You're not going anyway!"

"Master Hand and Crazy Hand?" Olimar gasped "What the...?"

"They've being controlled by that giant head. We must stop them" Pit said as they prepare to fight.

Pit, you should have told Olimar about this beforehand, idiot. That’s a far bigger concern than some pages being stolen.

Also lol, the typos here. 

Pit and Olimar returned to Palutena safe and sound.

Pit and Olimar have successfully vanquished all their foes and recovered the stolen pages, and even stopped the ones controlling the chaos.

As Pit and Palutena put the pages back, they noticed something very unusual.

But as Pit put the pages back, they noticed some sort of code that could releashed demons from the underworld, and Hades and Medusa would eventually return. In order to prevent this, Pit and Palutena decide to find someone to undo this code.

Olimar turned to the doorway as Pit and Palutena waved.

Olimar boarded his ship and returned to Planet Hotate, his diary pages recovered. But if an new evil would rise, Olimar would rejoin Pit...

Both Pit and Olimar glowed blue.

...and stop them once again.

I guess this ending could have been worse. Palutena says nothing about what happened though? No cameo from Viridi either?

Then again, I’m not exactly fond of them to begin with, so I doubt I’d care if Richie ruined their character.

--

How much lazier is the scenario for Nathan and Sly?

One day in Paris, Sly is going through some pages with Bentley and Carmelita Fox.

Carmelita? And not Murray? Seriously, you’re leaving the big lug out?

Carmelita is only “forced” to help Sly a handful of times, otherwise, she’s trying to arrest him. Where does this take place in the Sly games anyway? Before, or after Thieves in Time? Because you already formed a big hole in any case.

"So, have any idea on deciphering this?" Bentley asked as Sly has got the pages from Goddess Book and Olimar's diary. Trouble is, the text is hard to read.

Bentley, you’re the smart one. He’s the fucking brains of the team. Did you switch out their dialogue by accident, Richie?

OOC Counter: 41

"Hmmm... this is bizarre." Sly said "But I cannot make out the writing."

"Yoink!"

Nathan Drake appears and snatched the pages from Sly's hands.

"What the...? You again?" Sly was shocked.

"Ha. Call yourself a master thief if you cannot understand the writing" Nathan said "I already have half of the pages already, and I'm getting closer."

"You think it would lead to untold mysteries, mr treasure hunter?" Carmelita said, surprised by Nathan's wit.

"Hmm... I guess it must be over there. I gonna need Racoon Boy's help here cause I heard other people are after this treasure" Nathan said, pointing to a distance.

"Really? Alright then. Lead on. But I am making my own shots of action, Mr. Two-bit treasure hunter" Sly said as he and Nathan set off.

"Whatever you say, roadkill" Nathan said.

It’s… not a bad way to start the team-up, but really? Bentley isn’t going to say a word about it?

I think it should be the other way around, Sly seems more like the type to approach Nathan Drake suddenly, brag, and then ask to work together. Yeah, Nathan stole pages from the Thievius Raccoonus, but Sly probably wouldn’t hold too much of a grudge. It’s not like the Panda King, who had a hand in killing his dad…

Rival scene is copypasted AGAIN, so here’s another OOC Counter for Pit stealing Sly’s lines, while Olimar is just… there.

OOC Counter: 42

With Pit and Olimar defeated, Sly and Nathan began to finish the pages until...

There was a laugher and they spun around to see Polygon Man appear with the hands. "Power is an illusion. Absolute power is a seamless illusion."

"Oh brother, not you again" Sly groaned.

Sly is about as fed up with the dialogue exchanges as much as I am.

Sly and Nathan founds Nate's plane where Bentley, Carmelita and Sully awaits them.

Richie seriously, what do you have against THE MURRAY?

Where’s my boy Dimitri Lousteau, for that matter? He’s like, the best character. 

Who am I kidding? It’s good to have him spared from this trainwreck.

Blahblah, copypasted scenes--

"Is something wrong, Drake?" Sly asked as the screen turned back.

Nathan only said "We've punched a chicken and a giant turtle."

… That… line doesn’t work when…

Uuuugh, I get he was trying to say “Nathan punched Bowser on their adventure”, but the line doesn’t fucking work when tied in with copypasted shit, and…

You know what? Because of how horribly delivered that was, I’m adding one more, the last time this counter had to be used.

OOC Counter: 43

A/N: Ok so next is Kat/Ememet VS Lucario/Meta Knight scenario and then the Fire Emblem vs Fat Princess and Sir Daniel Fortesque, stayed tuned.

Well, guess what? Richie never follows up on this.

My main man Dan remains untouched by Richie’s fan-fic to this day.

Also lol, how would those rivalries even work? Lucario sensing the aura that Kat and Emmett have? Would Lucario be a chick with tits like he is in the comics?

Actually, a badass, non-sexualized girl Lucario teaming up with Borb would be a much cuter pairing than the Bimbocario x Pikachu one.

Funny thing, even the reviews were confused by the chicken comment. And another reviewer said this, which made me laugh:

Is it me, or is the grammar becoming poorer and poorer as this goes on?

Same guy who pointed out how Richie plagiarized from Street Fighter x Tekken. Good on you, reviewer who I will keep anonymous.

Alright, so, enough of that… what could have been changed about this chapter?

Nothing.

You would have to delete this whole chapter, set up a rivalry that makes sense, and start from scratch in order to fix this big of a mess.

You kinda have a limited cast to work with in PSASBR, unless you’re adding new challengers, otherwise you’re not going to be able to have all the sensible rivalries against Smash Bros. characters, and eventually run out of material.

Of course, it could have simply been Richie lost interest because it didn’t have Crash maybe.

Yeah, I know. It’s not just a thing Richie does, I’m aware. A lot of writers on FF.net seem to drop off their stories and leave them hanging, and never say anything about them like “I can’t write this anymore because of something going on”, or just deleting them. It’s very annoying when they do it, and it encouraged me to give all of my stories an ending, even if they weren’t too great.

But enough about that, let’s get to…

--

Final Thoughts

This fan-fic has potential to do something good. The rivalries between Pikachu & Kirby vs. Sackboy & Toro, Ganondorf & Bowser vs. Zeus & Heihachi are the best ones that come to mind. Others however, make zero sense.

Granted, this was the earliest SSB x PSASBR fan-fic (and also one of the first to suddenly die), besides one other, which is basically just four one-shots.

Is this story any good? No, besides the fact it’s not finished, there are unfinished stories that do the rivalries much more nicely, and don’t insult the the existing characters, or the lore for each game represented.

The Smash Bros. and Playstation All-Stars were out of character, or ruining a certain continuity, 43 times altogether. Which is a lot, for something with only nine actual chapters.

These things could have been fixed by just looking further into each series. Even if you had never played them, it doesn’t kill to pull up a video, or a wiki, or ask someone who understand a particular franchise.

The ones that stand out the most, where I had to revise everything, were parts 4, 6, and 8. Meanwhile for part 9 (this one), it should have been purged completely.

Plotting everything out, especially the rivalries, will help you in the long run. Studying each character also helps a ton.

Another thing I obviously have to criticize, is Polygon Man.

I like Polgyon Man. I don’t think he’s a “bad Master Hand rip-off” like most Smash fans do. He’s his own character. He’s possibly driven by envy, being that the All-Stars are recognized amongst Playstation fans, but he was left behind-- rejected.

Him using Master and Crazy Hand? Perhaps that was fueled by jealousy over them being loved, and appreciated by the Smash Bros. 

His interactions with the Smash Bros. also could have been interesting. He could have recognized Snake, wondered why Sonic (a SEGA character) is suddenly with Nintendo mascots, or Lucas (and some other characters maybe) could have tried to turn Polygon Man around-- stopping him from being fueled by his god complex.

There was a lot of potential to be had, and some authors do that with Polygon Man in these crossovers. Richie doesn’t do anything, and makes him the generic baddie.

Oh, and the plagiarism, yes. The one thing that tells me Richie can’t think of a solid plot without having to resort to ripping something else off…

Nearly all of this is ripped from Playstation All-Stars, with the very small except of Street Fighter x Tekken not being safe either. Only a handful of times were the intros, rival scenes, and endings written to be rather creative.

That makes things very boring to read. No one wants to read a Playstation All-Star story, if it’s nothing new. The rival scenes in PSASBR, were great! And I do love them, it’s one of the things that drew me to the game, were the unique rival scenes, some of which were pretty silly. (Sir Dan and Radec instantly come to mind, along with Big Daddy and Sackboy)

You want to do that again, but in a new, creative twist involving the Smashers? That’s good, I’ve seen people try it before… but this wasn’t it, because a whole lot of them were fucking copied.

I’m not a perfect writing myself. I’m still learning, and when I look back at my older stuff, I kinda cringe-- but I leave it up, because I know people enjoyed it, and I still considering it an accomplishment. Yet, I’m trying to learn how to grow, how to do different things, and how to finish them.

Richie doesn’t want to change. He’s in his later 20′s, and hasn’t budged from his usual, predictable style. This is going to bite him when people get bored, have grown up from these sorts of things, and want to move on, away from his content. They’ll put on a new pair of glasses, and see things in a new light, so to speak.

Tl;dr

Overall Rating: 3/10

Pros:

+ Some of the rivalries aren’t too awful

+ The idea of tag-teams for both parties is different, and reminds me of Street Fighter x Tekken.

+ Some of the team-ups actually work-- in concept.

Cons:

- Nearly everyone is out of character. (Except perhaps Toro, Heihachi, PaRappa, and Sonic)

- A lot of things were copypasted, word for word.

- The two big Richie clichés. The damsel-in-distress fetish for one. Seriously Richie, stop doing this. This along with his “villain cliché” for Bowser and Ganondorf.

- Polygon Man doing nothing almost in his scenes, rather than something interesting.

- Potential rivalries and team-ups are uninteresting, and feel lifeless.

- The typos. 

- It’s not finished. People like an ending, and one that would have wrapped up all the scenarios would have helped.

Well, that’s it for this… I wonder, is there anything else I could tear apart that Richie wrote? It’s mostly boring, thankfully (for him) no Star Fox trash for me to rip into, considering how badly he would depict the characters.

Maybe I’ll poke around, if not, then I hope you enjoyed this series of riffs.

[dungeons-and-dwegons]

Of Ripe & Ruin Part II (Til Death Do Us Part)

Session 12 Recap:

The party successfully defeated the Teddy Scares and the Scare Bear and now were able to share some sweet loot. Leonne got the Dimension Shackles, Lilith got the Hat of Disguise, Fein obtained the Lantern of Revealing, Natlia obtained the Pearl of Power, Nim received the Trident of Fish Command, and Hachi received the Crown of the Feline. Leaving Prett with the Robe of Useful items but not before taking tons of shit from it. (example: windows, doors, dogs, rowboats, gems, gold, etc) 15 year old Ulan did not take any magic item, because he already has Caliburn. They were also able to locate the scrolls. They rested and left the ruins and it was morning. Albie was still siting near the stairs. They located Prett’s tent and shared their discoveries. Leonne decided to test out the mystery spell and a 100 eggplants appeared. They discussed the strange plants. Leonne was then formally accepted into the Book Club and after some book switching he got the Book of Chance. After that they discussed with Prett their concerns with the funeral being a target of another attack.

Interested in finding out how Xanth was killed they went to investigate the body. Inside a tent there the wizard lay decapitated and looking as if he had aged hundreds of years. They asked Danric about Xanth’s death and who killed him, but being unable to communicate they could only ask Yes or No questions. They learned that Draco killed Xanth, she had an army, and after a long time they discovered that Xanth smashed Danric’s amulet to protect his soul from being taken. Tyrus was upset by this news. Next the party worked on the most elaborate plan they have ever worked on. What to do about the funeral. After much debate they decided it was best to hold the funeral as normal but with some precautions. The entire party would set themselves up in the crowd to keep an eye out for any suspicious individuals. They would also use the House of Xanth spell to fix up and reorganize the ruined tower to aid the next part of the plan. Billy Goat, Leonne, and Tyrus would cast Dispel Evil on the entrance of the castle to prevent any villainous beings from entering. Ulan and Fein guarded the door. Leonne was up in a balcony keeping an eye out and sending messages to the party. Hachi, Natlia, and Lilith would be in the crowd. Nim in the trees. Mettaton patrolling behind the castle. The plan was set and ready to go in motion.

Leonne went over to Tyrus and attempted to grill him for answers about Draco and his connection to her. He learned that Tyrus would do anything for the original party, he knew Draco personally, Leonne could be just as bad as Draco, but Tyrus was not entirely willing to share this information. He did not enjoy Leonne pestering him and asked him to leave. The conversation lasted a good amount of time and was very heated.

It was the funeral. A large crowd of Monsters and Humans were gathered waiting for Prett to give a speech. Leonne scoped out a Frog person and wanted someone to investigate. Hachi obliged. Hachi met the strange creature known as Croaker. The young frog being? knew Xanth and wanted to learn magic from him but was turned down for being too nefarious.  Natlia also found the Great Magicin Destiny and was enamored. They shared pleasantries and Natlia bought a couple health potions. Hachi also popped up and wanted to talk with Destiny. The Dragonborn found the two of them interesting and offered to let them join her Girl Gang to which they declined. Natlia found Knil in the crowd and they talked for a moment. Knil was awfully surprised that Natlia was alive and still so young but happy nonetheless. Prett began his speech and everyone gave a good listen. It was heartfelt I think, and Prett was too choked up to finish it. Someone else took the stand after him. Soon the party noticed some Roaches like the ones from the fighting ring under El Dotadota. Mettaton discovered a crystal located near the base of the castle, but wasn’t sure what it was beyond ice magic. The party took action.

Natlia used her Prestidigitation to send a message to the crowd to enter inside the castle for refreshments. Everyone assumed battle positions and soon noticed the Roachbeetles staying behind and begin their attack, grabbing attendees of the party and killing them. (Battlers: Fein, Hachi, Lilith, Natlia, Nim, Leonne, Ulan, Simone, Bonka, Tyrus VS Roachbeetles and Draco Soldiers)

(I will be missing tons of details from the fight and will only do the highlights to keep this simple, but the battle was way longer/more complicated/badass)

Natlia, Hachi, Lilith, Simone and Bonka were the first to the field of battle. Roachbeetles began swarming and pairing up. The two sides exchanged some blows before Nim, Ulan and Fein were able to enter the field. Followed by Leonne and Tyrus. Battle was fairly even but the party seemed to be on the winning side. Less than half of the Roachbeetles were taken out and all of Draco’s misc soldiers as well. There were a couple of casualties from funeral goers along the way. Highlights: Hachi got super damaged by the Roachbeetles but was healed before running back into the battle. Ulan missed a bunch. Lilith created an area of smoke obscuring the battlefield in a dangerous spot. Nim ripped a Roach in half. Suddenly an explosion occurred and various locations around the area were assaulted by ice crystals, including the castle. A Dimension Door appeared, more Roachbeetles and a Wolf/Satyr? appeared with bloodlust alongside a haughty witch (Faeonetta). Faeonetta casted a Fireball spell and knocked out Leonne, Hachi, and Ulan but Fein was able to avoid most of the blast using his shield to help protect Ulan. The tide of battle had changed entirely.

Faeonetta laughed and offered the party a chance to surrender. If they surrendered there would be 19 survivors out of hundreds of funeral attendees. Natlia wanted to keep her friends safe and was willing to accept the offer. But it was revealed that they wouldn’t get to choose who would saved. It would be entirely random. The party knew that surrender wasn’t an option and continued to fight back. Leonne saved his skin by ordering his healing golem to pour the teleporting alcohol into his mouth, thus removing himself from combat and into the underwater prison, with the help from the Wish Fish he was saved and had to run back to the battlefield. Lilith (out of arrows) decided that it was time to do something crazy and grabbed out her chicken and did what Zin advised her not to do. Expose it to water. Then putting the chicken on a stick and firing it at Faeonetta using her Book of Dexterity to guide her shot and landed a blow on the witch, “Cluck you.” The chicken had given her chicken pox and Faeonetta fell down screaming in pain, incapable of fighting. The party continued to fight the remaining Roachbeetles and were soon confronted by the Wolf man.

Wolf man and Tyrus knew one another and shared some aggressive dialogue. Wolf man attacked the Tree man with Blight knocking Tyrus out (nearly killing him) As the party continued to fight back, Destiny, Arogos, and Mettaton appeared to offer their aid. Destiny gave potions of healing to various party members bringing essentially everyone to full health. Arogos landed a hit on Wolf man and Mettaton attacked the Wolf with Blight (for irony’s sake). Once Tyrus was up and ready to go he grabbed the beast and shot branches down his throat to finish him off, before killing him asking, “Do you surrender?” “Fuck no.” And Wolf man got super fucked. Nim and Lilith were still combating with some Roachbeetles on the side, Nim taking out as many as she could. But Lilith’s wolf became the Roaches next target and was killed in combat. Everyone concentrated their efforts keeping Faeonetta downed, Bonka made a castle of chocolate to hold her in. The party was nearly victorious but then another wave of soldiers came. Along with their leader, Draco.

Draco called out to the defenders of the castle, saying they were evil and human sympathizers, a truly disgusting display. And she was disappointed that her generals had failed her. Fein attempted to attack Draco, but was instantly knocked out by one of her spells. Fein revived himself with Second Wind and was knocked down again. But he came back up again with Demon’s Endurance (?) and his ruby heart broke. Other members of the party were also taken down in one hit who tried to talk back. Destiny having met Draco before was done with her and throw a potion that exploded, killing all of Draco’s soldiers and causing Draco to disappear. Combat was over, the battle was won. Leonne was back with the help of Fast Boy and the party fought over whether or not to kill Faeonetta. Natlia wanted to Shocking Grasp the witch to death, Leonne casted Crown of Madness of Natlia to get her away to keep Faeonetta to question her. Fein attempted to kill the witch himself, Hachi jumped in the way to stop him. Fein pushed her out of the way and killed her. Ulan knocked Leonne out with the butt of the sword. A whole argument ensued and things got crazy and wild. Ulan demanded Leonne give him the Book of Chance and he did. Leonne handcuffed himself to Faeonetta and left. Shit got super real.